Scaramouche X Reader Romane & Geschichten

A man on the boat reached out his hand to help me up. His face was hidden in shadow, but I could see a scar running down his cheek. I watched the flames and bid farewell to my former self. From this moment on, there was no more Serena Ferrari. From now on, I would become my own queen.

My pussy was throbbing so hard I could barely sit still. “You keep testing me, Scarlet,” he said, voice low. “I can’t help it,” I shot back. “Your control turns me on more than anything. Tell me what you would do if I wasn’t one of your flock. Would you finally touch me?” He studied me carefully, eyes moving over my flushed face and down my body before coming back up. “You don’t come here for forgiveness… you come here to be understood.”

Into him. I shook my head, trying to clear it. “What’s going on?” “You tell me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “The moment I touched you, your scent changed. It’s… different. Unstable. A Beta’s scent doesn’t do that.” He was so close now. I could see the flecks of darker gray in his eyes. See the tight line of his mouth. My own breath was coming too fast. That strange heat was spreading, making my skin feel sensitive, tingling. A faint, new scent started to rise from my own skin—something clean and sharp, like frost and ozone. I’d never smelled it before.

Blood splattered onto the floor as her body convulsed and the head rolled away across the cold tiled floor. "Aim for her heart, " Skye reminded me coldly. I held down the still-convulsing body with both my legs, slipping my clawed hand into her chest, breaking through her ribs with a sickening crunch. I ripped out her heart and tossed the warm, still-beating muscle aside. I felt like a character straight out of one of Catherine Holloway's own dark stories, especially with the way she was looking at me now with a kind of grim impatience, like this was just a casual, necessary thing to do. "Do you have an actual plan," She whispered, her voice surprisingly steady.

A savage growl tore from Winter’s throat. His fingers tangled in her silver hair, yanking her head back sharply, breaking the kiss. Her neck arched, throat bared to him, as he loomed over her, eyes blazing with frustration and dark promise. The chamber thickened with the scent of desire and defiance, raw need and the dangerous game she had begun. Scarlett’s breath ragged, her body trembling yet unyielding beneath the Lycan’s grip, his control fraying at the edges.

More juices coat my hand as Claire trembles and whimpers my name. "cum",I order and we explode together. She whimpers my name and I kiss her to muffle her ragged moan. My sweats are down so at least they won't be a mess. I pull my hand out and suck the juices from my fingers. Scar roars wanting me to eat her now. Lick her pussy he orders. Scar you ass we are in a shared fucking room I can't eat her out. A few licks please he begs. "oh my goodness ",she pants and I kiss her.

The old lady answered shaking her hand. "So what does a young lady like you is looking for? A Steamy hot romance book?" Wiggling her eyebrows, Marcia playfully asked. Scar blushed at her words. "I actually don't know what I'm looking for." "Why dear?" Scar just shrugged her shoulders a little. They talked a little more about random things when Marcia suddenly asked her, "Okay tell me, do you have a boyfriend?" The question was so unexpected that Scar was silent for a moment but maybe her mind wasn't cause it immediately went to a certain black haired man with bluish green eyes.

“I need you inside me, Damon .” His tongue plunged back into her mouth while he readjusted her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Scar ,” his scratchy voice sent shivers down her body. “Then when my cock is deep inside you, I’m going to bite you. And then you’ll be mine forever.” Shit. He’d just undone her and they hadn’t even really gotten started yet. “Words, words, words,” she teased, biting his lower lip between her teeth. “You’re all talk and no action, Damon .”

Layla scrambled back in terror, but it was too late. My claws ripped her dress, revealing the pale skin of her back. It was smooth. Flawless. There was no scar. And Myrna... Myrna had a hideous scar running from her left shoulder to her right hip. The scar I had touched a thousand times, but never once asked where it came from. "Moon Goddess," I collapsed. "What have I done?" "You regret it now?" Layla sat on the floor, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "It's too late, Clark. It's far too late."

“But what if someone comes…” “That’s the idea, silly,” she breathes. “No, I mean, what if someone else comes in…” “I’ll keep a look out,” offers Laura helpfully. “You can imagine I’m Scar Son if you like,” pleads Sandra, starting to squirm around on the bed, her hips writhing in sexual frustration while she fucks herself with two fingers inside her panties.