Page 24 of Prince of Scandal

She moaned. “Kiss me again. And lick me.”

Deliberately misunderstanding, Ashton kissed her inner thigh a second time. “Like that?”

“Not there!”

Her outrage almost eased the discomfort of his rock-hard cock. Almost.

“You didn’t specify where, Georgiana. If you wish your clitoris sucked, or your cunt licked and kissed, you must say so.”

“Surely you wouldn’t make a lady say such wicked things,” she protested, her cheeks now ruby red. And yet her eyes glittered with excitement. Indeed, this minx craved a stern master.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “Now you must beg for it.”

A tiny sob escaped her lips, and she arched her back, thrusting her breasts higher toward him. “Please, please, lick my cunt. I love your tongue inside me…”

A growl rumbled in Ashton’s chest, and he tightened his grip on her thighs, before dragging his tongue back and forth against her drenched folds. Honey dripped into his mouth and he greedily lapped it up, plunging his tongue deep inside her for more until her cries of pleasure echoed in the dwelling, swirling like a glorious symphony around him. Wanting to test her, he even brushed his tongue across the rosebud of her anus, rimming the tight pucker while his thumb toyed with her clitoris. Yet she didn’t stop or resist his bold play; Georgiana’s head thrashed and her nails scratched at the embroidered chaise, then she shrieked as she came again, her hips writhing and jerking before she lay still on the chaise, her breathing ragged.

Slowly, Ashton rose to his feet and settled on the chaise beside her. However, she quickly scrambled onto his lap and tucked her head against his shoulder, burrowing against him in a way that made his heart clench strangely. Protectively.

Unbidden, his hand rose to settle on her back and rub gentle circles. As though she belonged to him. “How do you feel, little one?”

“I didn’t know anything,” whispered Georgiana, “and now I do. Pleasure is…wonderful. Overwhelming. And wicked. So very, very wicked.”

“Not when all parties want the same thing.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “You put your tongue in my bottom. That is exceedingly wicked.”

“And you came so loudly it might have been heard at Rose Cottage.”

“It was sinful. Surely,” she mumbled against his neck.

Ashton chuckled as he stroked her hair, marveling at the way her lush curves fit so perfectly against him. And at feeling so unexpectedly light of heart. “We could always ask Reverend March at church on Sunday.”

Georgiana yelped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? ‘Oh, vicar, Mrs. King has an ecclesiastical query…is teasing her anus a sin? And if so, where does it fall on the list? A minor infraction, or something that will send us both to an exceedingly warmer climate…’ Georgiana, did you just pinch me?”

“Of course not,” she replied innocently. “Must have been a bug. We are very close to a river, Ashton. If I take the pole currently jabbing my hip, I could go fishing.”

Unable to stop himself, Ashton slid both hands down and cupped her backside, roughly kneading the soft, dimpled flesh and forcing her closer to him so her sensitive nipples chafed against the fabric of his waistcoat. “You are an unrepentant minx, madam.”

She whimpered. “Yes, but…I…I…could make it up to you.”

“How?”

“With my mouth?” she said tentatively, batting her lashes. “Would you like that…sir? To have your cock sucked? It is surely too large to fit, and I’ve never done this before, but I shall try very, very hard.”

Ashton barely suppressed a groan of need. How did this young widow manage to be such a dangerously intoxicating blend of sweet submissive and outrageous brat? “Very well. On your knees, Georgiana. Begin.”

* * *

So many thoughts were flying around her head that it was actually dizzying.

Slowly, carefully, Georgiana slid down onto the floor and settled on the cushion there, between Ashton’s hard thighs.

No one had prepared her for the sheer bliss of orgasms. The way they turned a body inside out and upside down before being swept away in a rush of sensation. It made her even angrier that she’d wasted so much time and attention on Rupert when there were far superior gentlemen. Those who skillfully used their tongue and fingers, cuddled a lady on their lap, and stroked her back. Who were deliciously stern and yet listened as well, actually asking what she liked and not pushing or getting cross if she didn’t want to do something.

On the other hand, Ashton might drive her quite batty if he continued to almost discipline her in the way she craved. He’d wanted to spank her when she playfully pinched and teased him. She felt it in her bones. And when his big, strong hands cupped her rear and gripped it so roughly, when he’d forced her sensitive nipples to chafe against his waistcoat…she’d almost wept with joy at the sizzle of pleasurable discomfort. But then he’d bloody well stopped.