Chapter 39 Scarlett

• After they were done battering Scarlet’s pussy, she couldnt fell the walls of her pussy because they had thoroughly devoured her to the last drop. She hailed a cab, sinking into the seat with a wince, her petite frame curled up as the city lights blurred past. Home was her sanctuary, or so she thought; a small apartment on the outskirts, away from the luxury of the hotel and the forbidden thrills that had consumed her.
• By the time she fumbled with her keys and pushed open the door, exhaustion weighed heavy. All she wanted to do was soak herself in a hot water bath. The place was dark, shadows pooling in the living room, but something felt off. A faint scent of expensive perfume hung in the air, sharp and floral, not hers. Scarlett flicked on the light, heart pounding. There, sitting elegantly on her worn couch, was a woman she didn't recognize. Mid-thirties, sophisticated in a black dress that hugged her curves, her dark hair poured to the side. Her eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto Scarlett like daggers.
• 'Who the hell are you? Get out of my house!' Scarlett snapped, dropping her bag, her voice trembling from fatigue and surprise. She was still in her housekeeper uniform, wrinkled and stained, red hair tousled from rough hands.