The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton

His low laugh caressed her ear. “No.”

“Then why are you here…now.” For she truly did not understand it. “These are questions I should have asked when we first met, but I was too caught up in the excitement and impropriety of it all.”

“I am here because I had hoped that you would be.”

So simple, yet so complicated. Who was he? Anonymity was her rule, but she was desperate to know who this man in the darkness was. Lily shook away the feeling. This must only be an indulgence in pleasure and the only need she should possess. The feelings that had been burgeoning in her heart as she danced with the marquess had been too frightening. She had all but asked him to paint her in the nude. Dear God. And then in the library when he’d started painting her…oh, the swirls of wants and needs long denied had rushed through her with crippling intensity. It would be foolish to allow herself to fall for a man so above her in circumstances and expectations. She wanted to drown her thoughts under the sharp lash of pleasure this stranger had invited her to ride on a few days past.

Releasing the doubts, she glided into the room, her feet sinking into plush carpets.

“Would you like a drink? There’s wine and brandy.”

“No. I only need you.”

She barely made out the outline of the man who clasped her hips and turned her to face him. His lips touched hers with a soft, sweet possession that made her heart trembled. She parted her lips, and his tongue swept inside. He teased her with shallow strokes, before biting down on her bottom lip. She gasped at the sensuous sting, and he swallowed it, kissing her hard, wet, and deep.

The hands that peeled off her nightgown did so slowly, and then his fingers ran over her body, caressing her dips and curves with sensual dominance.

“How I wish I could see these delightful curves.” He lifted her, and a few strides later, her world shifted, then cool silken sheets met her body. As he bore her back to the bed, his lips caught hers again in a passionate kiss. He released her mouth, and firm hands pushed her knees up and then out in a lascivious sprawl.

The sudden sweet, stabbing invasion of his tongue in the tender folds of her pussy had her gasping. Somehow, he rolled with her so that she was sitting astride his face. Shock and uncertainty unbalanced her momentarily, but he gripped her hips, steadying her, and then raked his tongue over her aching clitoris.

His words came back to her. I want you to ride my tongue before taking my cock. How splendidly wicked. Lily grabbed the headboard and rolled her hips, gasping at the blast of pure pleasure that tore through her. Though it was his lips and tongue, she was in control of how sweet and how blisteringly hot the pleasure she felt could get.

Her thighs trembled, he groaned, and she undulated.

Oh, there!

He latched on to her nub and sucked. Lily screamed. Unable to help the fevered need blooming through her, she opened her thighs a little wider, arched her hips, and rode her lover’s face. His wicked tongue brought her to the edge without tipping her over. She sobbed, grinding faster on his diabolical tongue, desperate to feel that intense pleasure once more. He gripped her buttocks and positioned her slightly differently, and then drove his tongue into her.

She convulsed, ecstasy bowing her back, and she bucked against his mouth as sensations raced through her. As if he were terribly impatient for her, a few seconds later, she found herself flipped to her stomach and drawn up to her knees. She collapsed to her elbows, feeling her entire body blush at the lascivious way she was open to him. He settled behind her, his cock probing her entrance. When he pushed forward, her muscles burned at the tight impalement. A wild cry tore from her throat as, with three heavy thrusts, he buried his length deep inside of her.

“Yes,” she cried out brokenly.

She trembled on him, feeling impaled but craving more. “Oh, please,” she moaned. “Make me burn…harder.”

“Slow and easy.” His fingers tightened on her hips. His touch was warm, reassuring, and felt so right. “I want you to feel every inch of my cock stretching your tight, sweet cunt.”

Oh God, it was better than she had ever thought it could be.

His body slid into hers with sensual power as he fucked into her over and over with pure male greed and lust, drawing Lily into a maelstrom of exquisite sensations. He was not gentle. He took and took, drowning her in a sea of pleasure-pain as he rode her hard. A tight heat formed in her core, growing tauter with every lunge of his powerful body. Lily screamed into the sheets, twisting them as his hips snapped deeper, splintering the pleasure that had coiled so tightly inside of her.

Her muscles clamped down too tightly on his still thrusting cock, creating a friction that had her sobbing in his arms. He stretched her limits, her endurance, and what she thought she knew of loving. She hurt, but it was such a sweet pain, and she was so wet that smacking noises reverberated in the air, and the sound of skin sliding against damp skin filled the darkened room.

Later, she would probably look back and embarrassment would strike her, but for now, she was a creature of pure sensation, riding the dark, erotic edge of pleasure and pain as the heavy width of his cock pounded into her, pleasure obliterating all sense of decorum and any modesty she’d once possessed. A strangled cry tore from her throat as pleasure seared her body. He rode her through the storm of exquisite sensations, and then with a heavy groan, he emptied his seed deep inside her shivering body.

She collapsed, and he tumbled with her, but turned so that she was splayed on top of his muscled chest. Most of the moon had vanished behind the clouds, and a cool air wafted through the room, shifting the heavy draped.

Who are you? she desperately wanted to ask. Did his face tighten with pleasure, the corded muscles of his throat held taut when he took his release? What did her lover’s eyes look like when he released his seed into her body? What color were his eyes…the shape of his lips? When she felt his smile against her hair…what did it look like? Were they firm…sensually cruel or sweet and boyish? Lifting her hands, she allowed her fingers to ghost over his lips. The filthy, erotic words he had used to rouse the wanton creature in her, and the way he had licked her pussy and pushed her to climax with such delight said these lips were sensually cruel.

Was he Lord Bolton, Mr. Darwhimple, Viscount Milton…? Perhaps Lord Ambrose?

Her heart kicked as images of the marquess filled her thoughts. He had been so dark and dashingly elegant as he twirled her around the ballroom tonight. All the young ladies had glared at her with envy and disbelief…and the marchioness had been unable to mask her disapproval. Lily would face an inquiry in the morning, and she would have to reassure Lady Ambrose her son had only been kind.

Or was her lover Mr. Braddock or Viscount Hardwick?

A knot of emotion clogged her throat. How could two people be so soul-shatteringly intimate, yet might pass in the corridor a few hours from now and not know each other? She fought the need to curl into his arms. Lily was falling in too deep with a stranger. A ridiculous notion, but what else could account for the needs awakening in her soul?

Her lover smoothed his hand over the globes of her buttocks, up to the curves of her stomach.