The Extravagant Collection, page 45
Scarlett laughs playfully, then waggles her fingers. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“I’ll do everything you’d do,” Elodie says with a wink, then they scurry away.
Scarlett tosses back the rest of her wine and sets down the glass.
My gaze pins hers. “Let’s do all the things you would do.”
As we walk down the hall to our room, I slide a hand around her waist. “You have a little bit of an exhibitionist in you,” I whisper.
“Apparently, I like it when strangers think we have the hottest sex ever,” she says.
“They don’t have to think it. Because I know it. Because we do.”
She stops, drags her nails down my chest, and grabs the waistband of my trousers. “We do. It’s raw and it’s primal, and my husband can’t get enough of me.”
I growl, desire pounding through my body as Scarlett makes all of her wishes clear. She’s communicating her fantasies. Letting me know she’s never had the kind of sex that she wants. She’s never been worshipped. She’s never been ravaged. I cup her cheeks, gripping her face hard. “You’ve never been fucked good and hard by a man who wants nothing more than to have you.”
“No. I haven’t.”
“That’s about to change.”
We open the door and go inside.
17
DANIEL
Inside the room, I pounce. I grab her wrists, pinning them above her head.
She trembles, her body vibrating with need. “Did you do that on the veranda to get me all worked up?” My voice is dark, smoky.
She grins like a siren. “Did it work? Did it get you worked up?”
I slam my hips against her, letting her feel the length of me. “Every second I’ve spent with you today has made me want what I’m about to do to you now.”
“What are you about to do to me now?” She’s breathy, her voice laced with wanton curiosity.
I drag my nose along her neck, inhaling her scent. It drives me mad with lust. She’s wearing the perfume I gave her. When I reach her ear, I draw her lobe between my teeth then nip.
She murmurs, a sign for me to bite harder. I nibble on her earlobe, and she gasps. “The way you smell reminds me that you’re mine,” I whisper.
“Because you gave it to me. Because you want to mark me.”
“You want to be marked.”
She thrusts her hips closer to me, her pelvis seeking me out. I slam my body against her again so she can feel what she’s done to me.
With her arms high above her head, her wrists pinned in my left hand, I drag my stubbled jaw across her face, my kisses trailing over her cheek. I reach her lips, dust a kiss there, then claim her lush mouth, hard and devouring. It’s a kiss that makes my brain hazy, that makes every cell in my body heat up.
I drop her wrists, pull back, and gaze at her lust-struck expression, her glossy eyes. “I know that you want it rough. But the question is, how rough do you want it, love? How hard do you want me to fuck you?”
She swallows, her lips trembling, then she lifts her chin. “I want to feel it tomorrow. I want it to blot out everything I’ve ever felt before. I want it to be the only thing I feel.”
Desire thrums through me. I run the back of my hand down her cheek. “Like I said, my wife is dirty.”
“So dirty,” she whispers, then I claim her lips once more with a ruthless kiss.
I’m not gentle. Not in the least. I devour her mouth, kissing her hungrily. I consume her, tugging her bottom lip with my teeth, making her moan, making her growl. I travel along her neck again, biting as I go. She arches against me, her nails dragging down my back. I listen to her every cue. I slide my hands along her stomach and up over her breasts, reaching for the top button on her blouse.
I tug at her blouse, then rip it apart, and she gasps.
I shake my head, pressing a finger against her lips. “Don’t say a word, love. I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow,” I say.
She gives a quick, eager nod, then whispers, “Tear all my clothes off. I don’t fucking care. Tear them off like it’s all you want.”
The corner of my lips curves into a grin. “I don’t have to do it like it’s all I want. It is all I want.”
I yank her short skirt, tugging it down her legs, letting it pool at her heels, where she steps out of it.
She wears only the shoes, a white satin bra with lace trim, and matching knickers. I grab at the middle of her bra. Twisting it. Making the fabric squeeze her tits together, pushing them up above the cups. My dick throbs harder as I stare at those gorgeous globes. “You bought this for me to rip it off, didn’t you?”
She nods, panting out a yes.
“You want me to ruin this gorgeous piece of lingerie?”
“Yes.”
I tug at the satin fabric, yank it hard, then I grip the hook, jerking it off, not caring what happens to it.
I free her tits.
I grab them, squeezing and twisting, and she tosses her head back, moaning and groaning, her noises rising higher, growing even more desperate.
“My God, you love when I play with your tits, don’t you?”
She bows her back, arching, and moans, “Yes, like that. Just like that.”
I give her everything she wants. I want it too. The wildness of pleasure, the roughness of sex, the intensity of us coming together. I treat her tits like they’re toys, like I can do anything to them I want. I knead them as I bend my neck, drawing one delicious nipple into my mouth and biting hard. She yelps, grabs my face, and shoves me back against her chest.
I suck and devour her breasts, giving it to her just the way she wants. Her hips thrust against me as I nibble greedily. She moans, a delicious series of oh Gods and yeses. Finally, I release her tits, rise up, thread my hands into her hair, and kiss her neck again, dragging her head back, pulling hard.
