The Perfect Scandal

Chapter Seven

"Yes, please Miss!" I exclaimed, raising my hips up to meet her fingers as they relentlessly pressed into me.

My body was on fire, every nerve-ending tingled with desire. My chest heaved: my lungs combusted into nothing but ash and debris inside of me. Shutting my eyes, I allowed my head to fall back upon the pillow, canting my hips up, up, up. I wanted more, I needed more. I needed Mallory to be tongue deep inside of me, lips and tongue thrashing against me like the waves of an ocean crashing against the rocks during a storm.

The small of my back began to ache with the position-- hips pressed into the air, but the rising pressure in my lower stomach was far more urgent. The flames inside of me were burning brighter, engulfing my whole body little by little with each plunge of fingers.

"That's it," Mallory cooed, her voice thick and heavy as she looked down upon me, "take everything I have to offer you, my sweet, you've earned it."

She was just as sweaty as, if not more so, I was. Her usually composed self was in a disheveled mess; hair flung out in every direction, maroon smudged at both corners of her lips, and clothes removed asides from a bra. The only article of clothing she wore was no use, each cup was pulled down and tucked beneath her breasts and the under-wire. Pert nipples stood to attention, lightly defined abdominal muscles twitched, and toned arms flexed with each thrust. Mallory Morgan was undeniably beautiful, but in this moment, every appealing attribute about her seemed to magnify by thousands.

I panted beneath the woman, my throat drier than the Sahara. The way she twisted her fingers was unbelievable, and the way her body contorted in order to apply more pressure was astonishing. This woman, while she may be completely infuriating, was content (possibly ecstatic) to give to her lovers.

"Miss," I choked out, practically sobbing at the sheer pleasure she was giving me. "Plea-please."

Mallory looked down at me once again, adoration on her lips as they curled into a small grin that could brighten my soul, if I had one. Her eyes flashed quickly to danger, mischeviousness curving her lips from that smile to a smirk. The look she was giving me was predatory, and I was open and willing to being her prey.

"Of course dear, come for me."

Those simple words, accompanied with her fingers, caused my eyes to roll back and my shoulders to stiffen against the mattress. It started off low in my gut, slowly but surely traveling up. It paralyzed my back muscles first, then arms, then relocated to my legs and feet. I felt like I was holding plank position, my body tightened and shook so deliciously that I almost forgot to breath.

"Yes, yes!" I exclaimed, by mouth practically wired open, curving into a wide smile.

As soon as the blinding, white light dicipated from my eyes, I lifted my head from the pillow and opened my eyes, just staring at Mallory. I hadn't noticed when she removed her fingers: perhaps when my body was shaking like a palm tree, but I sobbed at the absence, still wanting more dispite the fact that I was about to pass out from exhaustion.

Orgasms took a lot out of a woman.

Mallory leaned over me, then lowered herself, pressing her firm body against my own. She brought her lips to my own, hungrily crashing against them with teeth and tongue. There was nothing sweet about the way she attacked my lips, but pure animalistic.

She released me from her liplock suddenly, pulling away with a smirk on those smeared lips.

"Ask me for anything, my dear, and you will receive," she murmured, her breath dancing against the she'll of my ear.

I shivered in excitement. "You," I whispered, my heart speaking before my mind had the opportunity to object.

Biting my lip in anticipation, I watched as surprise crossed Mallory's features, but soon, confusion, then understanding. And then, she laughed.