Page 58 of My Rival for Christmas

So my kitten has claws, after all.

It feels like a cleaver has cracked open my chest. Everything I’ve ever wanted to say to her now pours out of my every touch, my every graze. Her countering touches destroy me as I slip my tongue into her mouth, as I press her deeper into the mattress, rubbing my aching erection across her lower belly.

I don’t know how long this will last before Paige comes to her senses, but I’m going to make the most of this while I can—giving her everything that I am.

“Give me your tongue,” I order in a voice I hardly recognize. Low and gruff and full of hunger.

Dazed, Paige does as instructed, and I keep my eyes on her as I suck it into my mouth, groaning at the way her eyes roll into the back of her head. Her little moan vibrates in my mouth.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

She’s everything.

I’ve dreamt of this moment far too many times, and it still didn’t prepare me for the real thing, what it would be like to finally have her.

I pull back, staring at Paige with nostrils flaring. It’s almost too much.

From the molten way she stares up at me, those beautiful blueish-green eyes melt into two pools of unbridled desire, to the way her hands rove over me like she’s trying to memorize every inch of my skin. All the blood has rushed to my cock, and I almost come in my pants at the feel of her teeth grazing my jaw.

I feel like I’ve fallen into another dimension, one I don’t want to find my way out of.

This is where I want to exist for the rest of time. Me and Paige and this bed. The rest of the world can fuck off and carry on without us.

“Nate.” Paige squirms under me, impatience bleeding into her flushed features as I run my hands down her body, memorizing how soft and pliable she is under my palms. Her fiery red hair is spread out on the pillow like a fiery wreath. Her eyes are vibrant with a lust that easily challenges my own. She looks nothing short of every dirty fantasy I’ve ever concocted of her. “I need more.” She flexes her hips into mine, and I groan at the friction that shoots up my spine.

“What do you need more of, Princess?” I brush a wayward strand of red hair off her flushed skin, already knowing. I can see it in her lust-filled eyes, can feel her arousal pressed against my own as she continues to squirm. Our two wants entwined with each other. “I’ll give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask.”

But I want her to say it.

Need her to say the words I’ve been dying to hear for far too long. Since I knew she was the only person who would ever complete me.

“Nate.” She says my name again like it’s the only thing in her head. The only thing she can push out.

The smile I give her is downright sinful as I ignore the tightness in my balls. Enjoying having Paige at my mercy, spread out before me in my clothes. “If you can’t say it, you don’t get it.”

“You,” she bites out, her eyes flashing with pent-up frustration.

Good. Let her be frustrated. I want to keep feeling her claws.

I don’t know if I’ll get another moment to enjoy her, to tease her. I want to make this last. For as long as possible, I want to pretend she’s mine.

“Me?” I ask innocently, leaning in close to brush my nose against hers in a teasing touch. Paige strains to reach me, to steal a kiss, but I pull back before our lips can connect.Uh-uh.“What about me?”

“I need you, Nate,” she repeats, more frustration coloring her tone. “Give me more of you. Please, I need you to help me. You’re the only one that can fix this ache.”

The very short control I’ve had over myself snaps. Her words are too sweet, too tortured to put off any longer.

And I’m nothing but a starved man who has waited years for a taste.

Leaning back so I’m fitted between her thighs, I look down at her and growl, “Fingers, mouth or cock, Paige? How do I get to worship you?”

She looks at all three. My hands, my mouth, and my tenting cock. Giving each one a thorough once-over that has me wanting to decide for her. I’m about to just say fuck it, and give her all three, when she says, “I want your mouth.”

“Done.” This time when I lean down, it is to steal a kiss as I slip my hands under her—my—shirt. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” she starts, then I watch as she looks for a little bit of courage, some vulnerability crossing her face. “But I want your mouth on me like it was in my dream.”

I freeze, my fingers curling into her warm, tender skin. Did my brain short-circuit or did Paige just say…

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