Page 14 of Merry Little Christmas
And with a slight turn of my head, I sealed my mouth over theirs. They whimpered, and I happily swallowed the noise. With a deep inhale through their nose, they folded.
Pressing hard against my lips, Peyton’s arms wrapped tight around me. Nails dug into my back, cutting deep, red lines into my skin. I moaned, sweeping my tongue across the seam of their mouth. They happily opened up, and desire tightened my gut. This wasn’t just a kiss anymore. I wasn’t going to stop until I unraveled Peyton McKauley piece by piece.
Without breaking the embrace, I lifted them into my arms. They gasped but wrapped their legs around my waist, plunging their tongue into my mouth to chase the new angle. I’d have been happy to hold them all day long but when they ground their hips against my rapidly thickening cock, my brain was no longer running the show.
I carried them to the nearest surface: the dining room table. Setting them on the wood, one hand curled around their hip while the other cradled their neck, as if I could take the weight of the world off their shoulders. Peyton tugged with their legs, bringing me flush against them. My cock throbbed at the heat there. I guided them to lie back, keeping our lips connected. My hands slipped beneath their t-shirt, rough, calloused palms over smooth, flawless skin. They sighed,arching into my touch.
Getting an idea, I unraveled the tie on the too-big pajamas, and the fabric easily fell away, pooling on the floor. Our fingers wove together on my shoulder, and I guided that hand between their legs. I took a step back to admire the sight. Shit, there was already a visible damp spot on their underwear. “Show me what you were doing in the shower, Peyton.”
Chapter Nine
Peyton
Heat rushed to my face,and I wasn’t sure whether it was from shame or arousal.
Possibly a bit of both.
Cole stood back, lust-darkened eyes fixed on my crotch. Perhaps Ishouldhave been ashamed of how wet I was but with the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t find it in me to care. My fingers found that damp spot as he watched with rapt attention. He licked his lips, and I arched into my palm. As bratty as I was, I was submissive through and through. If he wanted a show, I was going to give it to him.
Of course he’d caught me in the shower. I’d had to be quiet then, but that went out the window now. Adding pressure with my fingers, I moaned, and Cole spit out a curse. His thumbnail found its way between his teeth, and that was the only indication that the sound had any effect on him. My head fell against the table with athud. God, my little jack-off session in the shower didn’t come close to this. Knowing that Cole was watching me had me on edge in no time.
I let out a low groan of pleasure, slowing my pace to carry me away from the inevitable orgasm.
When Cole blanketed my hand with his, I happily removed mine. He rubbed his thumb against my spot, free hand slipping beneath my shirt, wrapping around my waist and hauling me against him. Rough skin lit up nerve endings that I never knew existed. “Lose it, Peyton,” he growled.
The shirt cleared my head and fluttered to the floor. Cole lunged, attaching his lips to my neck. I sighed and dropped my head back, offering more skin for him to taste—more for him to mark. The spot heated, blood pooling under the surface as he sucked a bruise into my skin. More pressure from his thumb, and my hips rolled over the digit, chasing that delicious friction. My chest heaved with each hard-earned breath. “I need a color, Peyton,” he rasped, voice thick with desire.
“Green.” My hand slid down my body, covering his hand and pushing down. Whimpering, I pleaded, “Please, Daddy.”
My breath hitched. I hadn’t meant to say that, but Cole obeyed my silent command for more. My hips rocked up to greet his palm, hurtling me toward climax faster than I would have cared for. He watched me hump his fingers, gaze nearly predatory. “Say it again,” he commanded, bearing down with his thumb.
I yelped. “Please, Daddy!”
With a primal snarl, Cole ripped open the seam in the fabric, plunging one finger to the knuckle. Crying out, I begged for more, and he granted me a second. Curling those digits to hit my sweet spot, he hauled me close, throwing his tongue into my mouth. I swallowed it eagerly, moaning at the sensation. My hips rocked, fucking myself on his fingers. Hands grappled for any part of me they could reach, seeming to be everywhere all at once. My lungs burned, desperate for oxygen.
Then Cole eased into a slow, languid kiss. He took his time, tongue mapping out every corner of my mouth and matching the rhythm of his fingers.
His thumb brushed the band of my binder,an unspoken question in a single, gentle touch. In place of words, I took his hand and moved it down to my waist. He hummed, and happily agreed.
Shit, he hadn’t even hesitated. Instead, Cole turned his attention to my neck, deepening his mark. Nips and sucks painted a polka-dotted path down my chest. He expertly bypassed the constricting fabric covering me and continued over my stomach, tongue dipping into my belly button. I tilted my hips, needing more.
I’d never gone from zero to one hundred like this before; had never flipped from being a nervous wreck to being so desperate that I’d kill to have Cole’s mouth between my thighs. As if he could read my mind, he dropped to his knees, and my legs practically fell farther apart in invitation. Teeth and tongue teased up my thigh, close to where I needed him but miles away all at once. Green eyes, darkened with lust, watched me expectantly, waiting.
“Please, Daddy,” I huffed, tangling my fingers in his hair and urging him closer to the throbbing.
“Christ.” A low rumble vibrated up from his chest, and he licked my skin to soothe the bites left behind. “I want you to say that, and only that, for the rest of my life.”
My response was nothing more than a cry. I didn’t have time to protest the loss of his fingers as Cole dove for his prize, licking right where I wanted him. I snapped a hand down to the back of his neck, fucking his face until I rode the edge of my orgasm. “I’m close,” I whimpered, but he didn’t let up. In fact, he doubled down. Saliva mixed with my arousal, dripping to the wood beneath me and creating a slick glide for my skin.
All too soon, I crashed into my release with a shout that rattled the windows. Waves of pleasure surged through my veins, blood rushing in my ears. My muscles quivered, arm aching with the effort of holding me upright. Cole licked, lapping up every drop until I trembled like a leaf from the oversensitivity.
And then he kept going. I cried and writhed beneath histongue, but he worked me over until pleasure began to build once more.
Still coming down from the high, I decided that I was far from finished. With a tight grip in his hair, I hauled him to his feet and into a bruising kiss. Weak, I let him hold me while my other hand grappled for his sweats. He was hard as a rail, and my core tightened at the prospect of that thick cock filling me.
His pants hit the floor, and I wrapped my fingers around his shaft. Thumb brushing the drop of clear liquid, I massaged it into his skin, elated when he shuddered in my grip. I squeezed, and Cole broke the kiss, throwing his head back with a growl. “Christ, Peyton.”
“Fuck me, Daddy,” I whined, sliding closer to the edge of the table and lining him up with my entrance.
