Page 79 of Taming Scarlet

I didn’t want it, anyway.

I needed more.

I needed the way he used my hips to slam me back into him as he thrust deep.

The way he released me only to expose my breasts, hands covering them as he fucked me.

“Feel how good you’re taking me?” he groaned as my pussy tightened, getting closer and closer. “Tell me your ass is mine,” he demanded.

“It’s yours.”

“Say it, pet,” he hissed.

“My ass is yours,” I said as one of his hands left my breast to close around my neck as I got closer and closer.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the orgasm screamed through me, making my pussy spasm as my legs shook and a loud cry escaped me, echoing out across the nothingness, swallowed up by the crashing of the waves.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fucking me through it, then pulling out, and coming on my ass.

My legs wobbled hard after, making me lower down onto my knees as I tried to slow my breathing. I almost felt dizzy from the intensity of that orgasm.

“You okay, pet?” he murmured, reaching down to rest a hand on my shoulder. When I didn’t answer, he gathered a handful of my hair, pulling my head to the side then up until my gaze lifted to his. “Answer me,” he demanded, but his voice was soft.

“Yes,” I said, taking a shaky breath. His eyes softened at that before something caught his eye out beyond me.

“We should probably get your tits away,” he said, nodding his chin toward where a trio of men were starting to walk down the beach. Too far away to really see anything yet, but getting closer by the second.

“This is Portugal. They’re not as puritanical about being topless on or near the beach like we are,” I said.

“Maybe so,” he agreed, reaching down to yank my top back into place. “But no one gets to see you like this but me.”

Maybe some part of me should have balked at that, been insulted that he felt he had ownership over my body.

But if there was ever a man in the whole world I would be okay with saying that, it was Julian.

“Come,” he said, reaching for my hand, then pulling me back into the room with him. “Let’s shower before dinner.”

“You’re not going to make me wear the plug again, are you?”

Oh, no.

He didn’t have a plug in mind.

It was far, far worse.

As I walked out of the bathroom, all pretty for dinner, he reached inside his little bag of tricks and pulled out something pink.

“What is that?” I asked, feeling my pussy throb at the idea of more long-term torment.

“Come over here,” he demanded, sitting on the bed, and waiting for me to approach. “Lift your skirt.”

When I did, he lowered my panties, but only halfway down my thighs.

“Spread your legs for me.”

They moved apart immediately, and he stroked the skin-soft pink thing up and down my cleft until I was wet and writhing.

Then, with it lubed up from my own desire, he slipped the thicker part of it inside me, and I was shocked to find the other end of it almost… clamped against my cleft, holding the penetrative part inside of me.

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