Page 93 of Booked on You
Iwake to Scarlett’s head resting against my chest, her hair a messy cascade over my shoulder.
I take a moment to look at her, admiring how perfectly she fits against me. I brush a strand of hair from her face, and her eyes blink open, heavy with sleep. She gazes up at me, lips curving into a drowsy smile.
“Mornin’,” I say, my voice still raspy.
She stretches lazily against me, her body pressed close enough to send sparks through my bloodstream all over again.
“Good morning.” Scarlett squeezes her thighs together. “I feel where you were last night.”
I chuckle and lean over to kiss her. “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t be.” Scarlett’s lips part immediately beneath mine, and it deepens into something else. “I want to cash in my final O-coin.”
“Right now?” I ask, already hard for her. Truthfully, when am I not?
She laughs, shifting herself above me, her knees on either side of my hips, and she carefully takes her time, sliding down onto my cock. She adjusts as needed, her breaths growing ragged. I stretch her wide, molding her body just for me. Whenour ends meet, she trembles and takes a second to recompose herself, but I see the way her heartbeat ticks rapidly in her neck.
“It feels like you’re going to rip me in half,” she says breathlessly.
“Go slow, sweetheart. We’re in no rush.” My thumbs press into her hip bones as she slowly rocks against me.
“You’re the best part of my day, Ezra,” she confesses, leaning forward, her hair falling around us. Scarlett’s fingers rest against my cheek as she kisses me, and I get lost in her. Her wet pussy glides up and down my length, and it feels so damn amazing, I almost convince myself I’m dreaming.
“We’re meant to be, babe,” I whisper, as she increases her pace.
“I believe that,” she says.
The early morning sunlight filters through the curtains, drawing patterns across the tangled sheets. Whimpers release from her as she takes complete control, going from my tip to the base. It’s agonizingly incredible.
Just as the orgasm threatens to take us both under, a voice floats through the house.
“Ezra? Honey, you awake?”
I freeze, my eyes bolting open. Scarlett pulls back immediately, panic flickering in her gaze. “Who is that?”
“Millie.”
Scarlett’s mouth falls open. “Your aunt?”
“Yes, shit, I’m so sorry,” I say as Scarlett scrambles off me. My cock is raging hard as I move out of bed.
Scarlett’s eyes go comically wide. “Do you think she’ll come up here?”
“Maybe,” I tell her, grabbing a pair of joggers and sliding them up my legs. I pull a T-shirt out, too. “I don’t want to find out.”
“Me either!” Scarlett looks panicked. “First impressions are important.”
“Ezra?” Millie’s voice echoes louder from downstairs. “I brought sausage bread! Willow is starving!”
Scarlett lifts a brow, fighting back a laugh. “She brings you breakfast. That’s sweet of her.”
“Food is her love language, but I think she’s just being nosy,” I say, tossing Scarlett a pair of shorts with a drawstring and a faded T-shirt from Paris Pottery. “Put these on.”
Scarlett does what I say, and I can’t help but laugh because they’re too big.
“I’m keeping this shirt,” she tells me, adjusting the band of the shorts.
“You can have whatever you want, sweetheart.”
