Page 37 of Scandal Queen

“What’s the matter, Leia?” Raising up a little he kissed along my throat, along the edge of my jaw, his teeth pulling on my earlobe.

“There are better ways to exercise than running in the morning.” I changed my statement as I tried to move my hips so his fingers would slip inside me. They didn’t, stroking instead over my clit as I writhed against his hand.

“Like what, Leia?”

“Like this.” I gasped as his tongue thrust into my mouth; hard and utterly delectable.

Sleep to orgasm in two minutes. My anticipation clawed inside me, burning hot and endlessly intense.

“Am I a royal loser at this too?” His lips went back to their maddening path on my neck and I managed to giggle and gasp all at once. “Roll over.” His command turned me to orgasmic jelly. My legs, usually utterly useless, responded instantly and I rolled onto my tummy.

He raised onto his knees and pulled at the waistband of my shorts, tugging them down and exposing my butt. Flipping heck. Pulling on my hips, he lifted me slightly before running his fingers between the cleft of my arse. I groaned into the pillow as his fingers slipped deep inside me, pushing right against that spot that makes my toes point like a ballerina. “Oh shit.”

He chuckled, low and deep, his fingers unrelenting as he slipped another one inside. Turning me slightly, his other hand reached around and pressed hard against my clit and rotated in a small but intense circle.

“I think I’m going to die.” I pushed back on his fingers, making them go so deep it almost hurt. The pleasurable pain lit a deep and unmanageable tingle. It waved over me, dragging me higher and higher, until his fingers disappeared and I spiralled back down.

He pecked his lips against my neck and smacked my arse so hard the sound rang around the room. My orgasm, so close and painful, ebbed away, leaving me clawing desperately at the cotton sheets. Leaning close to my ear, he flicked his tongue against my earlobe; his warm breath on my skin made me shiver. “You can think about that all day while you are with my mother.”

“Oliver.” I groaned into the duvet. “You can’t do that.”

Sweet Jesus, the ache of dissatisfaction already stung, it would only get worse.

“Your royal loser shall look forward to his apology.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” I whined.

It didn’t make any difference, he slipped off the bed and left me aching in a way I’d never experienced before.

It was going to be a long day.

By the time I’d got out of the shower and dressed—I’d considered finishing off Oliver’s tantalising tease for myself as I stood under the hot water in the wet room but decided I’d wait. It wouldn’t be the same, and I knew, and he knew that I wanted him to finish the job—Daisy and Oliver were eating pancakes at the kitchen island. He poured me a coffee and pushed it across the island, a secret smile playing across his lips. “So, Daisy what shall we do today while Mummy is with the Queen?”

I held in my groan.

“Don’t you have work to do?” I lifted an eyebrow.

“No. I’m still on holiday.”

I thought hard for a moment trying to work out what day it was until he laughed.

“It’s Saturday.”

Had it really only been just over a week since Daisy had been almost fatally ill? I wondered if weeks would ever feel the same again.

A pang struck my chest at the realisation things would never be the same again. Would life now feel like a forever of Sundays?

“What are you thinking?” His smile dropped.

“That this is weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” His smile lifted, but his eyes remained tight.

“Just generally weird.”

He nodded slowly. “I guess.”

I shrugged and smiled brightly, leaning over to kiss Daisy’s head. “We’ll have to tell Nana that we can’t go for Sunday lunch.”