Page 95 of Filthy Lovin Heroes

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” His chin rested on the top of my head. “How badly did he hurt you?”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done. He’s just a crazy stalker that will get what’s coming to him.”

My sniffles were punctuated by the fire’s crack and snap. We were silent for a few minutes, just savoring the peace between us.

“I’m sorry how I left,” Malcolm said.

Ahh. There it was.

The room was certainly big enough to fit not only an elephant but a whole damned herd of them.

“You certainly get points for originality. Usually, if a man is uninterested in seeing a woman again after a night together, he just never contacts her. Leaving the country to inherit a castle altogether is very thorough.” I pulled back, knowing I looked puffy-eyed. But really, it was hard to get some emotional distance when I was sobbing into his shirt. “If you’ll just show me to my room, I could use some sleep. And in the morning, I’ll find a hotel.”

Malcolm brushed a lock of my hair from my face. “Your eyes are the color of the moors in springtime.”

When he says shit like that, it’s hard to hate his guts.

“Thanks.” It was all I trusted myself to say.

“You can sleep here tonight.” He gestured to the four-poster bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Malcolm, you can’t be serious. This is an honest to god castle. The very definition means it has many rooms. I don’t want yours.”

“I’d like you to stay here. You have been through quite an ordeal. The detective filled me in.” At that his phone chimed in his pocket. “I must take this. Help yourself to something to sleep in from my things. And the bathroom is through there.” He waved towards another ornate wooden door.

Even though the place was centuries old, the bathroom was sleek marble with a giant copper tub. Come to think of it, this room was bigger than my previous dorm room. I soaked in a hot bath, dried myself off with the fluffiest towels ever, and borrowed Malcolm’s robe, which hung down to my ankles.

I left my clothes in a folded pile though I truly considered throwing them on the fire.

Out in the bedroom, Malcolm was making up a bed on the couch.

“Good, you didn’t fall asleep in the bath.” He turned to me and stared.

I’d towel dried my hair, and it hung just past my shoulders. My toes curled into the thick rug.

I wasn’t sure where to look. There was only one word to describe Malcolm’s expression—hungry.

He came to stand before me. His eyes never left my face as he reached for the belt of my robe. He untied it, letting it fall to my feet.

I should’ve been cold, but my skin was warm from the bath. I wasn’t embarrassed, I felt like a goddess.

I closed my eyes. If this was a dream, please don’t let me wake.

I wanted to stand here forever.

When I opened them again, I’d be back in New York alone in my bed listening to the sleet hit the windows.

Malcolm set his hands on my shoulders then skimmed them over my breasts, ribs, and belly.

I opened my eyes. Malcolm knelt before me. His lips dipped lower.

“Ever since that night in your room, I’ve been longing to taste your virgin pussy.” His fingers danced over my neatly trimmed bush to my pussy lips. I couldn’t help it. I widened my stance. I craved his touch too much.

“Too late. You took care of that.” My fingers gripped his hair.

“Complaints?”

“I came so many times, and so hard, I almost blacked out. But no. No complaints, Malcolm.”

---