Chapter 6
Six
Holly
H oly hell. What the hell just happened? Last night and multiple times this morning, Malcolm wrung multiple orgasms from me.
And to think I was just hoping for a hotel room somewhere. I'd not pictured being thoroughly fucked in the Duke of Lachlan's magnificent four-poster bed.
And it was glorious. My body still buzzed with pleasure. I couldn't think of the last time I felt this relaxed. After all that time in bed, we'd leisurely showered. Malcolm had been fascinated by my body, wet and slippery.
"I can't stand the thought of putting those clothes back on," I said, enjoying Malcolm toweling me off. He alternated, kissing my body part with the towel work.
"Don't," he said simply.
"I'm not walking around your castle wearing your bathrobe."
"More's the pity." He chuckled. "I have a few things that might work."
"Your clothes will never fit me." I would feel like a child playing dress-up in Malcolm's clothes.
"Have a little faith." He dropped our towels and led me back into his bedroom. I was surprised how natural it was to walk around naked with him.
He pulled several shopping bags out of his wardrobe. "See what you think of these."
I peered inside, then I raised my head. "I'm not wearing a corset and garter belt to breakfast."
Malcolm already had on his briefs and was pulling his tee-shirt over his head. He grinned when his head popped through the neck hole. "Try the other bag."
I pulled out a lavender cowl neck sweater and slim black pants. "The sweater is so soft!" I hugged it to me.
"It should be, it's made from our own wool."
"It's cashmere?"
"Of course." He sounded surprised.
And why not. He was a duke. I didn't buy cashmere sweaters. I was still paying off my student loans and mom's constant nursing home bills.
Still clutching it to my bare chest, I pulled out a lacey bra and panty set precisely the same color.
"You like this color, huh?" I set the sweater down to slip on the bra.
He came around to hook my bra. "I love this color. It goes well with your eyes." He brushed my hair away from my neck, pressing his lips to my bare skin there. Honest to God, I swooned. "If I don't leave now, I'll have you bent over the couch, taking my cock. Meet me in the dining room when you're ready." He released me, but his lips brushed my ear. "And skip the panties."
I closed my eyes, hoping to God that he opted for bending me over the couch. Then my stomach gurgled. Well damn, I guess food it was.
When I was alone in the room, I gulped a few breaths. I had to get a grip.
I was a professional woman. I had the same fucking degrees that Malcolm had. And I'd obtained them much earlier and under levels of stress he could never imagine.
Mom's work as a nurse provided the only income for us and as her health started failing, she continued working. Luckily, I discovered early on that I was good at taking tests.
Ok, that's not entirely true. I was great at test-taking. Good test-taking lead to IQ testing, which lead to me skipping multiple grades. I skipped high school altogether and entered a combined college and medical school program on a scholarship.
My chosen work would allow me to cover Mom's medical expenses. That was how I was a physician at twenty-two.
And a virgin till last May.
All I was comfortable with was learning, and there was so much to learn.
This thing with Malcolm was something else entirely. I wasn't sure how to even categorize it. I don't know why I craved his commands when he was buried deep inside me, but I had to get control of it.
I slipped the panties on, then the pants along with cashmere socks and knee-high black leather boots. Surprisingly, everything fit perfectly. Was there anything that man didn't do well?
I studied my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I had some color in my cheeks. I left my hair loose instead of pulling it back like I usually did. There was something different about me, more than the wardrobe change.
Peering closer in the mirror, I was surprised at the woman I saw there. She beamed back to me and it hit. I looked happy.
Downstairs in the dining room, a full hot breakfast and Malcolm waited for me. He sat at the head of the twelve-person table, reading a newspaper and sipping his coffee.
"You found the dining room. I was hoping the smell of bacon would help."
My stomach rumbled again.
"You collect coats of arms, I see."
Malcolm led me to the place setting at his right. "Family history."
"Some family." I couldn't imagine passing knights armor from the crusades every time I needed a snack.
"You wouldn't believe it." He sighed.
Philips appeared with two plates and a blank expression bearing no trace of having witnessed the earlier activity in Malcolm's room. He set down the plates, made sure we had everything we needed, and disappeared.
"And you don't find that in the least bit weird?" I asked after we started eating. The bacon, eggs, and homemade bread with a thick raspberry jam were delicious.
"Why do you think I loved my life in New York?" Malcolm asked in return. "This is all because my brother had a death wish."
"Now that you've been settled in, does it feel more familiar?" I stole a glance at Malcolm.
"I'm more familiar with the problems. I'm working hard to remedy them, but it isn't what I would choose."
Then come back to New York.
I didn't say it, but it sat on the tip of my tongue. I knew a fair bit about duty myself.
"I've got work to do this morning in my study," Malcolm said. "Take a look around Lachlan and come find me later this afternoon." It wasn't a question. It was a command. Malcolm was used to people doing what he wanted.
After breakfast, I didn't explore Lachlan. I went back up to his room, laid down on the couch with a blanket and dozed before the fire. While we were at breakfast, someone had made the bed, stoked the fire, and replaced the towels in the bathroom.
It's like living in a five-star hotel, I thought drowsily before slipping into sleep.
