The Scandalous Diary of Lily Layton

She began to move her mouth on the throbbing flesh, her tongue flickering over it, killing him with pleasure.

“That’s it, Lily. Suck me deep just like that.” He thrust his fingers into her hair, using his grip to anchor her as he slowly worked his prick in and out of her mouth. She stared up at him, her eyes dark pools of lust…and something far warmer than he’d anticipated.

I like you…so damn much, Lily.

He flexed his hips, pushing his flesh farther into her mouth.

She moaned around his throbbing length, a whimpering, needy sound that made his body flame. He was too close to the edge, and he wanted so much for a quick release into the silken depths of her hot little mouth. His cock sprang free from her mouth, heavy and engorged. Oliver tugged her up, and as she rose, she lightly licked his thighs and up over his rippling abdomen. His hands tightened in her hair, and a rough groan broke from his throat. He arched her, pushing her breasts up to his face. Her nipples were tight rosy buds he sucked into his mouth.

Impatience tore at him, and he walked her back toward his desk, easing her down onto the surface, and splayed her wide.

Her cunt was so pretty and pink, wet with her need for him.

“Oliver,” she moaned, her thighs opening wider, her hips arching to him. “I need…I need you in me.”

He tucked the head of his cock into the narrow, clenching entrance to her pussy. She cried out as he stroked inside her tight sheath, deep and hard. “Watch me take you,” he murmured, glancing between their bodies as he slowly withdrew from her snug depth.

She stared up at him, her eyes dazed, unfocused, her face flushed with passion, then glanced to where they were joined. Her entire body colored red, and her tongue darted to wet those pouting lips.

Oliver groaned at the carnal picture she presented sprawled wide on his desk, her cunt stretched to take his thick length, her hair tumbling across her body and brushing her distended nipples, and those sweet, swollen lips glistening.

He slid inside her, working his length slowly and easily into her so that she felt every drag of his cock against the tightness of her slit. He pulled back, watching his cock slide nearly free of her, then worked himself back to the hilt, loving the tight grip.

She whimpered, a low, desperate sound that had his cock jerking in response.

“Oliver.”

“Lily.”

Then incredibly she smiled, and he understood. It felt different, better, hotter, yet so much sweeter now they had knowledge of each other. Her tongue darted and wetted her lips once again. With a groan, he thrust deep, spearing into her, feeling her pussy part to envelop him in pure bliss. “Yesss,” he hissed in pleasure. “Wrap your legs around my hips.”

She complied, and he lifted her from the hard desk, and with a few steps, he took them to the sofa closest to the blazing fire. He braced her against the padded arm of the couch, lifted her leg, and rocked harder and heavier inside the sensitive depths of her pussy, over and over and over.

She convulsed on his cock several times, screaming her delight, and Oliver wasn’t remotely satisfied. Perspiration gleamed on their bodies as he allowed himself to be swept under the dark tide of lust, fucking her long and hard, secure in the knowledge that she matched his passions perfectly.

Chapter Twelve

“Checkmate,” Lily said with a grin, peeking up at Oliver from beneath her lashes. She still wanted to pinch herself, to know they were sprawled atop a large blanket spread on his library floor, playing chess and sipping brandies, naked. It was horribly wicked of her, and she loved every minute. She felt no shame in being so bare before him, and he seemed equally amused and captivated whenever he caught her staring at his muscled form. Their clothes and unmentionable garments remained scattered on the floor, and her marquess had taken several cushions from the chaise and littered the floor with them.

He knew she was his mysterious lover and there had been no condemnation. In fact, Lily believed he was quite relieved to discover Mrs. Lily Layton and the provocative Dahlia were the same. That knowledge was distressingly fascinating. He had made no mention of courtship, which tempered her intrigue, considering it was the reason he had proffered for wanting her identity. Not that she would have said yes—he deserved better—but it would have been so wonderful to know he would still want her, without a dowry and connections.

How long did they really have as lovers? The marchioness’s new lady’s companion would arrive at Belgrave Manor in two weeks’ time. Then Lily would take herself off to town to start the wonderful journey of opening her own business. Would the marquess wish to continue their affair?

“You are a very crafty player,” he said with a smile, finally ending his analysis of the board.

“That I am, my lord.”

“Who taught you?”

“My papa did. He was delighted when I showed interest at a young age. I felt like I had given him a great gift because I was smart. It was as I grew older that I realized how very different and wonderful Papa is. He encouraged my learning and did not believe certain pursuits were reserved for the men of our society.”

He reached for the tumbler and refilled their glasses. “He sounds like a good man.”

Lily felt as if she were floating but did not protest, taking another healthy swallow of the amber liquid.

“Easy,” he cautioned.

“Who taught you?”