Menace (Scarlet Scars #1)(56)

“Tell me a story,” he says.

“What?”

“A story,” he says again. “Doesn’t even have to be your story. Hell, tell me your favorite fairy tale.”

“I, uh...”

I don’t know what to say. His arms wrap around me, his hands going straight to my breasts, yanking my black tank top down and shoving my plain white bra up, palming bare skin. His teeth graze the side of my neck as he kisses his way down to my shoulder blade.

“Go on,” he says. “I’m waiting.”

“There was a princess named Nella,” I say quietly. “She had a love affair with a prince, but they kept it a secret.”

“Why?”

Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Why is he asking me this, why am I telling him a story, when his hands are all over me, touching, caressing, his fingers tweaking my nipples, sending shockwaves down my spine?

“Because Nella had two older sisters who were jealous of her and would ruin it if they found out.”

His right hand drifts, running the length of my torso before slipping beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, no hesitation. He rubs me through the fabric of my plain white cotton underwear, fingertips roughly stroking my clit. Holy f*ck. This man and those hands... he doesn’t play fair. At all. He presses buttons he’s got no business pressing.

“So what happened?” he asks, pushing against me, pressing into me. He’s hard, so damn hard... I can feel his cock against the small of my back. He practically manhandles me, shoving me toward the oversized bed, hand still down my pants, not missing a beat.

His fingers move the cotton aside, and I gasp when he touches me without the fabric barrier. It takes me a moment to find my voice again, to come up with words, as he forces my legs apart further.

“They made an underground glass tunnel leading from the prince’s castle straight to the princess’s bedroom so they, uh...”

I lose my words again when he drags me onto the bed, laying me down in the center of it. My heart races, thumping furiously as he hovers over me, cocking an eyebrow, staring down. “So they could f*ck?”

“Basically.”

My voice sounds smaller than I want it to. I sound meek. Ugh. That’s not me. He’s still staring at me, but I think he hears my timid tone, too, because his expression shifts. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

“Nope.”

I answer way too fast, way too loud.

He smirks. He knows I’m lying.

“Tsk, tsk,” he says, his voice low, rough. “What did I say I did to people who lied to me?”

“You kill them,” I whisper.

“You’re goddamn right,” he says, gaze moving from my face, down to my chest before trailing even lower. “And what I’m about to do to you, Scarlet? If it doesn’t kill you...”

He trails off with a laugh.

I’m not sure if I like the sound of that.

My body, though, is most definitely a fan, every syllable he speaks bringing it more to life, like being roused from a deep, dark sleeping curse. That which does not kill me isn’t trying hard enough. He said that the first night we met.

Lorenzo strips me, tugging my pants down, taking the underwear with it, yanking the shoes from my feet and tossing them to the floor, the clothes following.

“So they built some magical tunnel to sneak around and f*ck,” he says, kissing down my stomach, his tongue swirling around my belly button, dipping inside of it. I squirm, shivering at the sensation, and unconsciously reach for him, but he grabs my wrists, stopping me, his gaze returning to my face, his expression dead serious. “I’m about to f*ck you with my mouth like you’ve never been f*cked before, and you’re going to keep telling me that story. You got me?”

“I, uh…” Wow. “Okay.”

“You stop, I stop,” he says, his gaze flickering down, right between my legs. “And I’m not going to want to stop, so you better not make me.”

I’m not sure how this is going to work, my nerves through the roof. He’s right—it might kill me. Because yeah, I’ve slept around… I’ve been passed around, like a piece of meat… but men that go down for the fun of it are unicorns.

At least, among men in the business of sleeping with women like me.

Gripping my wrists, he pins them flat against the bed as he settles between my thighs. I look down at him, watching in the darkness, chest aching, heart racing, and adrenaline rushing through my veins, fueled by anticipation. He’s just a breath away. He’s right there. His eyes flicker up, a warning in them.

Oh, shit, right, I’m supposed to be talking.

“They made this glass tunnel so they could sneak off together,” I repeat, stalling again, gasping, the moment his mouth is on me. He starts slow, running light circles around my clit with his tongue, but it’s enough to make me arch my back and squirm.

Wait, ugh, how does this story go?

“Every night, the prince would go see her, just run there, buck f*cking naked, slip into her room and they’d, uh… f*ck.” I throw my head back, the curse damn near catching in my throat, when his lips encircle my clit and he sucks on it, sending pleasure through me. “Fuck, every night... he runs over there. But the sisters, they find out, and they decide, you know, they can’t have that. They can’t let them... f*ck.”