She yelps.
Every moan she makes is a symphony, and I want to play her body, hear all the music she can make.
She’s better than the violin.
She’s sexier than a Beethoven concerto.
She’s more alluring than any Brahms.
I bring my lips to her ear. “You want to be ruined, don’t you?”
“I do,” she says.
“I’m going to ruin you by fucking you the only way you should be fucked.”
“And what way is that?” she asks on a savage pant. I lower my right hand, thread my fingers into the waistband of her knickers, grab them, and pull roughly, watching as the satin tightens against her pussy.
Tugging on the fabric, I turn it into a sex toy, pulling it up and down, back and forth over her wet clit.
She grabs my shoulders, thrusts out her hips, and moans.
“You need to be fucked by a man who wants you. By a man who is consumed by you and only you,” I tell her as I work the lace fabric up and down over the delicious rise of pleasure.
“I do, I do,” she gasps, savoring every tug and pull as I use the lace to get her off the way she wants me most.
Her fingers curl tighter on my shoulders, digging in, hanging on. Her eyes are closed, her lips are parted, and then she’s screaming out in pleasure. “Yes, yes, yes.”
I pull up the white satin, twisting it harder, dangerously close to sending her to her first orgasm.
Her hands go tighter around my shoulders.
“I bet you can come in seconds,” I grunt.
She gasps wildly, then she’s crying out, moaning and groaning and falling apart in pleasure.
Panting, gasping, murmuring.
My skin crackles with lust.
My dick has never been harder.
It’s thumping against my trousers, eager to bury itself in her.
I growl in her ear. “You’re so fucking dirty. Look at you coming in your own knickers.”
Her mouth parts, and she breathes out hard. “Do you like knowing you married a dirty woman?”
“I like treating you like the dirty woman you are. Now turn around, raise your ass, and tell me how much you want me to smack it.”
“So much,” she says, trembling as she turns around, presses her palms against the wall, and offers me that beautiful ass. I raise a hand high in the air, then bring it down hard on her flesh.
She shakes, crying out.
Then the other cheek.
She moans and groans.
I grip the flesh of her ass, squeezing it roughly as I gather all her hair in my other hand, pull it to the side, then tug it. “That’s what you want, don’t you? To know that I’m as wild as you are?”
She practically cries as she nods. “Yes.”
“Then let’s get you down on your hands and knees. Leave your shoes on.” I tug off her knickers, sliding them down her legs. She steps out of them and kneels on the floor, sapphire heels still on.
“Watch me as I take my clothes off,” I tell her.
She stares like a hungry creature with ravenous eyes as I unbutton my shirt and unbuckle my belt, tossing them carelessly onto the floor behind me. Shoes and socks go next, then trousers, then my boxer briefs. I’m down to nothing.
I take my cock in my hand, shuddering from the pleasure. “Do you know how badly I want to come on your face right now?”
Her eyes float closed for a second, and she shudders. “Tell me how badly.”
I slide a hand over her hair, coiling it around her skull, my dick sliding along her lips. “I want to come in your hair, on your back, on your face, but I want to come inside you even more. When my cock is in you, I’m going to own your body. I’m going to ravage it. I’m going to leave marks all over you,” I say as I bend, reach into my trousers on the floor, and grab a condom.
I get behind her on my knees, sheathing myself, then press a palm between her shoulder blades. “Down to your elbows. Lift your ass. It’s better for me to fuck you ruthlessly.” I savor the view in front of me as Scarlett obeys every command, offering herself, giving me the most fantastic view in the universe, her wet, needy pussy practically begging for my body. “Are you aching for me?”
“I am.”
I slide my hand between her legs where she’s wetter and hotter after her orgasm. She arches and moves with me as I slide my hand up and down, savoring her slickness.
“This is how you need to be fucked. By a man who wants you.”
“I want you too. So much,” she says, like she’s begging.
My eyes eat her up, enjoying the feast of her body as I line up behind her.
She lifts her hips higher, giving herself to me. I rub the head of my cock against her wetness, a sharp, delicious burst of pleasure surging through me.
Lighting me up.
I push farther, and she groans wickedly.
That’s all I can take.
I slide into her in one hard, deep move, filling her to the hilt.
She groans like an animal, tossing her head back.
I still myself for a few fevered seconds, savoring her hot grip, the way it sends shock waves of lust pounding through me. Inhaling sharply, I let breath flood my body as desire washes over me.
I’m going to fuck her hard.
This is what my woman has been missing, and I’m going to give it all to her.
I take her words at face value, holding nothing back. I keep one hand on her shoulder blades, making sure she’s near the floor. As I drive into her, I draw out her moans and groans and wild sounds of ecstasy.
But that’s not enough. She wants to be marked. She wants to feel this for days. I take my hand off her shoulder blades and grip her hips, digging my fingers in, leaving marks. “You want bruise marks?”
“I do. I do,” she says, gasping and writhing as she thrusts her hips back onto my cock, fucking against me as I fuck into her. I reach around to her tits, grasping them, gripping them so damn hard in my hands.
