Roofers.

44. Pretty peach straps

Scarlett POV.

(Warning: scene includes butt stuff, if you aren't into that, skip ahead.)

I chocked on my saliva. My eyes grew wide, bulging out of their sockets. My heart ran on rocket fuel, and my lungs collapsed like an abandoned building. My face was burning, the blood rushing to my cheeks had become molten lava, as a familiar tingle flooded into the pit of my stomach.

"You're serious..." I whispered.

"I mean... yeah? " He questioned. He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks filling with a blush the colour of roses. His eyebrows had knotted up, his lip buried itself between his teeth. He looked at me with dream-filled eyes, a lazy smirk playing on his face like an anxious child. But as instantaneously as his sweet expression made home on his face, he got nervous again. "... Or just forget that I said that. Ever."

"I don't wanna forget." I smirked. Leaning into him, my lips hovered over his ear. He shivered. His hands gripped tighter into me. In my head, this moment contained a bucket load of convincing, but with him it was different. He was just as full of raw fuckery as I was, and I adored it. "You have no idea how much I want to do that to you," I whispered.

"You do?" He whimpered, breath beginning to sputter and crack until broken. He pushed his hips up into me, excitement flourishing as his hands travelled my body. The rosy blush spread to his chest as his eyes filled with that arousal again. He looked ravenously hungry yet delicate, naively breakable and obliviously lost. The sadistic side of me liked that; she yearned to see him broken, clinging to my body as words failed to leave his lips, until the only thing I could hear was the sound of his sweet, incoherent mumbling and moaning and squealing and screaming. I shivered at the thought.

"I do," I purred, my fingers squared onto his jaw watching as his eyes clouded with his space. My thumb grazed over the cushion of his lips, cascading over them and into his mouth. He bit down onto my finger, not painfully but enough to draw me closer. "You're sure about this?" I asked.

He nodded. I smiled.

"Okay," I bit into my lip and got off of him. "Wait here," I told him as I searched through my drawers. The optimist in me made sure to keep a strap-on and a clear unmarked bottle of lube in my last drawer. 

I grabbed it, getting off of the bed to head over to my closet that had been renovated to put Ronan's things into it. 

I got dressed, putting on my favourite red laced two-piece and the pretty peach coloured strap over the panties. 

I pulled my braids behind my head into a tight knot and when I was done I stared at myself in the mirror. A grin slid onto my face and I felt the excitement seep into my fingertips like honey.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found Jules sitting at the foot of the bed. On his knees, legs apart, head down with his arms behind his back. He wore nothing but his sweatpants. From here I could see as the sweat formed a thin sheen over his skin, I could hear as his breathing waver and tremble with want. I leaned against the doorpost. I could watch him like this for an eternity.

"Look at me, sweetheart," I asked him. He did as I asked, without an inch of hesitation. His eyes devoured every inch of my skin and then stalled at the sight of the strap-on. He bit his lip, so deep in his space that he didn't feel shame. He wanted me. And the look on his face made me sure of that.

"Is... is that new?" He asked me.

"Yeah," I smiled as I pushed off of the door and made my way to him. "Do you like it, baby boy?"