Page 44 of Mr. Red

His hand moves from my shoulder to my hair. He gives a slight pull and now my back is arched. He pulls my hair to the side so I have to turn my head to face him, and gives me a rough kiss. I’m consumed with his kiss. Kissing him is sensual, with just a bit of tongue and somehow the perfect amount of pressure. The kiss makes me forget about the delicate chair breaking; all I want is to be right here, right now. I let go and come on his dick.

He slows down after I’ve stopped convulsing, pulling out to his tip and then thrusting in hard. Every sensation feels intensified when he’s going slow.

His mouth comes to my neck as he keeps hold of my hair, gripping lightly. His other hand grabs my breast, and he starts teasing my nipple. I take in every moment, loving how easy it is with him.

He moves his hand from my breast to my clit, picking up the pace. Feeling my legs spread out, his hand and dick in between them, along with the pounding of his balls makes me break out into another orgasm.

“Good girl,” he says in his deep voice, and slaps my ass again after removing his hand from my clit.

He pumps quicker for a minute until he releases. Thenhe collapses over me. The chair creaks like the legs will give out at any time. We stay there for a moment, catching our breaths, the chair is still standing somehow.

“You, okay?” he asks after I stop convulsing.

“Yeah, I’m good. Really good!”

I need a minute. My body is floating somewhere in the sky, basically mush. I stay over the chair, his shirt sticking to me from the perspiration.

He lays over me, kissing my neck. “I like you in my clothes.”

He slaps my ass, pulls away and goes to the bathroom. “Come shower with me when you’re ready. We’re going to need to do that again in a minute. I need to make up for all the times I lost.”

I lift my upper body off the chair and turn to him. “Already?”

His chuckle sounds over the shower running. I guess I’ll be busy this morning.

Chapter 26

Scarlett

After a shower together, we’re in the kitchen. I’m making some eggs and breakfast potatoes while drinking some coffee. Matt is sitting on a barstool at the bar top watching me.

“I don’t have meat, but I have facon,” I say, holding up the box with a cheesy smile on my face.

“You know I’m from Texas, right?” He stares, unimpressed. “It’s a land far away where meat is allowed and considered tasty.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Texas. I didn’t know you’d be here, so your options are fake meat or nothing.” I turn the potatoes.

“You fixing to make toast?”

“I think I have some whole grain.”

“Oh cool, cardboard and eggs. Don’t you like food when itactuallytastes good? Maybe we should’ve gone out for breakfast.” He mutters the last part.

“I didn’t think you would be so picky. Here I was thinking a nice homemade breakfast would be nice,” I tell him.

“You’re cute when you’re being feisty.” He lifts one side of his mouth. “I’m just saying, I enjoy food.Actualfood. Not whatever is in facon.”

“Are you a foodie? My friend Lana loves food too. Theonly time food tastes good is when she’s around. I just make food because a girl’s gotta eat.”

“Can’t you eat for caloriesandtaste?”

“Sure. I don’t have the patience for that, though. If you want to cook, then by all means, go ahead.” I wave my spatula over to the stove.

“I will next time.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

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