Page 71 of Scornful

My cock stirs at the sight of her.

"Morning, princess," I say, flipping the bacon. "Hungry?"

"Starving." She pads over, wrapping her arms around me from behind.

Her cheek presses against my bare back, and I feel her inhale deeply. "You're spoiling me."

"Get used to it." I plate the eggs and bacon, adding toast to the side. "Coffee's ready."

We eat at my small table, her foot finding mine underneath.

It's comfortable, easy in a way I never expected.

She moans around a bite of bacon, and the sound goes straight to my groin.

"This is perfect," she says, licking grease from her fingers.

"Shower?" I suggest when we're done, already imagining her wet and soapy.

Her eyes darken. "Lead the way."

In the bathroom, I turn on the water, letting it heat while I help her out of my shirt.

She stands naked before me, all soft curves and smooth skin.

I'll never get tired of looking at her.

"You're staring," she says, but she’s not self-conscious like she used to be, not like before.

"Can't help it." I strip off my boxers, my cock already half-hard. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

We step under the spray together, hot water cascading over our bodies.

I grab the shampoo, working it into her hair, massaging her scalp until she's practically purring.

"That feels incredible," she murmurs, eyes closed.

I rinse her hair thoroughly before reaching for the body wash.

This is where I take my time, building a lather between my palms before starting at her shoulders.

I work my way down, paying special attention to her breasts.

They fit perfectly in my hands, full and heavy, nipples pebbling under my touch.

"Geirolf," she breathes as I circle her nipples with soapy fingers.

"Just making sure you're clean," I say innocently, but my cock is hard as a rock now, pressing against her hip.

I continue down, over the soft swell of her belly, the flare of her hips.

Every inch of her is perfect—real, womanly, mine.

When I drop to my knees to wash her legs, she gasps.

"What are you doing?"

"Being thorough," I murmur, running soapy hands up her thighs.

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