Page 148 of Going Viral for Christmas
She’s sogoddamntight I feel baptized. I’m gripping the edge of the table to keep from collapsing on top of her as a man who’s just seen God and blacked out from the holiness.
Shit, I’ve barely moved an inch.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss through my teeth. “You’re—” I break off with a groan. I’m desperately trying to keep my shit together. But with how tight she is and me feeling her bare, it’s damn near impossible. “Your pussy is going to murder me, Bells.”
Ava moans beneath me, arching her hips, trying to take more of me, andnope, this is officially the hardest thing I’ve ever done—holding back.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so good, baby.” I brace a hand beside her head while the other grips her hip. “You feel that stretch?”
She nods, whimpering.
“That’s me, Bells. All of me. Just like you wanted, but if I don’t start moving soon, I’m gonna come like a goddamn virgin.”
“Then fucking move,” she breathes.
Deep. Possessive. Thrusts meant to mark a woman from the inside out.
The table creaks beneath us, the fire crackles in the corner, and the snow keeps falling, blanketing the world outside.
I hope to God it never stops. Let the roads shut down. Let the power go out. Let the whole damn world freeze over, because I want to spend the rest of my life buried inside this woman.
Ava moves against me, crying out my name, and the sound creeps down deep into my bones.
This is more than sex.
It’s deeper. Wilder.
Beautiful.
This is forever. It’s already written into the stars, and fuck, I’mgone.Lost in the woman who undid me with a look, dismantled me with a kiss, and is now holding every part of me without even realizing it.
Out there, the world is buried in snow.
But in here, it’s her. Me. And every filthy, worshipful thing I’ve been dying to give her.
“Harder,” she pleads. “Fuck me deep.”
All reserve inside mebreaks.My pace goes brutal—months of tension, lust, and unsaid words, exploding into every thrust. Ava arches, clutches at me like I’m her tether to this earth, and I give her everything. Faster. Punishing.
The table beneath us groans, legs squealing against the floor, and then—crack. Splinters. We crash down in a heap of limbs and breathless curses, still moving, still chasing it, until the world shatters right along with us.
Ava screams out, her climax ripping through her in waves, and I follow, guttural and crude, pouring everything I’ve been holding back into the feral ruin of us. Neither of us stops, not until the aftershocks leave us trembling and trapped among broken wood and scattered plates.
Her hair’s a wild halo across the destruction, her chest heaving, her lips swollen.
I kiss her messy, still buried inside her, and laugh hoarsely against her mouth.“Oops. Guess that table couldn’t handle what I’ve been holding back for a year. If this is what happens when I finally get to touch you, imagine what’s coming next.”
Ava giggles, covering her face with her hand. “I’m not sure my house will survive you.”
Twenty-Five
AVA
Soren and I are spread out on the thick rug in front of the fire as a pair of satiated heathens in a cabin sex montage.
I’m sticky. Sore in places I didn’t know couldbesore. My thighs tremble every time I shift. I am positively glowing—and not from the heat of the flames licking across the hearth.
Nope.
