Page 66 of Five Days of Christmas Spice

“Yes, Noel?” I squeak the words out as the vibe drums against my clit.

“Come, now.” He touches my shoulder, but the heat in his eyes scalds me, cementing me to him.

My entire body tightens and then launches like a rocket into hot surrender. The orgasm crashes through me, and I scream, wanting it to stop because the intensity is so damn much I think it’s going to swallow me whole.

I want to curl in a ball, but the rope bondage doesn’t make that possible.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

“Yeah, it was.” I pant, stretching my arms, the rope smooth against my wrists but tight.

“You’re a good girl for giving me what I want, Holly.” He kisses me tenderly.

I exhale as the vibe stops.

And then I scream as his mouth is on my pussy again.

“Noel!” I reach to touch him and can’t, but with the slightest bit of nip, his teeth are on my clit.

Shivers roll through me, and I’m lost in not quite pain, not quite pleasure, as he sucks my clit.

I want to run away from the intense sensation, but I scream as a sizzling rolling fire starts at my core, blooms upwards and blurs my vision.

I am ripped from my body, thrown against a wall of stabbing pleasure so intense that tears leak down my face.

“Noel, Noel,” I sob, reaching for him.

He keeps going, his tongue swirling over my clit, then his mouth is on my inner thigh.

I close my eyes, lost in the overdose of pleasure, my body aching. I feel Noel shift, so he’s over me, kissing my jaw.

My tears are hot, and I want to move, to wipe my nose. I want to hug this man and lay beside him and never move.

I want him.

His dark brown eyes meet mine, and a slow, sultry smile spreads across his face.

Oh, it can’t be true.

It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a fling.

A sob catches in my throat because I want to push down these feelings of desire and attraction, of how much I want this man beyond tomorrow.

The thought terrifies me.

“Good girl, Holly.” Noel is working my wrist free. The right one, then the left.

He rubs my leg until he gently removes the ties that bound my ankle. “You did very well.” Lifting my leg, he kisses my knee so tenderly it makes me sob more.

“It’s okay to let it out.” He moves to my left leg, quickly setting me free.

“I hate crying,” I whisper.

I’m overwhelmed by the sensations, the forced orgasms taking me under, this scene more intense in ways I didn’t expect.

How my body responds to this man is different than any other man I have been with, and that scares me because it has to mean something.

But what if it doesn’t mean anything? What if I never see him again?

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