Page 146 of Going Viral for Christmas
With a growl, my tongue strokes her pussy once, slowly, making her shake, then circles where she’s trembling. My rhythm builds—flick, press, swirl—until her hips twitch and chase me, greedy for more.
Pulling back to make her whimper, Ava begs me to come back. “No, Soren, please don’t stop.”
Lifting my gaze, chin slick, I drag my thumb in maddening circles just shy of where she’s throbbing. “You beg so sweet.”
I flatten my tongue and lap at her needy cunt. Ava’s dripping, and every stroke tastes like a sin I’d die to keep committing. I dip, torturing her entrance, fuck her shallow with my tongue before pulling back up to suck her clit into my mouth. Her cry rips through the air, desperate, and my cock throbs so hard it hurts.
“Yes, baby, sing for me,” I moan against her, the vibration setting her off again, her thighs clamping around my head as though she’ll never let me go. A deep and guttural groan slips out of me as I lick relentless strokes over her soaking wet heat.
“Oh my, God, Soren.” Ava’s writhing on the table, muttering curse words and pleading in the same breath.
My gaze holds her stare as I wrap my lips around the little bundle of nerves that’s making her fall apart. Her thighs try to close. Not fucking happening. I pin her open and feast.
“You’re mine right now,” I thunder against her skin. “This body. Those sounds. This flavor. Fuckingmine, Bells.”
Ava cries out again, hips jerking, thighs trembling, breath shattering, and?—
She comes on my mouth.
On the table.
Covered in icing.
Snowed the fuck in.
And I’m not done.
Not even close.
Ava’s breath stutters in and out as I rise, licking her from my lips like I cleaned the plate—I mean, really, I fucking did, and it was the most delicious meal.
Her thighs are still parted for me, slick and quivering. She’s watching me, unsure whether to beg for mercy or more.
Both are welcome.
I run my hands up the insides of her thighs, relishing in how her body twitches beneath my touch—hypersensitive and raw.
“I could keep you here, on this table, all day.” My cock strains against my waistband. “Laid out. Dripping. Shaking. You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
Ava’s only answer is a whimper.
I lean over her, bracing my forearms on either side of her head, my voice a rasp now. “I’d bury myself inside you right now, Bells—let that needy pussy swallow my cock until nothing else exists. But I didn’t plan for this, and I don’t have protection.”
Ava’s eyes widen, and she shifts beneath me, her gaze darting anywhere but mine. One hand lifts. She’s about to tuck her hair behind her ear, but then drops it uselessly to her side.
“I don’t have any either,” she says, the words barely above a whisper. “I… don’t have sex. I mean, I haven’t had sex.”
“You’ve never had sex,” I blurt out before I can process what she said.
“No, Ihave,” she quickly recovers. “But it’s been… awhile.”
My heart splinters. For all her confidence and quips, these innocent moments, in her cabin, are the truest thing she’s ever given me. Honesty draped in insecurity. And she’s trusting me to hold it gently.
My hands frame her flushed face. “We don’t have to, Ava.” My voice changes to a warm, husky tone. “I could spend the entire snowstorm between your thighs and making you come over and over, and be totally fine.”
Those honey-gold eyes dive into mine, swimming with emotion.
I smile. “Don’t need anything else. Justyou.”
