I slide the strap of her gown down her shoulder, and her little tit pops out, peaked and perky. I have to taste it. I slip the little nipple into my mouth and nibble at her sensitive skin. I don't want to draw out her milk, so I just tease it in order to arouse her. I tug down the other strap and do the same to her other nipple as her legs bracket mine.
“Fuck me,” she rasps, almost desperate.
“I will, but first,” I dip my finger into her. “I want to play, get you all hot and riled up.”
I kiss my way down her body to her belly button, where I swirl my tongue around it. She tastes like jasmine soap and clean skin. As I kiss my way down further between her legs, I pull off her panties and find her wet and ready. She shivers as soon as my tongue enters her body.
I suck at her clit and chew the skin around her labia, igniting her with prickles and tiny blasts of pain. I find a little agony always reminds me that I am alive.
She gasps and moans as her hands fly into my hair, pulling thefollicles from the root. “Fuck me,” she demands, and I realize that she is beyond foreplay and really wants to feel me in order to feel alive.
“Yes, ma’am,” I tease, but she isn’t playing with me. She is clinging to life.
“Now, please.”
I dip out of my sleep pants and am hard as a rock and ready to enter her, but before I do, I place myself between her legs, nudging the tip of my cock at her swollen center. I am not teasing her; I am savoring the moment before I enter her. I don't want to just rut her like an animal. She needs to know that I am there, that I am with her, and that I want her to feel connected. I bring her face to mine, I look into those deep blue eyes, and I kiss her soft sweet lips.
“You’re mine,” I say. “And unless you beg me, I’m not going to let you go. Ever. We can make love, fuck, or play every night for the rest of our lives, and if you want more babies, we’ll have them. I am investing in you, Scarlett Myers. I’m letting my guard down and I’m allowing you in. Do you understand?” I kiss her again as tears roll down her cheeks, and I slowly enter her body.
“Why?” Her arms band around my back.
“Because you deserve to be loved, and so I’m going to try and love you. I’m an empty vessel, but you fill me. So let’s hope I can do this.” I move gently inside of her.
“Then fuck this pussy like you own it,” she says with the tiniest smile, and finally, I see the light flicker inside of her again.
After being given the thumbs up, I curl my arms around her, kiss her chin, and push deeper inside. She feels incredible squeezing my cock with that exquisite pussy. She has the most muscular body that just grabs my cock and holds onto it.
It doesn't take long before I am thrusting and pumping. I want to fuck her into next week. Everything in my whole world is going to be Scarlett.
“Yes,” she cries out as I flip her on top of me.
“Ride me, tiny dancer. Take what you need.”
I hold her hands, and she angles and moves until she finds her G-spot. It is a place I know well on her body, but I want her in control. I think she feels powerless and she wants to be fucked so that she can be jostled awake, but I do one better. I give her the power.
She smiles at me, and I see her bright, gleaming eyes spark to life.
“Fuck me, Scarlett. Make me cum,” I demand in the throes of ecstasy, and she doesn’t disappoint.
She rocks herself on top of me, rolling back and forth and making me go in deeper and deeper and deeper until she falls on top of me and kisses my lips. Her mouth begs mine to open, and our tongues tangle with one another. My hand grazes over her ass as she continues to drive herself onto me until I can feel her body tensing as she is close to climax. I dip my finger in between her ass crack and play with her back hole, and she gasps as her body clenches mine and shivers out an orgasm.
“There you are,” I shout, and she smiles, grinding on me until I come so hard I see stars.
Chapter Twenty
Scarlett
“Oh my God, that was so good.” I gasp, not able to say more thanit was good, I felt good.
“You’re telling me,” Beckett laughs and agrees.
“I don't want to be broken.” I don't want to be so fragile.
“You aren’t broken, Scarlett,” Beckett says.
“My mom was a whore. A legitimate sex worker with a pimp on the streets. She was sixteen years old when she gave birth to me. I'm the product of her stepfather’s sexual abuse.”
I am not sure why I am suddenly telling him all of this, but I feel like if I confess it, he will understand why I don’t want to be broken by anyone. I have to be strong, never faltering, because I could end up like her.
