Page 117 of Screwged for Christmas

I rolled her over so that she was under me. After I’d gone down on her last night, she’d fallen into a satisfied sleep. It surprised me how knowing her so well translated into amazing sex. Now she wrapped her legs around me, and I growled appreciatively. Her fingers stroked my back. I ached to claim her pussy. I craved to sink every inch of my cock into her and fuck her so hard she couldn’t walk without thinking of me.

I dipped my fingers to stroke over her pussy lips and found her already wet.

“That’s a friendly, good morning.” I kissed her open mouth while I slid a thick finger inside her dripping folds.

I felt her muscles clamp around my finger as she released a sigh of pleasure.

“I’m going to fuck that sweet little pussy of yours so good you’ll be thinking about me all day.”

Her fingers flexed into my back. “Mmm, yes please. I want to see if that’s true. I want that.”

“Want what?” I teased, kissing her eyelids, the delicate rim of her ear, and the soft skin of her neck.

At the same time, a second finger joined the first, and I increased my pace. That sweet little nub of her clit was swollen and eager. So damn eager.

I longed to suck on it like I did last night, tasting her juices, but my overpowering need was to sink my cock deep inside her. I would feel no peace until I rode her hard and filled her pussy with my cum.

My cock slid inside her with one smooth glide. I stilled, loving how tightly she gloved me.

“You are fucking tight. It feels amazing.” I kissed her. Her lips opened and I dove in exploring her mouth with my own.

A moan deep in her throat urged me to start stroking her. She moved her legs higher around my waist, allowing me deeper access to her sweet pussy.

I was so transported that I was only dimly aware of the commotion in the hall. This was my private wing of the castle, which meant most of the time, it was as quiet as a mausoleum.

Raised voices and slammed doors nagged at the edges of my consciousness. I relegated it to some maintenance issues. In a four-hundred-year-old castle, there was always something that needed fixing. Later today, I would find out what was going on and make sure the staff knew that this wing was off-limits until further notice.

But with Holly in my arms, the damned castle could have been on fire, and I wouldn’t want to be disturbed.

“My lady, please, let me wake his Grace.”

“Nonsense, get out of my way, Philips. I’m his mother, I’ve seen him in his birthday suit before.”

Suddenly, the heavy green velvet bed curtains snapped open. The light was dim in the room, but there was no missing the figure standing next to the bed.

“Aha!” My mother was dressed in a navy twin sweater set with our family tartan in a tailored skirt. It was daybreak, and she was already in pearls and pumps. If the apocalypse ever came, she would greet it clutching them.

Holly let out a squeak of surprise underneath me.

“Get the fuck out.” I roared, turning my head as I hunched my body over Holly to shield her.

Now, my mother released the bed curtains to peer at my bed.

“Mother, get out. Now.” The fury in my voice would have frightened anyone else.

“Finally! I thought I would never get grandbabies.” My mother clapped her hands together and smiled, as foreign to the woman as respecting privacy.

“What?” My fury was replaced with confusion. I glanced at Holly. She had slid away from me and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“I’ve been setting you up with Lord McAdam’s drippy daughter, Rosalie, because she has a girlfriend, because, you know, there’s still the matter of heirs. A mother’s work is never done.”

“Mother.” I didn’t know what horrified me more. That my mother barged in here, thought I was making babies, or had planned to marry me off as a beard. This was a lot to process before sunrise. “Wait for me in my study.”

“You can’t blame a mother for having her son’s best interests at heart.” She didn’t seem inclined to move in the least. She craned her neck to get a better view of Holly. “She’s rather small. Is she legal?”

“I’m right here. I can hear everything you say,” Holly said tartly from her blankets. “Perhaps you’d like to inspect my teeth.”

“There’s no need to be vulgar, Dear. Your dentist can send a report to my secretary.” My mother turned to me. “Does she have to be American?”

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