Overflowing On His Thrust
Scarlett K
Celeste never thought her own words would make her wet.
Not like this. Not when someone else was reading them.
The first time she heard Marcus’s voice — deep, rich, with a slow grind that stretched every syllable — she was in her study, sipping wine, editing the audiobook files for her latest erotica. She remembered freezing mid-sip. The glass never made it back to her lips.
His voice didn’t just read. It possessed.
He spoke her filthiest paragraphs like they were gospel. Like he was imagining her tied up, open, begging — and he knew exactly how to deliver each breathy command.
Celeste had written over fifteen bestsellers, each one steamier than the last. She’d been praised for her control of language, her insight into desire. But with Marcus narrating her newest book?
She wasn’t in control anymore.
Not of the words.
Not of her thighs when they pressed together under the desk.
Not of the heat that slid between them.
He was supposed to be just a voice.
But the first time they met face-to-face…
Marcus looked at her like she was the story he wanted to rewrite.
And she was overflowing with ideas of what might happen… if she let him.
