Taming Scarlet Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Novella Tags Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

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Only then did I grab the edge of the bed and pull myself up. I kicked out of my heels then made my way into the bathroom.

Only then did I see how rough I looked.

I was a deer in the headlights, eyes huge, no idea what the hell was going on.

Truly, I didn’t.

But I reached for the tissues, wiping him off of my chest. After that, I swiped the mascara ribbons off of my cheeks.

Then, finally, I turned, pulling up my skirt, and looking over my shoulder to see my ass.

And there they were.

Pink handprints on my skin.

Reaching down, I touched the skin, feeling how hot it was to the touch. Even the slightest of brushes made it smart, though.

I would be feeling it each time I sat down.

Hell, I would be feeling it each time my pants brushed against my skin.

Turning, I made my way to the bath, running the water hot, and climbing in.

For the first time in I don’t remember how long, I didn’t reach for my phone.

I didn’t read comments.

I didn’t even post all day.

And, what’s more, I didn’t want to.

Something felt fundamentally changed in me right then.

My mind was so… quiet.

I wasn’t obsessing over what people were thinking of me, saying about me. I wasn’t making mental plans for the next day, trying to figure out of something new to do, how my followers would react to seeing me there.

I was just so… calm.

Present.

And… exhausted.

God.

It was like months of crappy sleep had caught up on me all at once.

I barely took the time to scrub a fancy little soap bar all over me, then rinse, before I was climbing out of the tub, drying off, and falling into bed, bare-ass naked, and pulling the blankets up.

The movement jostled the bottle of water, and I found myself reaching for it, uncapping it, and chugging it down.

Before, finally, falling into a long, deep sleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Scarlet

My phone kept up its relentless chimes of likes, comments, and tags on the nightstand, all of it slowly dragging me toward consciousness.

“Ugh,” I grumbled at the light streaming in through the blinds, surprised when a headache didn’t immediately start stabbing me behind the eyes like it usually would.

My hand rose out of the blankets, going toward the nightstand, when something sitting there had me stopping.

A bottle of electrolyte water.

The light blue one.

Arguably, the best flavor.

But I knew for damn sure I hadn’t put it there. I didn’t even have it in the penthouse.

That meant that…

Julian.

I shot up in bed as the memories flashed across my mind.

The club.

The fucking with my guard.

Then us coming home… and him punishing me for it.

Humiliation had my cheeks flaming as I yanked my covers up to cover up my nakedness.

I’d… I’d crawled to the man.

I’d climbed on his lap and told him I deserved to be spanked.

I’d fingered myself because he told me to.

I’d… I’d sucked him off for the same reason.

My hands rose to my face as I let out a pained animal sound.

That wasn’t quite right.

He hadn’t exactly told me to suck his cock.

I’d done that.

Happily.

Greedily.

Even the memory of that had my pussy throbbing again.

What the hell was wrong with me?

How was I going to face the man again?

I climbed out of bed, walking to the bathroom, and looking at myself in the mirror.

My ass was still pink and warm to the touch.

That humiliation flared through me once again, and I watched the strange emotions play across my face.

How was I going to face him again?

With my goddamn head up.

I’d been drinking.

He’d taken advantage of that.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call it any sort of assault. I could have walked away at any time. I didn’t. But… but surely if I was sober, I never would have gotten on my knees for him, right?

I mean… clearly.

Because in the sober light of day, my cheeks went on fire each time I thought about what was said, what was done.

Obviously, clear-headed me would never.

Because of the embarrassment, though, I could never actually bring it up to him, not without him knowing he got the upper hand—ugh—on me.

So my only choice was to pretend that nothing happened.

Then, after that, I had to do what I did best.

I had to run him off.

I had to get him out of my life.

Then, I dunno, take a vacation. Get him out of my mind.

Decision made, I pulled my hair back into a claw clip, did my skincare, then walked into my closet.

If I was going to be a bitch, I needed to dress for it.

A pair of black leather pants, a lightweight black sweater tucked in to expose a gold belt buckle, and chunky heels.

Small, thick gold hoops.

A red lip.

Mascara.

There, I decided as I turned in the mirror for myself. I looked cold and unapproachable.

I grabbed my purse, tossed my phone in, then made my way out into the hallway.

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