The Scotch King (Scotch #1)

Once she came down from her high, I rolled her onto her back on the leather seat, her head resting by the door. Her legs automatically hooked around my waist, and she dug her fingers into my hair again.

I pounded into her, pinning her against the seat and the door. My hips worked, fucking her until she was sore. My cock slid through her overwhelming slickness, and I knew she loved my cock as much as I loved giving it to her.

I was gonna make her come again before we were done.

“Crewe…you feel so good.” She kissed the corner of my mouth, a film of sweat over the skin. “I love it when you fuck me hard.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Lovely.” My slacks fell below my ass, but I kept working, needing to give it to her hard enough to make her come again.

Now I didn’t give a damn if Dunbar heard.

She grabbed my ass and pulled me deep into her, slowing down the strokes to make them long and hard. My body rubbed against her clit again, stimulating the wet nub. “Yes…right there.”

I looked into her eyes, ready for the sight. “I’m gonna give it to you…”

“Good. I love it when you fill me…” She spoke with lidded eyes and a sex-crazed expression, looking like the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

She turned into such a vixen. The sex had always been good, but this was phenomenal. She was dirty, kinky. She wanted my seed deep inside her, to make her feel full. And I wanted to give it to her just as much.

She dragged her nails down my back. “Okay…I’m about to come. I want it, Crewe.”

I pressed my forehead to hers and closed my eyes, feeling the powerful explosion sweep over my body. It rushed over me in waves, making me feel both alive and dead at the same time. My cock twitched as it became harder, and then I felt the rush pass through me.

I came with a groan, filling her pussy with as much come as I could give.

Once she felt it, she moaned louder, coming with me. Her pussy guzzled all of it, gushing around me at the exact same time. “Crewe.”

“Lovely.”

We rode our high together, feeling the pure wonderfulness. Our bodies were slick with sweat and our hair was a mess, but neither one of us cared. We were both satisfied—for now. I kissed her upper lip and kept her pinned underneath me, wanting my cock to remain deep inside as long as possible.

She hooked her ankles together and kept me in place. “Let’s stay like this until we get home…”

She read my mind. I shifted her body until we were side by side, my softening cock still inside her. I stared at her beside me, watching her eyes close in exhaustion. Her green eyes were hiding behind her lids, but I watched her soft expression, the way her eyebrows relaxed once she began to drift away. Her makeup hadn’t smudged despite the sweat, and her curls remained in place despite how hard I yanked on them. Just as perfect as when we left, she looked beautiful.

Too beautiful.



When I woke up the following morning, London was still beside me. I was usually long gone before she woke up, heading out for a work out or getting down to business. But we were up late last night, so I allowed myself the luxury of sleeping in.

She was on her stomach, her head facing the other way.

I moved on top of her and pressed kisses down her spine, trailing to the top of her ass.

She sighed quietly in her sleep, in the land of dreams.

I hoped I was there too.

I got out of bed and headed downstairs for coffee and breakfast. It was a nice day, so I intended to spend my morning in the courtyard.

“Mr. Donoghue.” Dunbar emerged from behind me, coming out of the shadows of the massive castle.

I didn’t break my stride, recognizing his voice anyway. “Yes?”

“The Duchess of Cambridge is here to see you.”

I stopped in my tracks and turned around, unable to believe my ears. “Josephine is here?”

“I asked her to wait for you in the garden room. Or should I tell her you’re busy?”

Not even I would turn away the Duchess of Cambridge. It was beyond rude. “Did she say what she wanted?” After our conversation last night, it didn’t seem like there was much left to discuss—especially alone.

“No, sir.”

I crossed my arms over my chest then felt the thick stubble across my jaw.

Dunbar patiently waited for me to make a decision.

“Tell her I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” That would give me enough time to prepare myself.

“Yes, sir.” Dunbar turned around.

“Tell Marcus to prepare breakfast, coffee, and tea for the duchess.”

He kept walking. “Absolutely.”

I sighed as I thought to myself, suspecting I knew exactly what she wanted to discuss. I quickly darted back upstairs and got ready, brushing my teeth and taking a quick shower. Just when I was about to walk out, London stirred.

“Morning.” She sat up, her hair still slightly curly from last night.

I was in a hurry, so I didn’t break my stride. “I have a meeting. I’ll see you in about an hour.”

“It’s Sunday. Who works on a Sunday?”

I gave her a cold look. “Me. I work every day.” I walked out, annoyed she’d questioned me. I realized she wasn’t a staff member so her position was different, but I still didn’t like it. I headed downstairs and moved to the garden room on the west side of the castle. I wore slacks and a blue collared shirt, refusing to put on a suit when she dropped by unannounced.

I walked inside, seeing the sunlight filter through the room. The royal furniture had withstood hundreds of years, even though most of it had been refurbished or preserved. She sat in the armchair with her tea cup on the coffee table, steaming and untouched. She wore a bright blue dress, nearly the same color as her eyes. “Your Royal Highness—”

“Please don’t call me anything other than Josephine when it’s just the two of us.” She looked at me with eyes full of despair.

I sat in the other armchair, refusing to greet her with any kind of touch. The room filled with obvious tension, our old relationship eliciting memories for both of us. She stared at me with a look of longing, words practically written on her face.

I wanted this conversation to remain professional. Whatever her intentions were, I didn’t want to be caught up in a scandal. “I’m very busy this afternoon, so please get on with it.” I didn’t stop myself from being rude, but I stopped myself from insulting her.

She sighed before she spoke. “Henry and I are getting married in a month, and I just—”

“Having cold feet is natural. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not that…” She scooted closer to the edge of the armchair. She would touch me if she could.

“Then I don’t know what to say, Josephine.” We weren’t friends, so she better not expect me to give her advice. Her personal life was none of my concern. “Henry seems like a nice fellow. You know he’s wealthy and has a direct line to the throne. Sounds exactly like something you’d want.” I kept the bitterness out of my tone, but only barely.