Page 23 of Merry Little Christmas
I hummed, scratchy stubble stimulating my skin. “Even busting into your house and demanding that you play my Daddy?”
“You hardly demanded,” Cole laughed, vibrating my back. “Besides, I think it stopped being ‘play’ a long time ago.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t act shy, Peyton. We both remember what you said last night.” Cole’s hands palmed up and down my thighs, desire pooling in my groin. “Say it again for me.”
He teased between my legs, and all I could manage was a whimper. I could already feel the arousal dripping down, soaking the sheets beneath me. Before I could get self-conscious about it, Cole brushed my sensitive spot. “Say it again for Daddy,” he commanded.
“I love you,” I sighed. Deeming my offer acceptable, he stroked me in soft, slow circles.
“I love you, Peyton.” Cole increased the pressure, and I arched into the touch. “I always have.”
I moaned, throwing my head back onto his shoulder. Lips found my neck, fingers clenched my thigh and dipped lower, toward my entrance. Cole was right: those feelings had always been there in some form or another. My heart knew years ago what the rest of me hadn’t caught up to yet: I’d loved Cole Davis since the day we met.
He switched to stroking me with his thumb, sliding one finger into me, then two when I begged for more. He expertly found that spot inside me that—with the combination of his thumb—hurtled me to climax. That familiar urge built, my musclesquivering with the effort of holding it back. Oversensitivity slammed into me, but Cole didn’t let up. Instead, he held my legs in place, instructing me to push on my stomach.
“Daddy…” I panted. I writhed in his arms, a hard, throbbing bulge pressing into my back.
“Come on, pretty baby,” he urged, pinning my legs in place. “Make a mess for me.”
With one skilled move from his fingers, I did. My release splashed against his hand until he’d worked every drop out of me—and then he kept going. I fell limp in his arms, unable to even wiggle away from the overwhelming feeling. “Hands and knees, little one,” Cole ordered in my ear.
I slid onto my stomach, presenting myself to him ass-first. My arms turned to jelly, and my legs shook with the effort of holding me upright. Cole shifted behind me, gripping onto my hips and sinking his hard cock into me with one swift thrust. It pulsed inside me, and I rolled my hips over him.
Gathering my strength, I pushed myself onto my knees. Cole supported me with an arm around my waist, the other hand cupping between my legs. I cried out, still sensitive. My thighs quivered. “Daddy, please,” I begged, scrabbling at his arm. “I can’t take anymore.”
“Yes, you can, sweetheart,” Cole moaned. “You can give me one more.”
“Please…”
Cole’s free hand snaked up my chest, fingers wrapping around my throat. “Are you using your safeword, Peyton?”
I thought about it, but Cole gave one slow roll of his hips, catching that sweet spot inside me. The thought went out the window. My eyes rolled back in my head, arm curling around his neck. “No.”
Cole purred, tightening his grip. “Look at yourself, sweetheart.”
I pried my eyes open, and he directed my gaze toward themirror. Shit, the sight was porn-worthy. My skin dimpled where he grabbed onto me, reddened in the dim light from the bathroom. Cole’s hand glistened with my arousal. My stolen t-shirt was damp and wrinkled, crumpled out of the way so Cole could stroke me. The thin material left little to the imagination, including the way my nipples tented the fabric. The memory of Cole’s large hands squeezing my chest through my release tossed me into another orgasm. Andfuck, the way he was looking at me? It was like he wanted to bottle this moment and savor it for the rest of his life.
This man held me when I cried. He knew my deepest, darkest secrets.
He was everything.
I didn’t need any added pressure to make a mess that time, spurting over Cole’s cock as he shuttled into me. He growled out his release, a hot rush filling me and dribbling down my legs.
Cole rested on his heels, and I collapsed into his arms. Soft lips soothed angry skin, and he stripped me of the soiled t-shirt. Every muscle in my body quivered, wrecked and overstimulated beyond belief. Chests heaved, lungs fighting for every hard-earned breath. “I love you,” I panted. “I love you so much.”
A chuckle, and stubble-lined lips brushed Cole’s mark on my neck. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cole
Over the next few days,our routine didn’t consist of much outside of the bedroom. I’d have to return to work soon, which meant that I was spending every waking second with Peyton.
The bulk of my job consisted of organizing things: answering phone calls, handling payment schedules, and knowing who to send where. Most times, that wasn’t enough for me. I’d spent years working my way up, getting my hands dirty for upwards of twelve hours a day. Sitting behind a desk after all that was a hard thing to get used to.
But that was before Peyton came along. Now? I’d give anything to spend my days tangled up in them and until Ineededto get back to work, I was going to do exactly that.
