It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Scandal - Page 7

He cupped her cheek with his other hand, peppering soft kisses over her lips, then down to her collar. She arched her neck, shivering at the hot sensation spiraling through her. With sensual deliberateness, he unfastened the strings of her nightgown and pushed it from her shoulder, then tugged down her chemise, baring her breast to his gaze. The cold night air kissed her skin, but it did little to calm the fire that burned inside her.

"What lovely breasts you have. Small and pert and tight nipples.”

His voice was awed as though it were she giving him a precious gift.

Trailing his hands down he cupped her breasts, which felt so heavy and swollen with desire. He rolled her nipples between his fingers, pinching and then soothing them with tender caresses of his moistened thumbs. The wind howled, rattling the panes of the windows. The ring nestled between her breasts felt like a searing brand and the sweetest of comfort.

“Do not move from this position,” he commanded tenderly, brushing a kiss over her forehead.

Then he stood and stripped off his shirt, trousers, boots, and drawers until he was gloriously naked. She gasped audibly at the power delineated in every inch of his beautiful body. He was fully aroused, and his penis jutted out, thick and long.

He made his way to her, and she lifted her face to the hands cupping her cheek with exquisite gentleness. Gabriel dragged his thumb softly over her lips. “I want your mouth sucking my cock in tight, wet pulls,” he said, his voice low, vibrating with need. “I can already feel your tongue, I can see how swollen and pink these sweet lips will be when I’m done fucking them.”

The explicit words flamed in her mind. His need for her was so palpable, so intense, she quaked, and his name was a sigh of longing that she couldn’t control. With a smile, he stepped closer, and she reached out and clasped his manhood in her hands. How smooth yet so hard and inflexible and thicker than all the drawings she’d seen in the book. Her thumb and forefinger struggled to meet where she encircled him. An odd sort of excitement and trepidation darted through Primrose.

Gripping her chin with one hand, and his cock with the other, Gabriel guided her to what he craved. Her lips parted as the smooth head of his cock nudged against them. She opened and allowed him to take her mouth in a shallow, provocative stroke. His hands tightened in her hair, his body tensing as a ragged groan filled her ears.

“Suck my cock with your pretty mouth,” he groaned.

His hands tangled in her hair now, holding her close, sliding his cock deep down her throat. The sharp tug on her scalp sent a thrill racing down to her toes.

“By God, you’re lovely,” he praised. “Fuck me with that pretty little mouth, my sweet wanton minx.”

The filthy words felt like a striking force of pleasure directly against her clitoris. A piercing agony of need flamed throug

h her, spilling through her belly and down to that throbbing place between her legs.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look,” he whispered.

She licked him tentatively, then with more confidence as the walls of his stomach rippled with pleasure, and groans of pleasure and filthy praises spilled guttural from his throat. One of his hands gripped his cock, the other twisted in her hair, but gently. Primrose moaned around the pulsating length sliding over her tongue, reveling in the tenderness, the utter warmth of his touch.

Releasing her hair, he cupped her face, stroking his thumb over her lips. Looking up at him slowly, her breath caught at the stark male hunger in his gaze. With a ragged, impatient groan, he pulled his length from her lips. He went to his knees, hands gripping her thighs and pulling her hips to the edge of the bed. His expression was tight, the flesh drawn over his cheekbones, his eyes narrowed, his lips heavy with sensuality.

“I want you to hook your ankles around my neck and hold my mouth to your pussy,” he whispered staring at her exposed flesh. “Lick you, taste you, drive you mindless with need and want, my tongue driving you to orgasm. My wicked, delightful harlot.”

“Please.” She was almost crying with need. Wanting everything he said and more. Eager to let him feel the same destructive pleasure whipping through her body, she purred against his lips, “Lick my cunt…unravel me with your wicked, naughty tongue. Make me sob your name and scream my pleasure.”

Ecstasy transformed his face. And she realized he hungered to be just as filthy with her urgings and praises. He spread her thighs wide as he lowered his mouth to the swollen, wet curves of her aching quim. The first touch of his tongue to her clitoris destroyed her. He licked at her drenched sex, piercing her flesh with mind-shattering pleasure whenever his tongue curled and rasped over the sensitive nub.

He licked her folds, parting them, and then he covered her nub with his lips, sucking it delicately. Then he came up, his lips glistening. “You’re so damned wet I could drown in you.”

“I can’t help it,” she cried, her entire body blushing red.

“You taste like heaven, ” he murmured. “Lick my lips. I want you to know the sweetness I taste.”

She darted her tongue across the seam of his lips—sweet, musky, sultry. His growl of approval ghosted over her mouth, and right down to the empty aching place between her legs. He lowered himself back to her splayed legs and engulfed that bundle of pleasure into his mouth. Then he began to lick and suck it with firm destructive strokes. She writhed beneath him, twisting, bucking against his mouth as he worked her clitoris. Her nub was a swollen knot of burning need, and he kept her on a wicked edge of pleasure, never tipping her over.

She did everything he wanted, simply because she could not help the hunger crawling through her body. Her heels pressed into his shoulders as she arched her wet sex against his diabolical tongue. Primrose screamed, she moaned, and she begged for relief. Then he took her clitoris between his teeth and nipped. She trembled as pleasure swept through her, blistering and forceful.

He rose above her, his eyes dark with hunger. A firm, heavy pressure lodged against her wet opening. His gaze swept over her body once more, taking in her lascivious sprawl, and a pleased groan escaped his throat. Her eyes dropped to her splayed thighs, to where they connected, gasping weakly as the broad flared head of his cock parted the wet folds of her quim. He kissed her, centering her to the taste of his lips, as he began to work his cock inside her in shallow thrusts that opened her, stretched her to accept his steady penetration.

“Gabriel…,” She sobbed his name against his lips. “Make me yours.”

He leaned over her, his expression so gentle, so filled with approval that her heart clenched. “It’s going to hurt, my Primrose.” His voice was dark, excited. “You’re going to scream for me, and you’re going to love it.”

Then he shoved his cock up inside her dripping opening in one, smooth movement. The sudden penetration had her arching at the pleasure-pain of his abrupt impalement. Her body was so very wet, soft, and yielding, but even so, her muscles resisted his invasion, and her core quivered to accommodate his thickness.

She lost her breath; she lost any control of her body. “Gabriel!” she gasped raggedly at the unbearable pressure filling her sheath.

Tags: Stacy Reid Romance
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