Page 23 of Scary Hot

He props himself up on his elbows, glancing between my pussy then my eyes. “And why are you so sensitive, my little one?”

I shudder as he calls me his, even as my body grows hotter with embarrassment at being caught. “I… I used my… my showerhead while I was getting ready for the party.”

He groans once again, this time against my now-throbbing core. “Thinking of what, kitten?”

My hips circle, enjoying the scratch of his beard between my thighs. “Not of what, Z. Of who. And it was you. Always. Fucking. You,” I tell him, and that’s all it takes. He opens his mouth and places it over my pussy, his hot breath soothing me for just a moment before he sucks my puffy lower lips, making my eyes roll back in my head as I scream his name.

He pulls back a moment to ask, “Does this mean you finally want to give this thing between us a chance? Do you want to give us a try?”

The hope in his eyes is my undoing. “Yes, Z. Dear God, yes. I don’t want to fight it anymore. I just want you,” I reply, and seeing that hope turn into joyous relief, I can’t help but smile down at him.

He sets back to it, working my body like he wrote its manual. His light laps at my clit and the gentle nibbles around my entrance drive me mad, to the point my eyes no longer see and my ears are ringing.




That’s not my ears ringing.

That’s my freaking phone!

I sit up abruptly, but he doesn’t stop his ministrations. I’m panting as I reach for my cell, where it’s plugged in on my nightstand. July’s name flashes across the screen, and I know she’s wondering why we aren’t at the party yet.

“Hello?” I answer breathlessly, just as Z does this magical thing with his front teeth, and I moan into the phone.

The connection goes dead, but I couldn’t care less as he nibbles along my folds.

“Did you really just answer your phone in the middle of this, kitten?” he growls against me.

“I’m sorry. It’s a compulsi— ohhhhh,” I moan again, tossing my phone back on the nightstand as I grasp the back of his shaved head. “Please, Z. I need you.”

He grants me mercy, standing up from the bed long enough to peel off his clothes in record time before grasping my ankles and flipping me over in one swift move. He takes hold of my hips and pulls me up on my hands and knees, placing a kiss where the brush must’ve left a pink mark on my right cheek. My skin prickles as he bites me there, my elbows almost buckling as he comes up on his knees behind me. Cock in hand, he runs it up and down my dripping slit, and when he’s fully planted inside me, his big, rough hand slaps my left ass cheek, the sensation overwhelming my every sense as I buck against him.

“Oh, God! Yes, Z. More,” I pant, lowering myself to my elbows and lifting my ass higher to his needed assault.

That’s all he seems to want to hear, as he pounds into me and I’m suddenly lost in the glorious feeling of his cock filling me over and over while he slaps my ass, never in a pattern, so I can’t anticipate his next move.

Soon, I’m screaming into my pillow, crying out with my orgasm as I try to breathe between squeals of pleasure. And with one… two… three more thrusts, and one last shaky squeeze of my hips as he holds me to him like a vise, I feel him spill inside me, his hot cum soothing the walls of my battered pussy.

He collapses to the side, taking me with him as he wraps me up in his giant arms. And the last thing I remember is giggling when he breathes into my hair, “Hell of a party.”



Time passes by in the blink of an eye. It’s been weeks, maybe a month, since the night Kayan said she would give us a try, and it’s been fucking perfect—well, almost. When her parents called one night, she put them on speakerphone—expecting me to join the conversation after what should’ve been a happy introduction—and told them about the man she was dating when her mother asked if she had met anyone since the last time they talked. From what I gathered, the answer to that question was usually a resounding no.

But instead of being happy she’d finally replied yes, they grilled her, trying to pull every detail about me out of her that they possibly could, so I stayed silent. Everything my kitten said in her proud and impressed voice that puffed up my chest seemed to dig me deeper and deeper into a hole of not good enough.

Tags: K.D. Robichaux Books Suspense Books