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Scarlett stares at me, rooted to the spot, and her eyes get bright and glittery as high spots of pink hit her cheeks.
I run through all the things I can say, the threats and promises, the philosophical arguments. The lewd and depraved. But in the end, I choose one single fucking word.
“Now.”
A shudder visibly ripples through her. She goes still, in that closed-off way she has where she seems to curl in on herself.
And then she downs the rest of her drink before slowly sinking to her knees.
She fucking crawls over to me.
And it’s one of the hottest fucking things I’ve ever seen in my life.
She doesn’t look down. There’s no act, just the sway of her hips as she moves until she’s here, right between my legs. She sits back on her heels and looks up. We stare at each other, and I give her a slight nod.
Like I gave her verbal permission, she slides her hands along my thighs and then to the button and zipper on my pants. The hiss of it parting cracks the silence. She reaches into my boxer briefs.
But I stop her because I need something else first. It’s something I should have done outside the bar.
Sliding a finger over her lips, I keep my eyes glued to hers, then shift my finger to beneath her chin, and like there’s string attached, she lifts up, offering me her mouth. I take it. Our lips meet and I part hers with the tip of my tongue.
Soft and sweet, the heat and smoke of the scotch a tantalizing buzz on her tongue as hers and mine touch. It’s like a hand around my fucking cock, a fire burning bright in my groin. A swoop of a roller coaster lives in this kiss.
Yeah, I can do this. And one kiss tells me everything.
Fucking her is going to be good.
Maybe even phenomenal.
I could leave it here. For now. But I’m greedy.
So I break away from her lips and settle back against the couch. “Do it.”
“Shit…” she whispers, so soft I almost miss it.
But she doesn’t back down. I’m aching, so fucking hard, the touch of her fingers as they wrap around my cock is almost too much.
“You’re so…” She dips her head down, tongue tentatively grazing the tip. “Big.”
And then I lose my fucking mind as her lips clamp around me. She sucks me into the heat and wetness of her mouth. It’s a little all over the place. She lacks rhythm and focus, not sure if she should swallow me down or suck hard, so she does both, and it’s so fucking good.
She’s magic. I swear to fucking God, she’s magic.
I wrap my hand in her hair and start to guide her head up and down. She learns fast, going a little deeper, her mouth pulling on me as her lips stretch to take me deeper.
What I want to do is slam her down so my dick hits the back of her throat. I want to fucking choke her on me, make her fight and drool.
“Fuck, yes,” I say, hissing out the words. “Go deeper, harder.”
I want her to make me almost come. I’m just under it, I feel that pressure in my balls, the way my spine starts to send out electric bursts.
Getting off is everything in this moment, hitting all the spots, feeling wet, hot flesh banging against my tip, the way she’s making her mouth tight and a tunnel for me to fuck my way into.
But I stop right before the moment of no return. And I push her away.
Now’s the real test. Sucking me off is one thing. But how far is she really willing to go? How much of this is about her family? And how much is about her?
I don’t need to blackmail women for sex. I can get plenty of it whenever I want. But something about Scarlett has my head in a twist.