It felt like I'd just closed my eyes when Malcolm woke me.
"Sleepy lass, I didn't let you rest much last night." Crouched next to me, he watched me with his dark eyes.
"I wasn't complaining." I stirred. "Besides, I'm pretty sure this is jet lag."
"Is that what you're going with?"
"Yes," I said firmly.
He winked at me. "All work and no play makes for a very dull duke. We're going for a sleigh ride."
I sat up. "A sleigh ride? Why?"
"Can't I take you on a sleigh ride in some fresh snow on the day before Christmas Eve without having an ulterior motive?"
"Some men, yes, but you no."
He swept me off my feet. "Come, my Lady, the chariot awaits. It snowed heavily while we slept last night and this morning."
"Malcolm! Put me down! What if someone sees us," I laughed softly, swinging around checking for servants.
"Don't worry. My mother has them trained, so they appear if you need something, but otherwise, they stay out of the way."
A knock on the bedroom door had me scrambling out of Malcolm's arms. He let me go, but not quickly. I tried pushing him away; he responded by smacking my ass. That warmed not only my ass but reminded me of this morning.
"Come in," Malcolm called, sliding a possessive arm around my shoulders.
"As you requested Your Grace, here are your coats. Fergus has the team pulled around out front."
"Excellent, Philips. I'll take those."
The manservant hesitated. Clearly, he wanted to dress us.
"Tell my mother we'll be back for tea." Malcolm took the pile of clothing from him.
"Very good, Your Grace." Relief lit the pale man's features as he excused himself.
Malcolm pulled a black coat from the pile. It didn't have buttons but a belt that tied around the waist. "You need something to keep you warm in our Scottish winters."
He held it open, so I could slide my arms in. It was like being wrapped in a warm cloud. More cashmere. Damn. A girl could get used to this.
"This is quite a change. You're actually putting clothes on me." I glanced up at him from under my lashes.
"Does it help to know that I planned all the ways I wanted to fuck you in my study this morning?" His hands rested on my shoulders as his lips brushed my ear.
I turned to face him, running my hands up his chest. He may be busy running his Dukedom or whatever it was called, but judging from his muscled pecs, he was still working out intensively. Not a surprise really; whatever Malcolm did, he threw himself into it.
"I'm on board with that." I rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. His lips covered mine. Kissing him was like a drug. I could never get enough. "Your Grace," I whispered.
He growled appreciatively, then reached inside my coat and pulled me hard against him. "There's no need to wait."
I pulled back with a sigh. "There's a sleigh waiting for us, so yes, we have to wait."
"The daylight won't last for much longer." He added a deep blue and green tartan scarf around my neck.
"Isn't that yours?" The plaid looked familiar.
"The scarf is yours. The tartan is our family's."
"You have your own print?"
"Technically, it's woven, but yes, that particular tartan belongs to the Murdoch family." He tucked in the neckline of my coat. "You wear it well."
Oh fuck. They had a coat of arms, of course they had their own plaid. I mean, what did I expect? He lived in a freaking castle.
Malcolm wore a navy pea coat. He handed me a pair of gloves and a knit hat as we left the house. The rest of the castle was quiet as our footsteps echoed along the marble floor.
"Where's your mother?" I asked.
"Probably directing some poor servant around. I don't know where she disappears during the day. Don't worry, she never misses tea time. And after this morning, the apocalypse wouldn't keep her away."
"I don't think I should go."
"Why?" He opened the massive front door and we stepped out into a flurry of snowflakes.
An old-fashioned sleigh with the ducal crest and four white horses waited for us.
The horses stamped their feet impatiently. Fergus tipped his cap to us. "Good afternoon, Your Grace and My Lady. There's a foot warmer for you."
We greeted Fergus as Malcolm helped me into the back seat of the sleigh. He settled in close, sliding the foot warmer over for me. I didn't think my feet were cold, but the foot warmer was a little slice of heaven.
Around us, steady snow fell like it did in those holiday movies I always thought were cheesy. Now, not so much.
I watched it accumulate this morning from Malcolm's study window. Heavy snowfall wasn't common, he said, but to me, it looked just like what I imagined. I was here with Malcolm. New York and my problems there felt a million miles away. Nothing seemed real here, just one big fairytale.
"Back to the topic of tea. I don't think I should go because your mom won't understand us." I continued as we started off.
"I don't understand us," Malcolm pulled the pile of blankets over us. "Maybe she can explain it to me. Us,
" He offered.
"Be serious, Malcolm." The horse's jingle bells made a merry sound as we glided down the driveway before turning onto an open field. It was like being in a magical snow globe.
"I am serious."
"We're just messing around. Your family needs you here, and my life is in New York." I couldn't keep the regret out of my voice.
"Giving me your virginity was "messing around"?" Malcolm's gloved fingers made air quotes around the word, but he didn't meet my eyes. He was absorbed studying the wintery wonderland before us.
"Shh! Do you mind lowering your voice? I don't think Fergus needs to know that much about me." What was the matter with Malcolm? He knew why I was here.
"Don't worry about Fergus. He's made a career about not hearing things."
