Lady Ruthless - Scarlett Scott Page 0,61

her. Her lips clung to his.

He had not expected to enjoy himself this much. To be so ensnared, so enamored. It was as if she had cast a sensual spell upon him. But Sin was beyond the point of caring. He would worry about his powerful hunger for his new wife later.

He released himself and ran his fingers over her silken flesh, parting her. When he found her entrance, he swirled his fingers over her, testing her readiness. She jerked against his hand, her hips lifting off the mattress, seeking. She was so wet.

He could not wait.

He guided himself to her cunny and slid into her with a tentative thrust. She tensed and cried out into his kiss. Sin paused, white-hot desire searing him. Being inside her felt so bloody good. Her slick sheath constricted on him, bathing his cock in blissful heat.

Her channel was excruciatingly tight. She was a virgin after all, in spite of all the rumors from her time in Paris and her dead betrothed. The knowledge should not have mattered, and yet, he could not stay the rush of primitive lust it sent arrowing through him. Remaining still was killing him. But he held tight to his control, simply breathing, allowing her body to adjust.

He broke the kiss and lowered his head to her nipple, sucking on it, then blowing on the stiff peak. “How does it feel?” he asked against the soft curve of her breast.

“Strange,” she whispered. “Is it over, then?”

Hell.

He did not know whether to laugh, cry, or slide his cock all the rest of the way inside her. He nipped, reaching between them to where their bodies were joined to tease her pearl once more.

“Does it feel as if it is over, princess?” he returned when she moved her hips in response to his caress.

She dragged him deeper inside her, her cunny clenching on him. And he was lost. He moved again, another shallow thrust. Then another and another.

Callie was panting, moving with him, her nails scoring his back again. “Oh, Sin.”

His name in a husky moan from her lips was the most erotic sound he had ever heard. The last of his restraint fell away. He swiveled his hips and seated himself all the way. She trembled beneath him, her cunny pulsing, making him wild.

He took her mouth again, kissing her hard. And then he began to thrust in earnest. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her breasts flattening against his chest. He was a large man, and she was small and delicate and feminine. He felt like a rutting beast pinning her to the bed, but he was losing the battle. Slow and gentle was no longer possible.

Desire pounded in his loins. She was his. Every stroke of his cock inside her said so. Every scrape of her nails down his back said so. Even the connection of their bodies, the way they fit together, felt so damned right. So damned good.

He increased the pressure on the bud of her sex, sliding in and out of her, kissing her with all the raw hunger burning through him. His tongue sank into her mouth, and she sucked on it. She came undone on a ragged cry that he swallowed without breaking their kiss. She constricted all around him, milking him, bringing him to the brink.

Sin bit her lip and hooked her leg over his hip, readjusting so he could penetrate her even deeper. Finally ending the kiss, he braced himself on his forearms over her, watching her as he fucked her. She was gorgeous, her breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts, her eyes closed.

“Look at me Callie,” he ordered her. “Eyes open.”

He reached for her hair—those glorious, dark strands spread over his pillow, and grasped a handful, gently forcing her head back to expose her throat. He wanted her to know who she had married. To look into the eyes of the man who was inside her.

God, she was beautiful. Her swollen lips were parted, her eyes dark. In that moment, he thought he could stay inside her forever.

But nothing lasted forever.

And neither did he.

His ballocks tightened. He buried his face in her neck and spilled inside her, filling her with his seed. Marking her as his.

As he collapsed against his new wife, he could not shake the notion that she had just marked him as hers every bit as much.

Chapter Fourteen

Have I convinced you of my depravity yet, dear, gentle reader? If not, do read on. There

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