Scarlett

Heat flooded through me so fast it made my head spin. My hand moved before I could stop it, sliding down until my fingers brushed over the hard length. He was burning hot even through the fabric. I wrapped my palm around him, feeling just how thick and heavy he was, and gave one slow, experimental stroke.

Viktor’s breath hitched sharply. His hips jerked forward into my touch, a low, broken sound escaping his throat.

“Scarlett…” he rasped, his voice already wrecked.

I stroked him again, slower this time, squeezing just enough to feel him throb against my palm. All these while happening inside the fabric of the sweatpants....