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She nods again, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
I take three large steps in her direction until I’m standing right in front of her. I firmly grasp her chin, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “I need to hear your words, Little Star.”
“Yes. I understand. What will the punishment be, though?” she asks, her eyes darting between mine as her breaths come in quick pants.
“That depends on how badly you don’t listen. Could be anything from a spanking to not being allowed to cum. Don’t worry, Little Star, I won’t punish you with anything that’s on your list.” I flash her a cocky grin.
“Now, both of you undress for me and do it slowly. I have a show to watch.” I move to the plush charcoal chair across from the bed and take a seat, setting the list haphazardly on the small table beside me. I cross my legs and watch as the two stunning humans in front of me begin to undress.
Alistair's hands move to his tie, loosening it as his eyes stay fixed on Scarlett, who gracefully reaches behind her to unzip her black floor-length dress.
The straps slide down her arms, unveiling a glimpse of her strapless black lace bra. Her nipples are hard and pressing against the fabric. Her flesh-colored peaks catch Alistair's attention, and he lets out a hiss, making her blush.
For someone who is pretty open in the bedroom, she sure seems anxious and blushes easily. Maybe that’s her thing? Playing the naive girl until things get started and then she’s a little freak? Tonight will tell.
Alistair shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it over to me. I quickly catch it and shoot him a disapproving look before carefully setting it on the arm of the chair. He then slowly unbuttons his black dress shirt as we both watch Scarlett’s dress pool around her feet, still in a pair of strappy black heels.
With a mischievous wink, she plops down on the bed, delicately removing her shoes to reveal impeccably manicured white toenails. I’ve never been the foot fetish type, but she has the cutest little feet I’ve ever seen, her choice of polish a stark contrast to her sun-kissed skin.
“I love your tattoos,” she whispers when Alistair has his shirt off, the black ink covering his biceps, now on display.
“Do you have any tattoos?” he asks, and she flinches but quickly recovers before shaking her head.
“No. I would love to have one, maybe two, but I’m not allowed.”
The urge to ask her who doesn’t allow a grown woman to do things rides me hard, but I hold my tongue. This is a one-night situation, so there’s no need to get involved in this girl’s drama, even if she is a fucking smoke show.
“These are just a few.” Alistair bites his bottom lip. “Let me show you my favorite one.”
As he spins around, I can't help but roll my eyes at his show-off behavior, revealing his back to her. Every inch of his back is covered in ink. Etched into his skin, a haunting image of the grim reaper unfolds—a somber figure with a scythe and expansive black wings, beckoning lost souls in a cemetery.
Gasping, she brings a hand to her mouth in shock. “It’s beautiful, but also so dark.”
He spins back around, his fingers quickly undoing the buttons of his slacks and pushing them down his muscular thighs until they’re piled on top of his shoe-covered feet. In a swift motion, he kicks off his loafers and sheds his pants, revealing only a snug pair of boxer briefs.
“Can I help you take the rest off?” he asks Scarlett. She hesitates for a minute before agreeing.
He steps up to her, helps her stand from the bed, and runs his hands up and down her arms, comforting her since it’s clear she’s still anxious.
“Kiss her,” I command. He narrows his eyes at me before looking at her with a soft smile. Slowly, he dips his head, taking her lips with his.
Watching the two of them lock lips ignites a fire within me. Alistair slides his tongue across her lips, and she opens for him. Her moans fill the air as she savors his taste, her body pressing firmly against his. His hands snake behind her, undoing the clasps on her bra. It falls to the floor, and his hands eagerly find their way to her perfect breasts.
He cups them in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her nipples. They fit perfectly in his hands. If I was a betting man, I’d say she’s a perfect C cup.
Her hands, so delicate and trembling, reach for the waistband of his briefs. As she clumsily tugs them down his legs, their passionate kiss comes to an abrupt halt and her eyes widen on his throbbing cock.
“Is everything alright?” Alistair asks. I can see his cheeks begin to redden as she stares slack-jawed at his dick.
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m fine. You’re just huge. I’m not sure it’ll fit comfortably,” she admits.
“You have blood, knife, and gunplay marked as okay on your list and you’re worried about a little pain with his cock?” I raise a brow at her.
She whips her head around to look at me, and I see her nostrils flare. Oh, I pissed off the little star.
“It’s not its length, asshole. He’s about as girthy as a coke can,” she snaps, and I chuckle.
“Yeah, he is rather thick, huh? You’ll be fine, Little Star,” I reassure her. “Why don’t you stroke him a few times to prepare him?”
