Page 68 of Catching the Mistletoe

“God yes.”

“Take it off.”

With trembling fingers, I unhooked my bra and shrugged out of it. Mack’s gaze was worshipful, his hand cupping the soft curve of my breast, his thumb still circling my nipple. “Beautiful.”

He bent his head, his tongue sliding over my breast, his breath warm against my skin. Oh fuck, it was so good, so decadent and lovely and slow and perfect. Mack lavished attention on both my breasts, his teeth grazing my sensitive skin, his fingers digging into my hips.

I was a squirming, whimpering mess already, and he’d barely begun. “I want you to take your shirt off.”

He smiled, sitting up and tugging his shirt over his head. Oh fuck, he was a work of art, all muscle and sinew, his skin golden in the flickering candlelight. He laid back, his hazel eyes fixed on me. My hand was shaking a little as I reached out, trailing my fingertips over his chest, down to the ridges of his abs.

“Christ, Mack, you’re stunning.” Flattening my hand against his abs, I slid lower, feeling his cock through his jeans. Finally... finally, he let me touch him and it was just as amazing as I’d imagined, all thick and hard and perfect. “I want...”

“Tell me.”

“I want us to get naked.” We helped each other undress slowly, pausing in between to kiss and touch each other. When we were finally naked, I scooted close, pressing myself against Mack, my leg draped over his. Skin on skin, at last. “This is so good.”

“It is.”

We lay there, kissing and touching and teasing, the fire crackling in the background. Mack’s hand slid between my legs, his finger finding my clit with unerring precision. He swallowed my gasp with a kiss, lightly stroking me before slipping his finger inside me, his thumb rubbing my clit. Slow and lazy, just how I liked it.

“More,” I breathed, my hips shifting against him.

“Like this?” He added a second finger, his movements unhurried, his eyes on me. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

“You’re dripping wet.”

“Mmm.”

“That’s so fucking hot.” Mack rolled me onto my back, his hand still working its magic, his eyes fixed on my face.

“Kiss me, Mack. Please.”

He obliged, his lips soft and sweet, his tongue stroking mine. It was so lovely, so slow and languorous, and it was all I could do not to rock my hips against his hand. But he was in no rush, his thumb circling my clit, his fingers moving inside me, the pressure building and building. Then he moved away, breaking the kiss at the same time.

I whined, my hands fisting in the quilt. Mack smiled, his eyes hooded, his stubble scraping against my skin as he pressed more light, hot kisses down my neck, to my breasts. His tongue flicking out to swirl over my nipple. I threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him against me, the sensations exquisite. He went lower, his tongue tracing my ribs, his teeth scraping my hip bone.

“Yes,” I hissed, my hips bucking.

“Patience.” Mack’s voice was rough and low and my belly tightened. He kissed up and down my inner thighs until I was throbbing, aching, desperate for him.

“Mack.”

“I know.”

He pushed my legs wide, settling on the mattress between them, holding me so that I couldn’t have pulled away, even if I’d wanted to. Which I didn’t, of course. I felt his gaze like a caress and it made me quiver in delight.

“I want to taste you.”

“Yes. Please, god. Yes.”

I felt his hot breath first, then his tongue, tracing me, swirling over my clit, his thumbs digging into my thighs, holding me open. My back arched off the bed. “Oh, Christ, that is amazing.”

Mack hummed in agreement and the vibrations had me panting, my hips rocking against him. He teased and tormented, his tongue working its magic, his stubble scraping me. He didn’t stop, not for a second, not until I was gasping and moaning, my fingers twisting in his hair, my body shuddering. The fact that he’d never done this to me before, as though he’d been saving it up for just this moment, made it even hotter. Just when I felt the pressure building, the heat swirling inside me almost overwhelming; he pulled back, but only so he could move over my body, kissing me deeply, hungry for me.

I trailed my hands over his back, loving the way his muscles were bunched with tension. “Please. Mack, please.”

---