We pulled away from Lachlan, heading across open fields. The snow fell fast and thick. The sharp cold air and the smell of fresh evergreen filled my senses. Malcolm and I were tucked under a thick pile of blankets cozy as could be.
It was truly magical.
His ungloved hand warmed from all the blankets slid around my waist and migrated lower, until he slid effortlessly inside my waistband.
"Malcolm," I stirred, half excited and half worried since we were not alone.
I accepted that what happened between us in bed—and before the fireplace and in the shower—was something I didn't want to stop. Except for his mother barging in on us, the sexual nature of our relationship was private.
His hand snaking down my waistband during a sleigh ride was not private.
"You're wearing panties. I told you not to."
"You don't own me."
"No, I don't." He thumbed my clit, and I widened my legs, granting him greater access. From the corner of my eye, I witness a flash of possessiveness sweep across his expression.
He leaned in. "You don't like me touching you?"
"It's not a matter of like, it's a matter of timing." Still, I could feel that my argument was about as useful as holding back a tidal wave. My body wanted Malcolm's touch at every opportunity.
He slid a thick finger inside me and I won't lie, it felt amazing and so filthy. Forbidden.
"Slick just like I knew you would be." He whispered into my hair.
"Malcolm," I said going for stern but it came out like a plea.
"I want this to be a sleigh ride you remember." Snow clung to his dark hair. He looked rugged, handsome, and utterly in charge. Not at all like a man fingering me under a pile of blankets on a Christmas sleigh ride. "I told you not to wear panties. You chose to disobey me. Now I'm going to make you come so hard you'll never forget this sleigh ride."
"It's the only sleigh ride I've been on, so I'm pretty sure that won't be a problem."
He nuzzled my ear. "Doesn't that feel good?"
"Fuck, yes." I breathed. It didn't just feel good; it felt fucking fantastic.
"Try again."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Now that's a good girl. Don't worry, Fergus is deaf as a post when he needs to be."
This was madness. Not just getting fingered in the sleigh, though that was part of it. I was falling in love with Malcolm. And with his fingers stroking the fuck out of my pussy, it was hard to believe that.
The snowfall increased so that even Fergus wasn't visible. The only sound was the sled runners sliding across the snow and the slight jingle of the horses' bells.
Meanwhile, Malcolm stroked me until nearly all thought left my brain.
Maddening! I'd hoped he was just teasing me planning to leave me wet, ready, and very frustrated. But Malcolm never did anything half way.
Now I understood he was going to make me come during a sleigh ride. And what was more incredible was that I, an independent professional woman, wanted it.
"Come for me, Holly. That sweet pussy of yours feels so good. I only wish my cock was inside you, feeling you grab me, milk me and take my milk."
His thumb rubbed my swollen clit. I bit my lip to hold back a cry as my climax hit me with the force of a blizzard.
Malcolm's lips met mine in a fierce kiss. He swallowed my cries as I rode his hand.
My body was on fire as sparks of electricity sizzled through my body. Snowflakes fell on my hot face, melting on my lashes and cheeks.
I opened my eyes to find Malcolm studying me.
"Happy now?" The blankets had been pulled up to our shoulders. I was dazed.
"Very. You?" He looked smug.
I glanced towards the front of the sleigh. The snow was still falling thickly obscuring him. Again, I'm sure our activities hadn't gone unnoticed.
"You do this kind of thing often?" My question surprised me. I tried very hard not think of Malcolm and another woman. Back in New York, he was a player.
"Only with you." He kissed the tip of my nose.
What the fuck was I doing? A girl from the Bronx doesn't take sleigh rides with a Scottish duke.
This was some seriously crazy shit, not a slutty version of the Hallmark channel.
The sleigh slowed.
"Where are we?" Everything looked white and green.
"It's the duke of Lachlan's responsibility to choose the best tree. Fergus selects a tree in summer like any sensible man. Then all the duke needs to do is take a ride out and approve of it when everything is covered in snow. The grounds keeping staff will cut it down and bring it back to the house."
"You mean we didn't even need to do this?" I was still the haze of my orgasm. I wasn't even sure what I was saying.
"Miss a sleigh ride with you?" Malcolm kissed me hard and I opened my mouth to him, letting his tongue slide over mine. He pulled back. "Besides, I thought you liked it."
Arrogant asshole. Of course, I liked it. I fucking loved it. But that was not the point.
"That's a huge tree, even for Lachlan."
"It needs to be impressive for the Christmas Eve ball."
"You're hosting a Christmas Eve ball?"
"I forgot how many questions you ask." Malcolm kissed me again, turning my mind to mush.
I was vaguely aware Fergus turned the sleigh around as we headed back towards the castle.
I closed my eyes, dropping my head back. Malcolm at a Christmas Eve ball. I could well imagine how many women would be flocking around him. I tuned the gossip about him out in New York, or at least I tried. My life was work.
But now, things were different. He was no longer a colleague.
I didn't open my eyes and let the snowflakes melt on my upturned face. Pleasure hummed through me, but at the edge of my brain, reality rallied. What was the harm in letting the fantasy continue a while longer?