I swear I can feel her pussy grow wetter as I punish her tits, squeezing so hard they’ll be bruised tomorrow.
I let go and return to abusing her ass, smacking her over and over again. Her sounds are the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard as she chases wild pleasure. As she seeks out the kind of bliss she’s evidently never had before. As she learns exactly what it’s like to be taken by a man who’s consumed by her.
As her moans grow louder, the pleasure in me spirals higher, gathering in the base of my spine. When I can tell she’s near the edge, I band an arm tight around her waist, play with her clit, and coax an epic orgasm out of her.
Her sounds are delirious notes of bliss.
Seconds later, my own climax throttles me, blotting out anything, everything, as I come hard, so damn hard inside her.
I want to collapse on her. Fall on top of her. But first, I pull out, remove the condom, and toss it into the bin. Gently, I take off her shoes then lift her up, carry her to the bathroom, and turn on the shower.
“Let me clean you up. Let me look at all the places where you’re going to be marked tomorrow,” I say.
She simply nods, looking drugged out, blissed out, as I wash her tenderly in the shower. She murmurs then smiles. “I’m so hungry.”
I laugh. “Then I better feed my naughty wife dinner before I feed her my cock again.”
“That sounds like a perfect evening.”
The only thing that’s not so perfect is when she runs her finger across my hand, across my scar, and I can tell, I can absolutely tell, that soon she’s going to want to know all the things I don’t share.
All the things I keep locked up.
But maybe, for the first time, I want her to know.
Some of them, at least.
18
SCARLETT
A message blinks at me in the morning.
I picture it tapping its toe, checking its wristwatch, huffing and puffing, saying, “I’m waiting.”
It can only be Nadia.
With my body deliciously sore, I slide open the message.
Nadia: Where is my report? I WANT IT NOW!
I laugh quietly from under the covers, the handsome man I spent the night with sound asleep on his stomach.
In our honeymoon suite.
My life is indeed a theater. And I love playing this part.
I read the next text.
Nadia: I can only conclude either you endured a horrible injury from the sapphire heels, which you damn well better be wearing, or you suffered a sex injury. Did you break your vagina? Is it in a cast? A sling? A splint? Sidenote: do they make vaginal splints?
A laugh bursts from me, but I quiet it quickly so I don’t wake my companion. I tap out a reply.
Scarlett: New market opportunity—vaginal splints for over-sexing. Fortunately, I’m simply in my bed as a result of a condition known as orgasm excessia.
Nadia: Too many orgasms. I’d like to catch that one. Give me the details now.
Scarlett: I hardly know where to begin except . . . you were right.
Nadia: Always a good start to any story. I take it you indulged in the wigs and a little role-play?
Scarlett: Yes! I had no idea that would unleash everything so quickly. But it did. I swear, as soon as I saw him at the train station, and I was dressed as a redhead in a sassy, bold dress, I felt liberated.
Nadia: Liberated from your past, you mean?
Scarlett: Exactly. I felt like a different woman. Like someone who could own all her fantasies. Someone who had a partner who wanted to know them, indulge them. It was never that way with Jonathan. He was never that excited. Anyway, let’s not talk about Jonathan.
Nadia: Words to live by. Tell me all about Mr. Orgasm Dispenser instead. Is that what you call Daniel now?
Scarlett: Oh, yes. Of course.
Nadia: Excellent. I probably won’t use it when I see him, but it’s useful to know his secret identity for party planning and whatnot. So, how does the whole fake name ruse work?
Scarlett: We pick different names each day. It’s crazy and wonderful. We pretend we’re newlyweds, and it’s like a whole new world.
Nadia: And that gives you the freedom to explore what you want and what you’ve craved. Right?
Scarlett: Yes. I’m finally having the sex I want. It’s wild and carnal and frequent. Last night, we fucked twice before bed. I’m in dirty heaven.
Nadia: So it’s a sex cornucopia? I want to be incredibly jealous, but if anybody deserves that, it’s you.
Scarlett: I’m devouring all the goodies in the cornucopia, thank you very much. I’m feasting like a glutton. But the thing is, I also feel like when we pretend, I can open up to Daniel in other ways. I actually told him—gasp!—about Jonathan.
Nadia: Whoa. That’s a huge step. You don’t usually share that with anyone.
Scarlett: I don’t. But it was easy to tell him—more so than I expected. Maybe because it’s all occurring in this container of make-believe. But it felt so freeing. Like I’d been carrying around this terrible and embarrassing secret and could finally let go of it.
Nadia: How did he take it? What did he say? I know that’s been a worry of yours—how it would reflect on you.
Scarlett: Yes, like something was wrong with me, but I’m saying goodbye to those thoughts. And he handled it, I suppose, exactly like I’d hoped he would. Once he knew, he didn’t look at me the way Jonathan would have. He didn’t look at me like a man who wasn’t interested in his wife. He was enraged on my behalf, Nadia. It was sort of arousing and comforting at the same time.
