Page 17 of Naughty & Nice
Chapter Nine
Oliver
Kissing Josie tastes different every single time.
Our first kiss was anxious and awkward until it switched to hot and hungry. Last night our kiss was fiery and angry, five years of missing each other twisted up in it. This kiss, it feels hopeful and needy, as if we’re both tired of holding back. Tired of being cautious or careful.
Her speech rushed out in shaking, hushed tones, her eyes sparking with fear and frustration. Those eyes always told me everything she was feeling. It’s the same even now. Josie is desperate to make things right and afraid I won’t let her even try. The truth is, I am just as desperate, but I put my heart on the line once before and it wound up broken.
“I never stopped loving you, Oliver. I never will even if you can’t love me back.”
Her words threaded with that fear and frustration are like a slug to the gut. As if she pulled the words right out of my chest and put them on display. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours teetering between what I felt for her then, what I felt when I lost her, and what I feel being with her now.
It was so easy to pin all the blame on her for so long. She was the one who said no, walked way, cut me from her life, and never looked back. It was easy to play the victim in the implosion of our relationship. But I've also spent some time thinking about the role I played in all of it.
I said last night that I asked her too soon. I knew when I was asking it was a mistake. Still, I asked. I forced her to make a choice for both of us. It was all or nothing for me because that’s what I wanted. What I needed. I gave no thought to her new career or the dreams I told her she could share with me. I was only thinking about my own dreams.
My dreams included her then—and they still do.
What we did or didn’t do, the mistakes we made, and the time we lost, it hurts but it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters to me more than her now. I feel her body press against mine, her hands rising to slide through my hair, her tongue tangling with mine. I don’t care about breakfast or builds or broken hearts right now.
It’s another gray day with heavy snowfall, but I barely notice. Between her legs is hot and I notch my aching cock there, my hands dropping to her thighs. I hoist her up, walking into the darkness of the alcove we’re in. It’s dark but I can hear jingle bells playing. I realize I walked us into a holiday display set up for photos with Santa.
We have the little alcove display to ourselves because it’s still early. I walk towards the big, tufted chair surrounded by a mountain of gifts. Bending, I settle her into the velvet chair, dropping in front of her. I pull at her wrap dress to bare her to me.
“Oliver! What if people come,” her voice carries no fear only need.
“Oh, some people are going to come, baby,” I promise as I bend my head to suckle at her left nipple.
We’re far away from the street and the constant loop of carols will hopefully mask our sounds. Right now, I don’t care either way. It’s been five years since I felt her wrapped around me and I need it. I’d fuck her in front of Santa and his elves if they were here. That’d be some Christmas Magic Santa would never forget.
Spreading her thighs wide on the chair, I bite at her nipple before moving to the right one. I suckle that too, biting hard until she cries my name, her hips wriggling on the seat. Even in the dim light I can see her skin go rosy as I bend to nip at her thigh, licking at the need dripping there.
Locking my eyes on hers, I lift a thick thigh over my shoulder. Bending towards her, I close my eyes, breathing deep her peppermint sweetness. Eyes back on her, I swirl my tongue through her folds, growling as the sugary stickiness floods my mouth. I suck hard, hungry for it, greedy for her pleasure, my teeth nipping at her clit.
Eating her was always a favorite way to please her. I loved to watch her wriggle and writhe beneath me, panting my name, clawing at my shoulders or pulling at my hair. Josie comes undone when I eat her sweetness and as I devour her now, I see it’s still the same. I suckle hard at her clit and she scores my back, fucking herself into my mouth.
“Oh...oh, please...don’t stop,” she begs hoarsely as I savor her.
I don’t stop, not until I pull at least three orgasms from her. I am greedier for her to come than she is. I can’t get enough of her sexy little sounds, her voice calling my name, or her sweetness on my tongue. I curl two fingers inside her, pumping slowly, trying to reach that rough spot deep inside her that drives her mad. When I do, she sits forward, pulling my head back to cry against my mouth as she comes a fourth time.
“Christ, that’s it, sunshine. Light up pretty for me, baby,” I urge her as I sit back to watch her shudder with her full-body orgasm.
Scooping her up, I set us back down, bringing her across my lap. I fix her clothes as I gather her close, peppering kisses over her pink skin. I am not finished with her—not even close—but I can’t do all I want to her out here. As I start to tell her we need to head back to the hotel, she slides from my lap.
More than once she has mentioned begging for me. For us. For a second chance at what we once had. I told her I wouldn’t beg again but I didn’t mean it. Seeing her drop to her knees, her eyes pleading, her lips swollen from my kisses, her face flushed from the orgasms I pulled from her, I know I would beg for anything she would be willing to give me.
“I said I would beg,” she says as she works at my zipper, “I meant it. I meant every single word, Oliver. I want you. I want us. A second chance, however we can have it, I want it,” her words are throaty, filled with heat and hunger as kneels before me.
“Show me how you beg,” I demand as I tunnel my fingers in her hair.
Before when I told her to touch herself in the shower, I could tell she liked it. Liked that I told her what to do, that I told her to do what would please me. It took everything in my not climb into that shower and take her then. It was hotter to watch her do as I demanded. We never played these games before, but I can’t say I don’t enjoy them now.
To show just how she begs, she sits properly on her knees, letting her crimson mouth pop open. Just the vision I dreamt of yesterday. Taking my cock out, I stoke myself slowly, not letting her have control. I trace her beautiful face, cupping her jaw and sliding my thumb into her mouth.
“Show me,” I repeat, stroking faster, watching her eyes sparkle with wonton need.
With Christmas carols humming and snow falling, she swirls her tongue around my thumb before sucking at it. My cock jerks, as if knowing he’s getting that treatment next. Her throat hums with a moan before I pull my thumb from her mouth. Like a good girl she keeps her mouth open, waiting, wanting, willing.
