Page 43 of Under the Mistletoe
“Oh, hey…”
I think life as I knew it left my body. My eyes are wide, looking over every fucking inch of her beautiful body. She’s playing with me and completely cheating.
I swallow the liquor quickly as she looks at me over her shoulder from where she stands in my kitchen.
“What are you wearing?” Is that appropriate to ask? I mean, I already know the shirt she’s wearing is mine. I gave it to her to wear with the sweats. But she isn’t wearing sweats. Just the shirt, with her black lacy underwear underneath and her hair pulled up in a messy topknot that does something to my insides. As she stands on tiptoes to reach a glass from the overhead kitchen cabinets, I feel my willpower about to snap.
She lifts an eyebrow, smirking. “What you gave me.”
I step toward her slowly, stalking my prey, wondering which way to take her, because I’m now ravenous and not for fucking food.
Pushing my chest against her back, I feel her shiver. I lower my lips, kissing her neck, settling in the spot where her neck meets her shoulder and I hear her sigh as she leans her head back, resting on my chest.
“You look good in my clothes…” My hands skim up her waist, feeling her soft skin under my fingertips.
“Are you hungry?” Her breath hitches, and I lower my hand around her waist, my fingers edging down her lower stomach, and I slide my hand under her lace.
“Very…” I can barely breathe. I’m pulling in oxygen through my nostrils as my lips trail across her shoulders, the shirt falling off her body a little as I dip my hand lower, finally feeling her wet center.
“There’s dinner for us.” Her words are mere whispers as she moans while I circle her clit.
“Mmmmm… I want to eat something else.” With my other hand, I grip her hip, pull her flush with my pelvis, and grind her ass into me. She whimpers, the sound shooting me right in the balls.
“You do?” She swallows as I skirt my lips across her bare shoulder, and her body liquifies in my hold as I continue to circle her clit. I know her knees are feeling weak.
“Mmm-hmmmm…” is all I can manage as her breath quickens and her hands grip on to the kitchen counter as my finger eases into her center and she lets out a little gasp.
“I… I… Oh my…” she moans as she turns in my arms and her lips hit mine. As she does, I pull down her panties.
“Lean against the counter…” I tell her as she takes a small step back, her body leaning as I asked, and I lower, dropping to my knees.
“Oh God…” Her hands move to her sides, where she grips on to the counter, and I lift her thigh, placing it over my shoulder. I look at her glistening, her skin flushed, her pussy perfect.
“Fuck, I’m starving.” Leaning forward, I put my lips on her and close my eyes before they roll out of my head in pleasure.
I hear her hiccup a breath as I run my hands up the backs of her thighs, putting my hands on her ass and pushing her pussy to my mouth. My tongue explores before I find a rhythm she leans into, and I look up, seeing her head fall back, her back curved, her perfect tits pushed out as I suck on her clit.
She moans, so I do it again. Over and over as her hips start to move against my mouth.
“That’s it… Fuck, you are perfection,” I tell her before I continue my assault. She tastes like heaven, her skin soft against my lips. One of her hands moves to the back of my head, pushing me forward, wanting more, so I give it to her.
My movements become quicker, my hold on her bruising as her hips speed up and I suck a little harder.
“Oh shit… Oh shit… I’m coming… I’m coming!” She’s breathless, and then I feel her pussy quiver in my mouth, and I tease her clit through her orgasm, drawing it out, making her legs shake until she leans back on her elbows against the bench and her body slackens.
I grin against her skin, kissing her inner thigh, taking my time before slowly moving upward, caressing her body with my lips, her taste now my favorite. Curving my lips around her nipple, I look up at her briefly, our eyes catching, and see the look in her eye that’s equal parts lust and awe-filled, and I realize, no matter what I try to do, it’s futile. Because this can’t be casual.
This is not a fling. This is something real.
And it scares the hell out of me.
18
Jessica
I stretch out in bed, my limbs deliciously sore. The blinds are open, the bright morning light striking through the room, almost blinding me and bringing me crashing back to reality. Looking out, I see the sky blue, the sun high. The snow has stopped and mostly melted away, and the trees are now back to their normal green. We’ll be flying home today.
As I snuggle back into the warm, soft sheets that are wrapped haphazardly around me, I feel Donovan’s hot, naked body resting against mine. His arm is heavy where it’s draped across my waist, and I stare at the ceiling, thinking over the last twenty-four hours.
