Page 37 of Sweet Chaos
Kissing Scarlett didn’t feel like the prelude to sex, it felt like the main event. I wanted to kiss her until her lips were raw and swollen, and the only word on the tip of her tongue was my name.
Just one taste of her and what little resolve I had crumbled to dust.
She didn’t protest when I gripped her hips and pushed her farther into the room. Kicking the door shut, I lifted her off the ground, her legs cinching around my waist, her mouth still fused to mine. Her back hit the tall dresser against the wall, our tongues dueling like this was a battle for possession.
I groaned, she moaned. Her fingernails raked down my back, scoring my skin, marking me.
It was nothing short of a fucking miracle that my towel was still firmly in place even though my erection threatened to rip right through the thick cotton and accidentally end up buried inside her. With the way she was grinding against me and the way I was acting like a teenager who had just discovered how to get off by dry humping a mattress, I wouldn’t be surprised if I jizzed all over my fucking towel.
I spun us around and tossed her onto my bed, her back bouncing off the mattress, her T-shirt riding up to expose cotton boy shorts. Since when had cotton underwear become so sexy? When Scarlett Woods wore them, that’s when.
“What are we doing?” she finally thought to ask, pushing herself onto her elbows as my hands wrapped around her ankles and dragged her to the edge of the mattress, her ass practically hanging off it.
“I can’t… I’m not going to…”
“Fuck me?” I asked, sliding the cotton down her legs so her pussy was bare to me. Nudging her thighs apart, I planted her feet flat on the mattress and dropped to my knees in front of her.
I wanted to build a shrine to her pussy. Worship at the altar of Scarlett Woods.
“Do you want this, Starlet?”
“Yes. I mean… Dylan,” she said breathlessly, a little whimper escaping when I dragged my fingers through her slick heat, wet with her arousal. She was every bit as delectable as I’d imagined. Ripe like a peach, her juices coating my fingers.
“We’ll take it slow.” Not sure I had a slow setting but there was a first for everything.
I guided my fingers to her lips.
“Taste yourself.” She sucked on my fingers, her eyes at half-mast, cheeks hollowed, my cock swelling as she licked my fingers clean.
I draped her leg over my shoulder and used my thumbs to open the lips of her pussy, licking her from crack to clit.
Scarlett moaned, lacing her fingers through my hair and holding the back of my skull.
I pinched her clit between my fingers, my tongue diving inside her tight walls. I was in so deep I didn’t think I’d ever get out.
Her moans intensified, and she was writhing in front of me, her eyes closed. “Oh, my God.”
That’s right. But instead of using God’s name in vain, I want you screaming my name.
“You like this?” I asked, massaging her swollen clit and fucking her with tongue.
“Mmm hmm. I never… I mean… nobody…”
I lifted my head to look at her face. Even in the dim shadows of the room, I could see her blush a pretty pink. “Nobody’s ever gone down on you?”
Her lashes lowered. “I don’t give blow jobs.” As if that was an explanation. But what the fuck?
“Why not?” My fingers bit into the flesh of her ass cheek, demanding an answer. Part of me was happy she’d never done this before. The other part of me didn’t know what to make of it.
“Um… I mean, I tried but it made me…” She averted her head. “I just couldn’t do it.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” I said, making her laugh and then gasp when I slid two fingers inside her, stretching her tight walls, reaching and curling until I hit a spot that made her cry out and grind against my hand.
“I’m so close… I’m going to…”
“Come for me,” I commanded, biting her clit. Sending her over the edge.
She came in a spectacular way, my name replacing God’s, her entire body convulsing.
