Page 104 of Screwged for Christmas

I licked my lower lips. I probably shouldn’t have encouraged him back at the bar, but I was feeling a little burned after Noah gave me the boot in his utterly polite socially acceptable way. By being curt and cold. In other words, a robot.

Nothing about Malcolm felt cold or robotic.

God this was happening.Thiswas Malcolm.

Yes, he was an arrogant asshole, as I reminded him regularly. But I’d also witnessed him give away his winter coat to a homeless man in the ER on a frigid night and I knew he’d paid more than a few patients’ medical bills. He didn’t know I knew that.

I popped the top few buttons of his shirt while his lips kissed my collarbone and lower. I slid my hand inside his shirt, feeling the solid plane of his chest. My fingertips curled in the dusting of hair there.

“Bed?” I whispered.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you against the wall all night,” Malcolm growled. His voice grew thicker when he was excited, I noted. “Fill that tight pussy of yours with my cock and feel you squeeze around me.”

I gulped. Malcolm growling in a Scottish burr was fucking fantastic.

I made the mistake of gasping with surprise and he took advantage, claiming my mouth in a hard kiss that yes, made my toes curl and my heart race.

He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His fingers kneaded my ass, sliding ever closer to my—

“Oh!” I cried, dropping my forehead to rest on his shoulder.

He rubbed the fabric of my panties before hooking a finger inside. I moaned into his neck when he stroked a finger over my throbbing clit.

“Holly, damn” Malcolm’s voice was ragged. “You’re so wet.”

The feral growl in his voice only made me grow wetter. My head fell back when he stroked a finger along the soft flesh of my dripping wet pussy lips. Sounds of my juices and his finger working me filled the room.

“And Jesus, you’re fucking tight.” He angled his finger, and I ground my hips against him.

Jesus help me, if he made fingering me feel this fantastic, what would taking him deep inside me feel like?

“Such sticky panties. Let’s make that pussy come all over my cock.”

“Yes.” I hooked one hand around his neck while the other reached for his waistband.

“There’s no rush, Holly. We have all night.” He carried me to my small bed.

Maybe there wasn’t a rush for him, but I felt like I was fucking going to explode if I didn’t have him inside me.

He lay me on the bed. The buttons on his shirt that I opened gave me a glimpse of his bare skin, making my mouth water. He removed his shirt, then his pant and I was left speechless. Malcolm Murdoch was impressive with clothes on, naked…the man could revive the dead.

There was just enough light from outside that I could appreciate the planes of his abs, the way his treasure trial dusted down his abdomen and led to the thick base of his cock—thick, veined and so veryveryperfect.

I’d seen plenty of men without their clothes in my line of work, but nothing that aroused me like Malcolm’s fully erect cock did. It was fucking huge. I was familiar with the mechanics, but I wasn’t exactly sure how that was going to fit inside me.

And yet I never wanted anything like I wanted Malcolm buried inside me.

My dress hem was bunched around my waist. Malcolm reached down, hooked his fingers into my panties, and ripped them off me. The sound of the shredding fabric echoed in my room, along with my own surprised, “Oh! Now who is in a hurry?” I teased.

I froze, afraid the hallmates would sound the alarm that I had a beast of a man in my room.

No one came running to beat down my door so I figured a little more noise might be acceptable.

“Now you’ll never wear those panties again.” Malcolm crumpled them into his fist, then pressed them to his nose. “I bet your pussy tastes delicious.”

I was wound so tight already that all I wanted was to feel him inside me, no detours.

I stroked a hand down my abdomen and then slowly swirled a finger around my clit, redirecting his attention. “Fuck me, Malcolm. Fuck me hard.”

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