Page 67 of Catching the Mistletoe

“No?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want them. You know I’ve got the IUD and if you’re...you know...”

“I’m clean.”

“Great. Then I don’t want condoms. If that’s alright with you.”

“No. That’s not alright with me.”

“What?”

“It’s whatever you say, goes, remember? It doesn’t matter if it’s alright with me.”

“Right. Of course. Well, that’s what I want.”

“Okay then.” Without another word, he reached across the table, wrapped his fingers around my wrist, and tugged. I went willingly, slipping into his lap when he pushed his chair back from the table. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, then pulled back, brushing my hair back from my temple. “How do you feel?”

“Hot and tingly, and a bit anxious.”

“What are you anxious about?”

Oh god. Time to woman up, I guess. “That you won’t like it.”

“I’ll like it.”

“But—”

“I’ll like it, Arabella. Trust me.”

“Okay.”

“Kiss me.”

I did. Burying my fingers in his hair, slanting my mouth across his and opening my lips to him. My blood was already humming, but I could tell from Mack’s touch that he was going to take his sweet time. Knowing he’d let me set the pace if I really wanted it quicker had me sinking into him, revelling in how hot and lovely it all felt.

Wrapping his arms around me, Mack pushed to his feet without breaking the kiss and carried me to the bed, laying me down with exquisite gentleness. Settling next to me, he cupped my cheek in his hand. “You’re so beautiful.”

I could have purred. Mack trailed his fingertips down my neck, over my collarbone and down to the curve of my breast. His eyes were dark and watchful, and fuck, I was already so hot and bothered. I shifted my hips closer to him, but he just smiled. “Patience, Little Dove.”

“What if my way isn’t patient?”

“Is that what you really want?” He ran his hand down my side, toying with the hem of my knitted sweater.

No, it wasn’t what I really wanted. Of course it wasn’t. I shook my head.

“I didn’t think so.” He slid his hand under, his fingertips skating over my heated skin. “You want it slow.”

“I do.”

“That’s what you’ll get, then.”

Oh fuck, the way he was looking at me had me throbbing already. I lifted up so he could pull the sweater over my head, tilting my head back when he leaned in to press hot little kisses along my neck. His stubble scraped deliciously against my skin and I moaned, threading my fingers through his hair.

Mack cupped my breast, his thumb rubbing over my nipple through my bra. I couldn’t help arching into him, seeking more friction. “Easy, Little Dove. We’ve got all night.”

“Oh yeah,” I said breathlessly. “We’ve got all night.”

His eyes blazed, and he bent his head, his tongue flicking out to trace the edge of my bra. “You like this?”

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