When they are secured, Scarlett spins around to have a look in the mirror, reaching her arms back to test them out herself.
“Now this is my kind of dress,” she says, with nothing less than awe in her voice.
“It’s one of a kind,” I tell her. “Made just for you, Bonnie.”
She walks back towards me, and her eyes are hungry. When she reaches for me, I trap her wrists and plant her arse in the chair instead.
“I’m not done yet.”
I kneel down next to her this time, retrieving the lace thigh holster I ordered for her too. I slide it up over her delicate ankle and calf, my fingers brushing along her skin as I go. When my hand disappears beneath the material of her dress, she shivers and I clamp my fingers down around her flesh.
Her eyes lock onto mine, pleading for more.
My other hand moves up beneath the dress, securely lodging the small pistol inside.
She releases a breath then, and so do I.
But it’s not over yet.
I know what my little hellraiser really likes to play with. So I secure another sheath on her opposite thigh, made for her brand new stiletto knife. Just as sexy and dangerous as Scarlett herself.
“I don’t think you’ve given me enough weapons,” she laughs.
“Aye,” I agree. “I’ve got a couple more.”
I show her the matching stiletto heels. Aptly named after the very same dagger that rests aside the soft, warm skin of her creamy thigh.
They are silver with black decorative spikes.
But Scarlett, being the curious kitten that she is, knows better. When she reaches out to touch one with her finger, I try to stop her, but it’s too late.
She pricks herself, and crimson oozes from the end of her finger as she pulls it away.
“Jesus,” she says.
“Obsidian,” I explain to her as I reach for her finger and bring it to my lips.
I soothe her wound with my tongue, tasting her in the most primal of ways.
“You never told me you could get all these gadgets,” she murmurs, and she is so hot for me I can only imagine the kind of fucking we could do right about now.
“I’ve got my resources.”
She leans into my space, trying again to lure me to those deadly red lips of hers. But I pull away, shoving the case of weapons into her lap instead.
My dick is practically sawing through my jeans, and I know she knows it too.
She can smell my arousal, so close to her. Practically taste the pre-cum dripping from the head of my cock as she licks her lips.
There is no distracting her right now, even with weapons.
“Rory,” she says, her voice soft and sweet. “There’s something I want to tell you.”
I stand up and turn away from her because I can’t resist her when she’s like this. My resolve is fleeing, the longer we are alone, and I really wish her friend would hurry the fuck up and get here already.
“Tell me later,” I say gruffly.
“What if there is no later?” she whispers.
