Chapter 8 #2
“Fuck me, Alexei,” she pleads with a flirtatious batting of her ridiculous eyelashes.
My cock stirs, dripping pre-cum and ruining my pants in a way I would’ve hated before.
Now, it’s almost a pleasure. Getting dirty for Scarlett.
Misbehaving for Scarlett. Doing filthy, disgusting things for Scarlett is apparently a kink of mine.
I shared her with Widow. We were touching quite intimately. Ash’s mouth was on me. His tongue. His saliva.
I shake my head to knock the horror of other people touching me loose. In order to be close to Scarlett, I need to be close to the other boys. If she finds them worthy of her time, then they’re worthy of my time, too.
“I allowed Ash to suck my dick, just to keep him safe for you.” I sound highbrow and arrogant. Perhaps a little pouty, too. Scarlett loves it, rocking her hips against my knuckles and moaning. “And Alexei is the most intimate name you can think to call me? I explained what rodnaya means, didn’t I?”
Scarlett rolls her eyes—one of my favorite expressions on her lovely face—and slides her fingers along the back of my neck, teasing my hair. Touching me. Contaminating me. And I don’t even care. Not when it’s her.
“You want a cutesy pet name? How about…please have sexual intercourse with me, my legally wedded rich boy with no prenup?” she teases, flashing a wink and a lascivious little tongue flick at the corner of her lips.
I start to withdraw my hand and she clamps hers even harder around my wrist.
“The whole of Prescott High is calling me a gold digger’s dream.
Yet another indignity I must put up with on your behalf.
” I shove three fingers in and stretch her, forcing Scarlett up to her toes with a gasp.
She releases my wrist to brace herself with a hand on my shoulder, fisting some of my hair with the other. “One last try or I’m excusing myself—”
“Husband, fuck. Good enough for ya?” she asks, breathless but desperately trying to be cocky.
A slow, menacing smile spreads across my lips as I widen my fingers and watch the play of emotions on her face.
She’s a good actress, Mrs. Borisov is, but she struggles to hold it together when she’s being fucked.
That’s how I know she means it, how sex is tied up with emotion and belonging for her even if she wishes it wasn’t.
“For now.” I use my free hand to drag her sleeping shirt over her head, tossing it aside with a slight grimace.
Dirty laundry on the floor bothers me immensely.
I want to see all of her though. I want a front-row seat to Scarlett’s pussy leaving a glistening wetness on my black gloves. I have to see it.
I lift her up to sit on the desk and, without removing my fingers, manage to drag the panties down and off. We’re still looking at each other, studying and cataloguing. We can both read people. It’s why I’ve always hated most everyone.
It’s why I’ve fallen in love with this woman.
I take Scarlett’s right foot and set it on the desk, bending her knee and spreading her thighs at the same time.
She spreads the other open for me, leaning back on her palms and staring shamelessly back at me.
My most recent memory of this room will not hold my father’s death, but this woman offering herself to me.
I bite my lip and hiss through my teeth, plunging my fingers deep and causing Scarlett to tilt her head back. Sunlight streams through the window, falling across my fingers shoved deep in that wet heat. I want to taste her.
Fuck, I could have my mouth on that.
“Look at you, Husband,” she whispers, closing her eyes and stealing some of my thunder. “Disturbed by the world but entranced by me—the filthiest thing there is. Germaphobe hypocrite.”
I tug my fingers out of her and Scarlett’s eyes widen, her chin dropping. I’m on my knees and dragging her to the edge of the desk before she can fully process my intent. There we go. I find my thunder between her thighs—with my mouth. My mouth on that naughty pussy.
My gloved hands grip Scarlett’s hips, fingers digging into the sweet flesh of her generous curves.
I flick my eyes up. She’s staring down at me panting, her body curled slightly forward, fingers clutching the edge of the desk. Long, dark hair falls in a messy curtain around me. I can smell Scarlett, and I breathe her in like oxygen. Shampoo and something more feral. Feminine. Untamed.
The taste of her is on my tongue and my entire body rebels against me. Goose bumps. Shaking. Cyclical thoughts about my contaminated face. I almost cum in my pants, squeezing her hard enough with my fingers that she lets out a small sound.
“Oh, fuck.” Scarlett curls over me like a gargoyle, gripping my hair and squeezing my head between her thighs.
Crushing me. I’m drowning in her heat and her scent.
