Taming Scarlet Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Novella Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
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My head turned, my gaze pinning Julian’s.

“I want to take Stephen and his schemes down,” I declared, voice firm.

Julian looked at me for a second before a smile pulled at his lips. His arm went around my hips, pulling me close enough to press a kiss to the side of my head.

“That’s my girl.”

I could do it, too.

People underestimated me because I chose to direct my attention to things they deem superficial. Like my social media, my brand, and having fun.

But there was no denying that when I set my mind to something, I accomplished it. Straight As all through high school and college. Millions of followers. Six-figure brand deals without breaking a sweat.

I could be just as effective at chasing the snakes out of my father’s business. Out of my family legacy. Before it was too late.

“But, first, let’s go settle in,” I said, mind on getting some relief from the aching need inside from walking around with the plug in.

Julian had other things in mind, though.

I couldn’t tell if his desire to take a walk down the beach was because he wanted to torture me, or because he was genuinely excited to see the sights.

Knowing him, it was a combination of the two.

He’d been in a rush to drop off our luggage at the front of the hotel, not even going inside, not giving me a chance to climb on him in private, and get some relief.

I was trying to be patient, reminding myself that while I’d been to this area before, this was his first time. And I couldn’t rush the wonder of exploring a new location for him.

Even if desire was making a sweat break out over my skin, despite a slight chill still in the air. My nerve endings felt frazzled. And my pussy was aching with need.

“Ready to check out our room?” Julian asked, his hand rubbing my lower back.

“Yes,” I said leaning into him, not even caring if he knew how exhausting the desire was becoming.

His little laugh said he knew exactly what he was doing to me as we walked back to the hotel—a long, two-floor white stucco and glass L-shaped structure with a giant pool and beach views.

It was the nicest the area boasted, but was small by comparison to other, more luxurious hotels I’d stayed in. But you couldn’t fault them for not wanting to invest in grandeur that wouldn’t suit the majority of their clientele.

Our room was maybe the size of my bathroom at the penthouse, but updated with light wood tile floors, white paint, and a queen-sized bed covered in white linens.

But it had a sliding glass doors to a small balcony that overlooked the empty beach, the waves cresting lazily, leaving white foam in its wake.

“That’s a good fucking view,” Julian said after I opened the door, and leaned my arms on the balcony railing.

I turned my head over my shoulder, not sure if he was talking about the beach… or me.

As I looked, though, he snapped a picture.

This time, though, not with my phone. Not pictures he meant for me to post on my socials. It was his phone. A keepsake just for himself.

That strange, slivery sensation in my chest I’d been feeling more and more around him, I had a sneaking suspicion that was what falling in love might have felt like.

Experienced with keeping men at arm’s length, I couldn’t be sure.

But it felt like that.

Like my world that had always just revolved around myself started to revolve around him as well.

He tossed his phone onto the bed, then watched me as he reached to loosen his tie, then tossed it aside. His jacket followed. His belt. His shirt. But he stopped after loosening his button and zipper.

“Lift your skirt for me,” he demanded, voice rough as desire pooled in my core.

My scandalized gaze slid toward the beach, finding it empty, but knowing someone could walk down at any time.

“Lift your skirt,” he demanded, voice rougher, and my hands immediately started to rouche the fabric in my hands, exposing an inch or two of skin at a time until my panties were the only thing hiding me.

Julian moved forward, exhaling hard, then reaching to slide my panties down my legs.

“Been soaking wet all afternoon, haven’t you?” he asked, voice a low rumble.

“Yes,” I admitted. There was no use playing coy. He could press his hand between my thighs and feel for himself.

“Been hard as fuck just thinking about you walking around, aching for my cock,” he confessed, his fingers tracing down my pussy, finding my clit, and working it lazily for a moment.

His other hand moved between us, freeing himself, and then it was his thick length pressing against my clit, getting slick with my desire.

“I’m going to make your ass mine,” he said, his free hand massaging my ass cheek. “But I need your pussy first,” he added as his cock slid back, then thrust deep inside me.



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