Beneath These Scars

Come on, gorgeous. Throw yourself at me like the rest of them. I’ll fucking catch you.

Flushing deeper when she realized what she’d done, Yve slapped her arm back down to cover any other accidental peeks, and sank further beneath the surface.

Some of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen had performed intricately planned stripteases, and that little flash of nipple from Yve Santos was having more of an effect on my cock. Apparently my dick had declared its preference for honey-tanned skin, dark brown waves, and eyes the color of amber.

I wasn’t going to argue with it, because I wanted her. So I would have her. That was how life worked when you were Lucas Titan.

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome in my pool,” I drawled.

“Then how about you hand me a towel?” she shot back.

“I think you’re capable of getting it yourself, woman.”

Her eyes widened in shock. Was she expecting a gentleman? I wasn’t in the mood. No, I wanted to see Yve dripping wet and naked. I wondered if she’d turn this into a battle of wills. The thought turned me on even more.

What was it about this woman?

She straightened her shoulders even as she hugged herself again. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“I’m aware. It’s also my house, my pool, and my rules.”

Mulish. That was the only word I could use to describe her expression. Would she do it?

Her eyes narrowed on me with that strange and haunting golden-amber color. “Fine. If you insist.” She dropped her arms, stood tall, and walked toward me, every bare, naked inch of skin slick with water.

Fuuuck.

She made her way to the stairs, and my eyes were riveted on her as she climbed out.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I swallowed hard, but fought to maintain my trademark smug smile. Yve’s body could stop a rampaging mob in its tracks. My resolve to have her under me shot up to needs to happen right the fuck now.

She stared me down, which surprised me. Most women didn’t have the guts to do it. I could think of only one who’d gone toe to toe with me, and sadly, she now belonged to another man.

Yve was in a class all her own, though. Round, high tits, a narrow waist, and a smooth, gently curved stomach flowed into the sinfully perfect flare of her hips. Naked, proud, and sexy as fuck, she strode toward me. I expected her to go right for the stack of towels, but she didn’t.

My cock, already hard, surged against my zipper, testing its strength. She stopped in front of me.

“As big of a dick as you are, I hope you’ve got the equipment to match.” Her hand shot out, and before I could guess her intent, her fist wrapped around my cock.

“Jesus fuck, woman—” I grunted.

“Don’t you ever try to humiliate me again, you rich prick.” She squeezed my dick in warning, and Christ almighty if it didn’t get even harder.

But I wouldn’t back down from anyone, even now. So I repaid her in kind, reaching out a hand to cup her lush, full breast. Good God, did I want to fuck those tits.

She swallowed and jerked, but not before I rolled her nipple between my thumb and finger and squeezed. Her pupils dilated. She wanted this. Wanted me.

A rush of power laced my pumping blood. She was wild—and unpredictable if my dick in her hand was any indication. But I would bend her to my will. And we’d both fucking love it.

Her grip on my cock tightened again.

“You getting a good feel for it, Yve? Getting wet thinking about how I’d stretch your tight little cunt and fill you up?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “You have no shame, do you?”

I shook my head slowly. She might have had me nearly by the balls, but I was still the only predator in this room.

“None at all. In fact, I’d give a whole hell of a lot to watch you sink to your knees right now so I could fuck that sassy mouth of yours.”

She swallowed, and once again, moved faster than I anticipated. Before I knew it, she released her grip as her other palm cracked against my cheek.

I caught her wrist midair as she pulled it back for another run at me. “You get one. That’s it.”

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” Yve spat the words from between gritted teeth.

“For now.” I released her wrist and she spun, stalking stiffly to the towels.

My dick, missing her grip already, throbbed at the sight of her perfectly heart-shaped ass, and I bit back a groan. Mmm. That ass.

She wrapped a towel around her, covering all that smooth, sleek skin—skin that I could spend hours tasting—and turned as she jammed a corner of the towel between her breasts.

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You’re an asshole.”

“That’s not news,” I replied. “What is news, however, is that you’ve got the most perfect tits and ass I’ve ever seen.”

The dusky hue of her nipples once again stained her sharp cheekbones. “An asshole and a pig.”

“And you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Dry off, and I’ll meet you in the conservatory. I have a feeling this is going to require Scotch.” I stepped toward the door of the pool room, and paused. “In case you haven’t familiarized yourself with the house beyond the pool, the conservatory is in the east wing. Next door after you pass the library.”

As I pushed open the door, I was pretty certain I heard her whisper, “What the fuck is a conservatory, and why the hell does he need one?”

A smile curled along my lips at that little gem.

“HOLY SHIT,” I MUTTERED AS I grabbed another towel and dried my hair. “Lucas Goddamn Titan. No fucking way.”