It’s started.
Ethan is really gone, and I didn’t do it but I am relieved and I am grateful to Rory and I want to show him how grateful I am.
My fingers are jittery when I let my dress fall to the floor and kick it away from me. Rory’s hard for me already, his dick busting at the seams of his briefs when he gets a look at the red lace bra and thong set. But it’s the heels though. He loves me in heels and his eyes keep moving down my legs and I know he wants me to keep them on.
So I do.
I feel things, right now. Like this. In this room. With him.
I don’t know exactly what these things are. But they are there, in my chest. In my stomach. In the blood rushing through my veins.
I want him.
And I don’t want anybody else to have him.
My pulse is beating hard in my throat, and my body hungers to be on his. It’s foreign for me, to be so out of control.
I’m always in control.
Rory is threatening that. Taking it away from me.
“Scarlett?” he asks. “Are ye alright?”
I blink and give him a stiff nod. And then I slide my thong down over my hips and step out of it, kicking it away with my heels.
I move towards him.
His fingers curl over the arms of the chair, and he wants to touch, but he’s being good for me. His neck is tight and corded and his eyes are all over me. And I’m glad I’m not the only one feeling so off kilter right now.
“You are pure fucking torture,” he groans as I step between his muscular thighs. “Pure sin.”
I grab onto his shoulders and move my knee up beside his hip before swinging my other up on the opposite side. Straddling him.
My lace clad breasts are in his face, and his head dips forward, just a little, before I grab his hair and pull it closer.
I want him to.
I want him to do what he wants, but I also need to be in control.
It’s confusing.
“Touch me,” I murmur.
He does. His hands slide up the back of my thighs to squeeze the flesh of my ass in his palms as his mouth latches directly onto my lace covered nipple.
It scratches against my skin and he sucks it inside, and this is different and it’s good and it’s hot. He licks me through the thin barrier of the bra, eating at me and rubbing his face all over my tits. One of his hands is on my hip now, grinding me down onto his erection. He’s solid and already leaking come and so plump it has to hurt.
I want to touch him too, so I reach down and cup him through the briefs, jacking him off through the cotton and tasting the skin of his throat.
“Scarlett, fucking Christ,” he murmurs.
His fingers tangle in my hair and he shoves my face deeper into the space of his neck. He likes my lips on him. He likes it when I suck on his throat and leave a mark too.
My bra comes off at some point, and he pulls me against his chest. I like the way my nipples feel on his skin, rough and hot. And now his mouth is on my throat too. He drags his nose against my skin and then buries it in my hair, muffling his groans as I roll my hips over his cock.
I reach around and claw at his back and tell him I want him inside of me.
It isn’t a lie.
