Because this time, the woman in his arms wasreal.
She was plump and delectable and completely nude.
He had his face pressed into her citrus-scented auburn hair.
And while he wasn’t buriedinsideher, the way that he would usually be in his dream, his cock had somehow wedged itself between her ample thighs.He could feel, though, the sweet, wet pressure of her quim on the top of his cock, even though he wasn’t inside her.And he was coming,actually coming, between her thighs, not within her.
The pleasure was more than he had ever experienced.
Because, after all, it was his first time holdinganywoman in his arms in such a carnal embrace.Never mindthistype of carnal embrace.
So, when he came, which he was very much at the moment doing, he cried out, both in pleasure and in complete and utter shock and dismay.
Because he hadnoidea how this woman had come to be in his bed.And he had no idea why he was currently embracing her as if they were lovers.
Nevertheless, he spilled between her thighs, coating them with his own slick wetness, of which there was an indecent amount, it seemed to him, even in his half-conscious state, and marking her as if he had a right.
She startled in his arms, flinching, and then let out her own cry.
With surprising strength, she pushed herself away from him, leaping off the bed and toward the far wall.
Moonlight, unusually bright, streamed through the window, allowing him to see her even in the darkness.
She turned toward him, panting, and he realized, with a strange drop in his stomach, that heknewthis woman.
She wasn’t the figment from his dream made real.
She was Miss Scarlett Perkins.
And if he had thought she looked beautiful at dinner, well…
His mouth parted as he took in her strong, full thighs, the delicious soft swell of her stomach, the thatch of hair over her quim, and her round, achingly large breasts—
“Mr.Brown!”She gasped.
A whoosh of cotton fell over the dream before him.He realized, with a shock, that she hadn’t actually been nude.She was wearing a chemise—it had only been pushed up—by him?—over her breasts.
“I-I-I…” He truly had no idea what to say.
He was not usually a wordsmith, as their dinner that evening had proven, but this experience of speechlessness was beyond anything he had ever experienced.
After all, he had just emptied his bollocks between her thighs.
“Mr.Brown!”Scarlett repeated in the same whisper-scream.
It was difficult to think of her asMiss Perkinsin this scenario.
“I will bring the whole house down on us.”
“Please…” He gasped.
“Did you come into my room with the intention of defiling me?”
For a moment, Malcolm felt his entire existence flash before his eyes.The room seemed to spin before him.
Had he?
He had only had one glass of wine at dinner, but had he fallen into some kind of drunken lust andassaultedMiss Perkins like a beast?Stumbled into her room and set upon her?
