It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Scandal

A happy sigh slipped from her. “I do like happy endings,” she murmured, kissing his chin.

He kissed the soft hollow between her shoulder blades and caressed the fullness of her rounded bottom through her day gown. As was their way as lovers, they kissed endlessly as if they could not get enough of each other. His erection rose hard and sure beneath her bottom, and she purred her approval against his lips.

Grabbing her hips, he lifted and positioned her on his lap so that she straddled him, her thighs bracketing the outside of his. He hiked her day gown with one hand, pushing them up to her legs and reaching beneath to find the heart of her through the slit of her drawers. He tapped a finger on her clitoris, those small tender strikes burning her with wanton cravings.

“Has your sweet cunt been missing me?”

A dark thrill skated down her spine and anticipation heated her blood. “Desperately, my insatiable stallion,” she purred. Since their night of untamed loving back at Sancrest Manor, he had been quite gentlemanly with his passions. Tender, sweet, rocking into her with lazy strokes each night which still had the power to sweep her to agonizing pleasure but lacking the dark wickedness which had flowed between them that first night. “I miss your filthy mouth,” she confessed softly.

She felt the pulse of his cock as it jerked in his pants. With surprising swiftness he had her from his lap, standing, her back to his. There he kissed her neck, tenderly.

“How do you want me to love you tonight?” his voice was a low murmur of need, and a thrill went through her.

The blush rising through her body surprised her, and she bit her lips. She felt the curve of his mouth against her neck.

"Shall I pummel your pussy with my cock and fuck you until sitting would be a delicate exercise for you, is that what you want, my darling?"

Primrose trembled, a wanton heat flaring through her entire body.

He turned her to face him, his gaze kissing over her face with possessive intensity. “I can see that sweet, perfect harlot staring at me through these beautiful eyes.” He dragged his thumb over her lips roughly, his voice a gravelly rasp of lust. "You're in a mood for your pussy to be broken, aren't you…and I'm in the mood to give it to you."

His words were wicked and sensual, yet his touch was so tender.

He challenged her to understand his desires and to explore those awakening in her wanton heart. Primrose tipped on her toes, leaned in, and licked along the seam of his lips. “Tonight I want it all,” she whispered achingly. “Love me sweetly, ravish me, break me, fuck me and let me feel the tender hurt in my cunt days after you’ve had me. ”

His groan of approval and want whispered through the air. With shaking fingers, her lover started to undo the devilish rows of buttons on her day dress. Impatient arousal bit at her, but her lover was enticingly slow, peppering kisses over her lips with each button undone. Parting her gown, he lowered his lips and licked along the plump flesh of her breast, right above the top bone of her corset. He unlaced her, tugging at each string sensually slow, kissing her deeply the entire time.

Primrose was a quiver of sensation by the time her lover had finished undressing her. Leaving her only in her white stockings, he lowered himself back in the chair and tugged her into his lap, adjusting her legs over the wide wooden arms of the chair. Her cunny was open and vulnerable to his hungry gaze.

With deliberate movements, he unpinned her hair so that the curtain of her hair fell around them in cascading waves. He flicked a finger over her nipple, and she gasped, arching into the touch. His wicked fingers delved lower, finding the hot, wet heart of her. Three fingers suddenly speared inside of her, deep and hard. A cry tore from her throat as pleasure swept through Primrose.

He groaned, and placed a wet kiss on her neck, and then a nip. “You like when I stretch you, do

n’t you, my wicked, delightful harlot?”

“Yes,” she gasped against his mouth.

Her skin was sensitive, her breasts swollen with arousal, her cunt clenching in need. He worked her with his fingers widening her snug channel. The sensation of being stretched was so erotic Primrose quivered, and a low moan, raw and fractured, echoed from her lips as wetness gushed his hands.

Finally, Gabriel pulled his fingers from her, undoing the buttons so the front flap fell down and his engorged cock sprang free. His hands slid down and cupped her bottom and then positioned her over his length. Then slowly, so slowly, he pulled her onto his cock and began to penetrate her. So hot, pressing inside her, opening her, stretching her…

“Gabriel,” she moaned huskily, her fingers biting into his shoulder. Though she was wet and welcoming the tight stretch was almost painful.

He pushed in inexorably despite her whimpers, seating himself to the hilt. She held her breath as one of his hands left her buttocks and slipped around to her where they joined to her nub. His thumb flicked and then pressed hard, then rubbed, then pinched. Her eyes widened in shock at the brutal punch of pleasure. Fire and pleasure.

She leaned in, caught his lower lip between her teeth, and bit lightly, then licked the sting away. His rumble of approval vibrated through her.

“Fuck me with your sweet, tight pussy, my wicked little minx," he urged against her lips, gripping her buttocks tightly with his other hand.

It was all so wicked and wonderful. With a sigh of surrender, Primrose rode him, with short then deep rolls of her hips, her head thrown back in wanton abandon. His diabolical finger never stopped rubbing or pinching her knot of pleasure, driving her to heights of extreme bliss. Her nails dug into his shoulders as each stroke of his cock pushed her deeper toward a release so intense, so brutal it bordered on pain. The storm gathered inside her, and she wantonly chased it, sobbing his name, then screaming it. Throwing her head back, she let out a keening cry, her back arching as currents of pure pleasure jolted through her.

Lifting her in his arms, he walked with her impaled on his cock to their bedroom and tumbled with her onto the bed. His warm, masculine body covered her like a sensual blanket, and she wrapped her legs high around his hips, holding him deep inside her.

They kissed, his hips rolled, and pleasure lashed at her. Primrose wasn’t sure how long they made love for, but it felt like hours before she tumbled into a deep, exhausted sleep, a smile on her lips.

Chapter 7

Primrose wasn't altogether certain what made her surge awake. The room was slightly chilled. She slipped from the bed, padded barefoot across the room to spark the fire in the hearth. Once she had coaxed the flames to life, she returned to the bed and slid beneath the coverlets, careful not to jostle Gabriel.