She expected him to refuse, but to her surprise, he didn’t.Even as her body screamed in objection when he took his hand away from her core, she was glad.Because he undid the placket of his trousers and the tapes of his smalls.And then he was there before her—bare and large and hot and pulsing forher.
Scarlett stretched out her hand and palmed him.She had never touched a man like this before, so she had no idea what would feel good to him.So instead, she just stroked him gently, mimicking what he had been doing to her.
“Ah—” He gasped.“Dear God.”
“Did I hurt you?”
She realized then that her hand was damp.It was his seed, just a little of it.She recognized it from what he had left between her legs on their first night.
“No.The opposite.”
“Touch me again.”
He obliged her, and she kept stroking him.He cried out, and so did she.Thank God the lodge was empty.
She ratcheted up higher and higher yet and she knew her climax was near.
“You are going to make me—I am going to—”
“Yes, darling, please.”
Thedarlingthrilled her.
She came hard, her core clenching and unclenching in fierce waves of pleasure.
And then, to her surprise, he jerked beneath her fingers and filled her hand with his hot, copious seed.
Never in her life had Miss Scarlett Perkins felt so powerful.
Chapter Twenty-One
Malcolm Brown hadcomein Scarlett Perkins’s hand.
The pleasure had been white-hot and overwhelming.
It had been even better than the closet—which he had previously not thought possible—because he could see her while he touched her.
Her skin flushed beautifully when she came, that rich cream of her neck and cheeks staining pink.
Her tentative, unpracticed hand on his cock was too much for him.
He had been unable to stop it.
In the seconds after, he was sure he had embarrassed himself.
But he couldn’t regret it.“I-I am sorry,” he stammered.“I didn’t mean to—”
“Malcolm,” she said, smiling up at him.“Don’t apologize.It gratifies me more than I can say.”
He swallowed, hard, at those kind words.
Quickly, he did up the placket on his trousers, avoiding her eyes.
Then he realized she was still lying there, holding a handful of his spill.“Do you have a handkerchief?”
His seed was pooling out of her hand onto the coverlet.And she couldn’t be thrilled to have his seed in her hand, even if she didn’t mind that he had spent.
The only person who had ever had to deal with the result of his spend was him.It was not something that he ever thought he would subject a woman to.
