29. Scarlet

TWENTY-NINE

SCARLET

My arms are fully extended in front of me, my nails digging into the corner of the mattress, threatening to pull the sheet up. Beneath me, my breasts sway and jiggle with the aftershock of each powerful thrust. I'm stretched out on my knees, back sloping upward to where my hips are raised and Remington's fingers are gripping me, pulling me back to meet each drive of his cock into my pussy.

My skin is slick with sweat. The perfume of sex heavy in the air. I'm flooded with the sounds of our bodies clapping together, his grunts and groans sharply punctuating my long cries and pitchy moans. Pleading words for more, harder, faster. On my tongue, I can still taste the faint trace of his cum and mine from where he ate me out after last filling me, the two of us salty and sweet. And before me, the standing mirror providing an unobstructed view of my fiancé as he takes me.

Remington's reflection looks beautifully primal. Broad shoulders and sculpted chest giving way to meticulously defined and cut abs. Thighs thick and powerful. Veins exquisitely enlarged as they snake down his forearms. His skin flushed and full lips parted as he breathes through his exertion. Sweat rolling down his neck, begging to be licked. The green of his hazel eyes so bright their color nearly eclipses everything else. And with everything there is to see, touch, taste along my body and his, he keeps his gaze locked with mine, leaving me swimming in the heady sensation of his love.

I'm not sure if I say it out loud or if he reads it off my face, but the moment the words flutter through my head, he's leaning over me, hand snaking around and up my body to grasp my throat. His hold is secure, just enough pressure to remind me he's there but ultimately leaving the choice to submit and follow up to me. And as he guides me up by pressing at my pulse, I do, his lips hot at my ear as he says, "I love you too, Scarlet," the rough, gravelly texture of his voice sending shivers down my spine.

Repositioned in a way where I'm now in his lap and he's fucking up into me, hand still at my throat, he croons, "Your pussy looks so pretty taking Daddy's cock," kissing the side of my face.

All I can do in response is whimper, my mind void of anything but the need for more. More of his lips, his touch, his cock. He's right; it is pretty, hypnotic even. Thick and veiny, hard yet soft, his balls heavy and prominent, all of him wet and glistening with the ownership of my arousal.

Nodding my head, I turn and kiss him. It's off center and unskilled, but always so patient with me, Remington slowly and gently guides me through.

Pulling free with a high pitched keen as his fingers begin rubbing and tapping my clit, I grip the outside of his thigh, nails trying to tear through his muscle.

"Daddy," I hiss or possibly wail, everything turning distorted as all of my attention and concentration zero back in on where he's touching me, filling me.

With his dick having been mercilessly fucking my cunt, coaxing me closer and closer to the euphoric abyss, the added stimulation hurtles me right to the edge. Around his shaft, my walls constrict and release, eager for just a bit more so I can pull forth his cum with my own.

"That's right, baby girl. Have your tight little cunt strangle my dick. Steal my cum from me; it's all yours."

Lifting on my knees I begin to bounce on him. I meet each of his thrusts so he's pushed deeper inside me, harder. Deep enough that his head kisses my cervix in sweet, pleasurable pain. It's sharp and intense and, while I can only manage it for so long, I love it and crave it.

Letting my head lull back on his shoulder as he lets me go to palm my breast and tweak my nipple, I reach around his neck to thread my fingers through his hair and give myself over to his touch. It's when I let go, let him have me and use me, that my body shatters into a thousand pieces for him.

Lips parted on a silent scream. Eyes screwed up tight as stars fill my vision. My fingers having found and laced with his. Breath short, gasping, and heaving. And my pussy fluttering uncontrollably as his cock continues to slide in and out of me, my clit swollen and throbbing as it further distends with my release, my thighs and his wet from my orgasm.

I've hardly begun to come down before I'm flipped on my back and yanked to the edge of the bed. With a quick thrust, Remington is back inside me. The return of his intrusion to my sensitive flesh makes me cry out as I already feel another orgasm coming on. Crossing my ankles, he props them on his shoulder, keeping himself partially trapped inside me as he begins to pound into me, his movements fast and just deep enough to stroke my g-spot with each thrust.

"Such a good girl," he praises hoarsley. "Stay right there on the edge for me. I want another one from you before I come. Can you do that for me, baby?"

"Yes, yes, yes," I breathlessly chant in answer, the waves of my first having not yet receded as they begin to grow.

After spending more of the day fucking and playing than not, and it coming on the heels of spending the previous night making love until the early hours of the morning, I'm surprised I can still come. That he can. That either of us still have the stamina to keep up with the other. But like an addiction, it's an endless well. The more we have, the more we want. One hit leading into the next and the next, until we're blissfully drunk on endorphins and oxytocin.

But I can, and when Remington pinches my clit, I do, a scream tearing through me as I'm tackled by my orgasm and left sobbing from its brutal intensity, his body riding mine out as he thrusts through my convulsions until his cum erupts inside me, hot and sticky and mine.

Kissing my ankle as he slowly pulls out and lowers my legs, he comes to hover over me, his lips leaving featherlight whispers of affection along my brow, cheeks, and jaw until his mouth is at my neck, tongue licking at my sweat. Languidly I reach out for him, my arms heavy as I wrap them around his waist and trail my fingers along his spine.

Bringing his lips to mine, he kisses me softly, sweetly, gently, sighing as he just barely pulls away, his forehead coming to rest on mine.

"Thank you, Scar."

Scratching my nails through his hair, his head turning this way and that to chase my touch, I murmur, "For what?"

Mapping his fingers along my face and down the side of my neck as if he's trying to memorize me, he answers, "For being you… accepting me… loving me… for never turning me away whenever I reach for you…"

"Remi—"

"No, wait, listen," he quickly interrupts, cupping my face. "Touch in a relationship is very important to me. I need it in order to feel connected to my partner, to feel her love. And I just want to tell you that I appreciate how welcoming you are of me and how you treat my needs not as an afterthought or a chore for you but a priority. So, thank you."

"You make loving you far too easy, Remi."

"As do you, Scar," he murmurs, kissing me once more. Then standing up, he takes my hand in his and hauls me off the bed, saying, "Come on, let's go try out that overpriced tub I have."

"Oh I already have and it's nice. Worth every penny you spent," I giggle, as he throws me over his shoulder, lightly swatting my butt.

Depositing me in the bathroom, he says, "Then you can get us set up. I'm going to go get the baby. I think I hear her starting to whine at the stairs. How much do you think it would cost to have them remodeled so they're no longer slatted?"

Shrugging as I start fussing with the knob, I answer, "I don't know; I'm in charge of decorating."

"Doesn't matter. If she won't use the current ones, I'll have ‘em renovated after we leave."

Sitting on the edge, I pout, "I can't believe we have to go back already."

"We still have about three weeks and don't worry, baby girl," he says, coming back for me and kissing my forehead. "I'll bring you back whenever you want.

"Besides, the sooner we return to Nashville, the sooner I can have Donny start adding you to the deed here, get you on my titles, accounts, portfolio, life insurance, and whatever else I have. I'm already having him put your name on the drafts for the Brentwood house, so I figure may as well get it all done at once."

"Remi!" I shout as he walks away. "Remington!

"Ugh! He cannot be serious."

"Oh, I am! What's mine is yours!" he calls, proving he's just been ignoring me. "If you don't believe me, check that ring on your finger!"