Page 31 of Sweet Boys Love Christmas
Perfect tits and hips and ass and everything.
Her blond hair splays over my pillow like it belongs there.
I’m lost in her.
She has no idea how thoroughly I’m wrapped around her finger.
As she shatters around me, I vow to make her do it again and again. As many times as she’ll let me.
“Luke.” She grips my biceps. “You feel so good.”
Fuck, it’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.
“I was fucking made for you.” I roll my hips, keeping my rhythm steady. “You realize that?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Oh, God. Yes.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, and fuck if she doesn’t orgasm again.
When she opens her eyes this time, they’ve gone soft. Vulnerable.
I kiss her. Long, slow, intimate. I can’t get enough of the taste of her. “I’ve got you,” I whisper between kisses. “I’m going to take such good care of you, baby.”
“Mhm.” She scratches her nails against my back, marking me.
Sitting back on my heels, I push her legs up until her knees practically kiss her breasts. “Look at you,” I croon, diving back in to smatter kisses over her chest. “So flexible. So open for me.”
I thrust again and again, and when her eyes roll back, I gently grasp her cheeks. “Open those eyes for me, baby. Let me see you. I want to see you when you come again, got it?”
“I c-can’t,” she pants. “T-Too—it’s too much.”
Hit with a wave of determination, I smirk. I can get her there. With the way she responds to my touch? I have no doubt.
Besides, she did tell me that she wants to be sore tomorrow.
When she shatters around me again, I fall with her this time. As I slow my strokes, I bear more of my weight against her, but not all of it. I need to be closer. Skin to skin. We’re both damp with sweat, but I don’t care. It’s a sign of a job well done.
Smoothing her hair off her forehead, I take her in. Blue eyes and pale skin with just a few tiny freckles on her nose. She’s so fucking beautiful.
She cups my jaw, rubbing her thumb over my bottom lip. I can’t help but wonder if she’s studying me, memorizing me, the way I am her.
I don’t want to let her go, but I need to get rid of the condom.
I allow myself another minute before I slip out from between her legs and get up.
“Stay there.” I put up a firm hand as I back away. “I’ll be right back.”
Since we’re alone in the house, I cross the hall into the bathroom naked and wrap the condom in toilet paper and throw it away. I wash my hands, then wet a washcloth with warm water.
When I return, Bertie is exactly where I left her, but as I drink her in, she covers her breasts with her arm.
I pull it away. “Don’t get shy on me now. Let me see you.”
Her cheeks pinken, but she doesn’t put her arm back. Her eyes instead drop to my dick.
“I thought you came.”
“I did.”
