The Scotch King (Scotch 1)

I wanted to pound into her hard and give it to her as rough as possible. But now that we moved together, I enjoyed the slowness, the sensual movement of our bodies. I loved feeling every inch of her, moving slow enough to savor every second. For the first time, I didn’t want to fuck hard.

I just wanted to do this.

The quiet sounds she made got louder as we moved together. Her moans turned to pants. And those pants became quiet screams. Her tits shook every time I thrust into her, moving with my momentum.

“You’re fucking beautiful, Lovely.” I moved my hand to her throat and rested my fingers over the vulnerable skin. I felt her pulse hammering under the skin, thudding deeply. Her blood pounded in her veins, moving to her heart and then back again. I loved having her in my iron grip.

I bent down and kissed her neck, deepening the angle of my thrusts. My cock reached a more intimate level, hitting her in the right spot that drove all women crazy. My pelvis rubbed against her clit, stimulating it at the same time. My fingers moved to the back of her neck and gripped her tightly. “Tell me to come inside you.”

Her mouth moved against mine when I kissed her. “Come inside me…”

I quickened my thrusts, pounding her into the mattress. My cock moved far inside every time I rocked into her, and I prepared for her release. I could read her breaths and her moans. I’d fucked enough women to know when they were about to come. I edged myself as I waited, knowing she was just seconds from falling over the edge too. “Come for me.”

She bit her bottom lip in the sexiest way before she tightened around me. “Oh god…” Her hands moved up my chest and neck until she cupped my face. She pulled my mouth close to hers and breathed with me, her moans notched up to nearly screams. “Crewe…”

I didn’t even need to tell her to say that. “Here it comes, Lovely.” I’d fantasized about this very moment countless times. I wanted to fill her with so much come that she couldn’t walk anywhere without it dripping all over the floor. I wanted her to feel full of me for the rest of the day.

She was still in the midst of her climax, and she dug her nails into my skin as she held on. “Crewe…”

My cock thickened just before release. I shoved myself far inside her, wanting to get every single drop as deep as possible. When the wave of pleasure rolled over my body, I nearly forgot how to breathe. I moaned and crushed my mouth against hers, feeling the heat wash over me. I came hard and long, relishing every minute of the exquisite pleasure. It felt so wonderful, like I owned the world and everyone in it.

Even when I was finished, I kept my cock inside her. I never wanted to leave the warmth of this woman. She was better than any lover I’d ever had, and that was saying something because I had experience with some of the most beautiful and confident women in the world. But there was something about London that satisfied my darkest urges.

I slowly pulled out of her and watched my come seep from her soaked pussy. I admired my handiwork, my claim. “On your hands and knees.”

Still breathless and sweaty, she stared at me in surprise.

“You think I’m finished?”

Ariel and I had dinner together at my favorite restaurant in Scotland, The Kitchin. French techniques on Scottish delicacies, it was one of my favorite places in Edinburgh. Ariel didn’t eat much of anything, so my choice made no difference to her. Her commitment to being thin baffled me because she was pretty enough to look however she wanted. Personally, I liked curves on a woman. London had the perfect hips, the nice curve in her waist, and gorgeous tits.

I ordered the scallops, and Ariel ordered the halibut. It was difficult not to order seafood when we were so close to the North Sea, the place where fishermen caught fresh fish just that morning.

She and I discussed work, like usual. We didn’t touch on topics about our personal lives very often. We had too many other things to discuss on a daily basis. Running two enormous companies, one criminal and one private, sucked the time from both of us.

We drank our wine and ate our entrees, discussing the new shipments of Scotch we sent out to America. They had their own form of scotch, known as bourbon, but most restaurants preferred to keep both selections on hand.

“Our little ploy with Joseph seemed to work.” She swirled her wine before she took a sip.

It more than worked. “Yes. She’s been very responsive.”

“So I hear.” Ariel gave me a knowing look, the corner of her mouth raised in a smile. Despite her dislike of London, she didn’t say anything harsh about her in my presence. “So, she’s finally under control?”