33. Scarlett
Scarlett
Morgan opens the door to the hotel room, and I am immediately drawn to the balcony. I can see the colors of the sunset fading against the horizon. And I know that in just a few moments, it will all be dark.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him as I take a panoramic photo. “It’s not for social media. It’s for me. I’m a sucker for sunsets.”
“You know what I’m a sucker for?” he asks, pulling me against him. “You,” he says, and he presses his lips to mine.
I kiss him back before smiling into his lips and pulling away just enough to gaze up at him. “Mr. Bale, if I didn’t even know better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me.”
“Don’t call me that,” he says and my mouth parts in surprise.
“You’ve told me twice that I am supposed to call you that,” I tell him.
“Yeah well, things have changed,” he says while burying his face in my neck and leaving a trail of kisses behind my ear.
“Oh, have they?” I giggle.
“Yep. Consider it a promotion of sorts,” he says.
“What kind of promotion?” I ask, even though it’s getting hard to focus on words right now considering what he’s doing to my neck.
“The kind where you’re not just an employee,” he says.
“I certainly hope not,” I tell him. “Last I checked, I’m your fiancée too.”
Morgan pulls away and looks down at me, running his thumb down my jawline and over my lips. “No,” he says. “You’re my girlfriend.”
His statement is confusing. Is he saying I’m his girlfriend in real life? He kisses me again instead of elaborating any further. And considering how entrancing this man’s kisses are, I forget about the labels and technicalities. For now, anyways.
We kiss until the orange in the sky fades to a dark indigo. We kiss until the air shifts from warm and wet to an almost chill. We kiss until the wisps of clouds fade into stars and moonlight, and the only sound comes from the crashing waves on the shore.
Morgan hooks his thumbs under the straps of my dress and tugs it down over my hips until it spills into a pile on the balcony floor around my feet. And that’s when I remember: we may be alone, but we are outside.
“God you’re beautiful,” he tells me as his hands run down over my curves, which are covered in nothing but a white lace panty and bra set.
“Do you think we should go inside?” I ask but Morgan seems unphased. Instead of answering the question, he drops to his knees in front of me, kissing my stomach, my hips, and everywhere in between.
“Why?” he asks.
“Because other people can probably see us,” I say.
“We are forty floors in the air, sweetheart. I don’t think anyone can see us,” he insists.
“Okay, but like…what about the people on the beach? What about the people in the rooms next to us?” I ask, squirming against his tongue on my hipbones. It both tickles and turns me on, and the contrast is excruciating.
“You need to forget about other people,” he tells me.
“Sorry, it’s just, it’s kind of hard when we are literally standing here out in the ohhh…
” my words fade into a moan as his mouth covers my pussy.
Despite the fact that there’s lace between his tongue and my skin, it doesn’t matter.
It’s enough to make my knees shake and my hands clasp his shoulders.
Morgan chuckles against me. “Good girl,” he says. Then he tugs the fabric aside and starts licking the length of me, paying special attention to my clit. I moan again. “You think if I keep doing that you will forget about people watching?” he asks.
“I think if you keep doing that I will forget my own name,” I tell him, and Morgan growls before standing up and picking me up with him.
My first thought is, oh good, we’re going back inside.
Except that he doesn’t take me back inside. He lays me down on the lounge chair and crawls on top of me. I guess we are doing this. Here. On a balcony.
“Morgan,” I giggle as he kisses me again and then proceeds to pepper me with more kisses, leaving a constellation down my body until he reaches my pussy again.
“Yes?” he asks.
“Are you going to fuck me outside?” I ask.
“No,” he says, his mouth close enough to my pussy that I can feel the heat of his words against the expectant skin. “I am going to make love to you under the stars,” he says and my heart slams into my chest.
Because those words are my words. Words from my bucket list notebook.
But before I can overthink it (or think about it at all), his mouth covers me again and his tongue gets to work teasing my clit until I am grinding against the lounge chair.
My knees fall open and he uses another finger to hold my panties at bay, though I can tell he is getting frustrated with them.
Finally, he grabs them by the top seam and rips them down the center, exposing me completely, giving him full access to me and trashing a pair of panties in the process.
But again, I don’t have time to think before his tongue finds me again; the tip flicking mercilessly at my clit until a heat brighter and hotter than the deep orange sunset rises into my thighs and explodes into a mind-blowing orgasm.
Mind-blowing enough that I do, in fact, forget where we are and even, for a moment, who I am.
I whimper out a contented sigh at the end of the orgasm and Morgan kisses me softly.
“That was amazing,” I tell him, my words lazy from recovery.
“Oh honey, we aren’t finished,” he says and I giggle.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I say, and Morgan stares down at me for a moment before a slow smirk crosses his lips.
“You want to try something different?” he asks.
“Something different?” I echo.
With that, he stands and strips down. Then he picks me up, and I swear I will never get used to how easily he can do it. He turns around and lies down on his back with me straddling him.
“Oh,” I say with a smirk to match his. “You want me on top…”
“Oh, if you wa–oh fuck!” Morgan lets out because before he is able to finish the sentence, I lower myself onto his erect cock.
“You’re right,” I say as I rise and fall slowly, gliding over the length of him while biting my lip. “This was a very good idea.”
“Goddamn, baby girl,” Morgan grits out while gripping my thighs in his hands. “You feel so fucking unreal.”
“So do you,” I say as I pick up to a steady rhythm.
And as we flow together, Morgan stares up at me, and I meet his gaze.
And it suddenly occurs to me that I’ve never had sex in this position before.
Not with the lights on. Okay, well there’s no lights per se.
But the moon is bright enough that we can see each other.
The point is, this is a position that would normally make me feel very self-conscious.
And yet, with Morgan, I don’t feel even a hint of that.
I haven’t since day one. Since the night at the Sapphire…
“Forgive me,” he says and I snap out of the memory.
“For?” I ask.
“I could do this all night. I’d love to do this right here all night. But I need…you,” he says, and with that, we both pick up the pace, me grinding my body down against him and his hips matching the movement.
Both of us moan loudly enough that I am certain that if anyone is around, they can hear everything. And to be quite honest, I really don’t give a damn.
I moan again, this time more desperately, and as my pussy tightens around the girth of his cock and he thrusts harder and deeper with every drive, I bite my lips to hold back the scream that I know is coming.
Because this angle, and the idea of what we are doing and where we are doing it is so hot, so pleasurable, so erotic that I know I am going to lose all control. All composure. And I do.
“Oh god…” I let out, and Morgan moans too as the flood washes over us with more force than the Atlantic waves on the shore below us.
We are left panting, sweating, and holding each other. Morgan sits up with me in his lap, and our eyes meet again, dark yet bright, calm yet wild. And without a single word (because there is no need) he kisses me again. Long, slow and deep. And in my mind, I cross off another bucket list item.
Have sex under the stars.