“Ah my sweet, I haven’t even begun to shock your sensibilities.”
Still holding her gaze, he tapped her lips with one of his fingers. She parted them, and he slipped the digit in her mouth. And she instinctively sucked. He pulled it from her mouth, and his hands lowered to her splayed legs and the open slit of her drawers. She was afraid to move her eyes from his. Instead, she gripped the edge of the bed, bunching the sheets between her fingers.
His fingertips brushed—lightly, gently—along her exposed sex. Her awareness narrowed to that sweet, pulsing pleasure between her thighs. “I like the forbidden nature of speaking…filthy things to you.”
Oh, sweet heaven above.
He traced the folds of her cleft, and she trembled as he used a single finger to part swollen flesh. Heat flooded her cheeks as her gaze flew back to his face.
His lips curved in a cruel, sensual slant. "Look down."
Primrose trembled and lowered her eyes. He split her legs even wider and pushed her night rail up even more. And then with slow provocativeness, he pushed his middle finger deep inside her. A gasping moan escaped her, yet she could not look away. He pulled out his finger, and her flesh sucked at the digit, not wanting to let go of that instrument of wicked pleasure. His finger glistened, and he shoved it back in, slow and deep. Her breasts were lifting and falling with every breath.
“What am I touching, Primrose?”
Her eyes flew to his, and the hunger and approval she saw in their depths stole her breath. She knew what he wanted…the words she’d read from his book, the words she sometimes o
verheard from men in the village as they reflected on randy escapades. The words she hadn’t realized could send her heart pounding and assailing her senses of propriety with the duality of shame and excitement.
“My…” Licking her lips and acting on wanton instincts, she opened her legs impossibly wider, feeling a unique sense of vulnerability and empowerment. She thought of all the naughty words she’d seen in the book and called for the one that had made her feel guilty, aroused, and even mortified though she’d not understood the why of it. Seeing the tender need in his eyes now called to something wild in her, and a sweet ache flamed through her. “My cunt.”
A hiss escaped him, and he trailed his finger up to her nub, rubbing and petting as if in approval. She clenched her fist tighter on the sheets, as tension knotted and quaked in her belly. Sharp whimpers fell from her lips as sensations she’d never dreamed of wreaked havoc through her body. He worked her clitoris, rubbing, pinching, over and over until she was a trembling mess. Firelight lit the planes of his beautiful face, the glow of lust in his eyes, the curve of carnality about his lips she was desperate to taste.
A weak cry tore from her as the riotous sensations peaked. She hadn’t expected anything like this when they came together. The arousal was so intense her parted legs trembled, her heart hammered, and the heat burning through her entire body had sweat trickling down her breasts.
He drew a deep, shuddering breath. It was a moment before he spoke again. “What if I told you when I have you on my cock moaning and screaming, I would call you my sweet wanton hussy?”
Shock ceased her breath, and then arousal—painful and destructive—surged, devastating her. “Gabriel…”
“Would you run from me or revel in the sheer sensuality of the moment? What would you do, my love?”
Primrose moaned weakly, staring at him in helpless thrall as he wove that picture of lust and depravity.
“I want to lay you on this bed, spread your thighs wide, baring your lush wet, pink cunt to my eyes, then I'll split open this pretty tight cunt with my cock.”
She gasped, a rush of wetness leaving her at his explicit words to coat his fingers. Then she understood. Filthy. The notion of being so wicked and improper had a strange heat beating in her blood. The fact they could be so free…so wickedly licentious and dirty with each other.
“I would be everything you dream of,” she whispered achingly. “Let me be your sweet harlot.”
He groaned at her wicked, wicked words, hunger flushing over his cheekbones with savage intensity.
“Primrose,” he gasped.
She smiled, feminine power and lust twisting through her. “I would hold my legs apart so you can see all that you want. And when you…” she cleared her throat delicately, admitting to herself it would take time to speak so freely without dissolving into blushes. His gaze was on her face, reading her expression. “And when you split my pussy with your cock…,” she said calling for another naughty word which had filled her with sexual curiosity. “I will enjoy every second of it.” And Primrose knew it with every breath in her body, because she soaked his fingers from scandalous words. The deed itself would destroy her.
He moaned, dropping his forehead to hers. "I'm not a small man,” he said, kissing the bridge of her nose. “And I’ll need to stretch your cunt so that you’ll love every second of me owning it…fucking it.”
His explicit words were soul destroying as she got wetter and wetter at each promise of how he would take her. His fingers worked her, one, then two, then three, and he praised her even as he stretched her, preparing her for his ravishment. All her senses were centered between her thighs. The feel of his fingers inside, stroking over the sensitive tissue, stretching her snug channel.
“I promise you there’ll be days I’ll only want to love you sweetly. To worship your body with the gentleness of touches, the softest kisses, and the slowest strokes.”
Though his words were soft, the fingers thrusting in and out of her wet aching center was anything but. His touch was rough, dominating, not making allowance for her innocence or her sensibilities, and she was unable to do anything but submit to the raw lust tearing through her.
“There will be days I will ride your cunt for so long and hard, you’ll feel the sweet hurt days later. I’ll spank the soft mound of your pussy, and I promise you’ll love every filthy second, my sweet.”
She convulsed at his raw words, scorching delight rippling through her core and bowing her back. The stark sensation went on and on, consuming and destroying her with hunger. The muscles of her quim…no, cunt, burned, tension throbbed in her loins, and delightful sensations began to spiral. Her body was no longer her own, it was still familiar, but not under her control.
The entire scene, every word, each touch was scandalous in the extreme. If she were smart, she’d continue to deny him what they both wanted. No…needed. Instead, she reached for her love, threaded her fingers through the thick strands of his hair, and melded her mouth to his, kissing him with wild passion and sensual greed. They kissed passionately, endlessly. Her arms twined around his neck, holding him close, her nails biting into his scalp as sanity slipped further and further away.