I could clean my own cum out of her with my tongue.
The revelation is like a shock to my system, so disturbed and deranged that I nearly blow my load again.
I slide my fingers into Scarlett’s contracting body, just two this time so I can move fast. It takes more effort, the force of her left thigh fighting with my arm for control. She’s trying to lock her legs around me to stop me from moving my hand. Not a chance in hell.
“I came in here to make you cum,” she moans, digging her pretty nails into my hair. She keeps two of them short, so that she can fuck herself with her own hand. I wish I’d have known that before she had her manicure, so I could’ve told her not to bother. That’s not her job anymore: it’s mine.
I’m teasing her clit with my tongue at the same time I’m fucking with my fingers. Watching her. Debasing myself. Getting dirty. Ruining myself. Black latex gloved fingers driving into a tight, greedy little hole. My saliva, dripping down and mixing with the wetness of that horny pussy.
I’m going to ruin these pants.
I cum. Hard. Groaning and thrusting my hips against nothing but my own clothing. My fingers mimic the motion of my hips, like I’m inside of Scarlett. My face is wet. My tongue is ruined. My desires are expanding.
“You…you came?” Scarlett chokes out, and then she falls back on the desk.
All of that black silky hair slides over me, stroking the bare skin of my wrists, between my gloves and the ends of my jacket sleeves.
Her back arches like she’s possessed and she wrenches down so hard on my fingers that I can imagine my bones breaking.
I’m so exquisitely fucked-up that I think I’d like that, too.
Everything. More. I would fall into depravity’s arms if depravity looked like Scarlett Force.
She orgasms, kicking her feet and thrashing like she doesn’t want it when we both know it’s all that she wants right now.
Leaning forward, quivering from my own finish, I spit on her pussy for extra lube and something about that abject filth does it for her.
Scarlett orgasms so hard that it takes all my strength to draw out of her and then thrust in one more time, claiming my spot inside her pulsing muscles.
I fall back on my ass, my fingers slipping out of her with one, final obscene sound. I hit the floor, knees up and legs splayed, staring at the shimmery liquid on my glove. It’s quiet for a minute there, but then Scarlett sits up and I catch her gaze, sliding my fingers into my mouth.
Sucking them clean.
“I have vastly underestimated you,” she pants out, eyes a little too wide.
Scarlett tosses some of that glossy hair in a way that makes absolutely every part of me ache.
Wife. I do believe I might be in shock. “Though I shouldn’t have, considering you popped your own cherry in public.
” Scarlett grins at me, and she’s so wonderfully pleasant even after we’re dirty together.
Somehow that makes the filthy feel clean.
“It’s not that I’m a hypocrite,” I reply, running my gloved hand over my nasty mouth. “It’s that you don’t feel dirty or filthy to me, so I have no reason to avoid you.”
I rise from the floor with an effortlessness that makes Scarlett smile a little strangely. I take off one glove and then the other, holding them in a single hand. I will be burning these. I don’t want anyone outside this household to have access to something that touched my wife’s pussy.
If I saw someone else touch these gloves, I might kill them.
Papa always warned me to stay away from the family. “If you get close to them, they’ll make you question yourself. You think you’ll do anything for power. And once you start realizing how you can have it, it’s impossible to resist.”
No. No. Scarlett is right: the more bodies we make, the harder it becomes to untangle ourselves from this riffraff. Yes, I could compete with men like this, but who would want to?
“That’s…one of the nicest things I’ve ever heard in my life.
Damn. Wow. Okay.” Scarlett laughs and rakes her fingers through her mussy hair, staring at the new painting on the wall.
I wonder if there’s a bullet hole underneath that or if someone filled it in to hide the evidence?
They must have. “You know, I never thought I’d clean for a man.
Never. Ever.” She shudders, much the same as I do when I’m disturbed by something foul.
“I must see you as more than one or else I wouldn’t have done it. ”
“Now that may be the sweetest thing one lover has ever said to another.” I feel my mouth shift into a knowing sort of smile. “You knew that I was watching you clean this office on your hands and knees for me?”
Scarlett shrugs back into her shirt, the fabric pooled around her hips to hide her swollen sex. Having an orgasm only made it look more enticing. Plumper. Needier. I shove my hand against my face, pushing my fingers against my skin to clear the obsession.
Her turn to smile knowingly.