Page 27 of Holidate Scramble

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"That's it," he encouraged, watching me with dark eyes. "Show me what you need."

I adjusted the angle slightly, taking him deeper, and he groaned. "Just like that, Piper. God, you're perfect."

His words, combined with the building pressure inside me, pushed me toward the edge. He must have sensed it because his hand slipped between us, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. The additional stimulation was all it took to send me spiraling into another intense orgasm that had me crying out his name.

As I clenched around him, his control finally snapped. In one fluid movement, he flipped us over, pressing me into the mattress as he drove into me with renewed urgency. The change in position allowed him to go deeper, hitting a spot inside me that had me gasping with each thrust.

"Piper," he groaned, his face buried in my neck. "You feel so good. So tight, so wet..."

I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him on, meeting each thrust with one of my own. His movements grew more erratic, his breathing harsh against my ear. When he lifted his head to look at me, the vulnerability in his eyes took my breath away.

"Come with me," he urged, his hand slipping between us once more. "One more time, Piper. Together."

His fingers circled with expert precision, and impossibly, I felt myself building toward yet another release. This one was different—slower, deeper, more all-encompassing. When it hit, it wasn't the sharp, bright explosion of before but a rolling wave that seemed to go on and on.

"Rhett," I gasped, clutching at his shoulders. "Oh god, Rhett..."

He followed immediately, his body tensing above me, my name a groan torn from his throat as he found his own release. For several long moments, we stayed like that, connected in the most intimate way possible, our hearts racing in tandem.

Finally, he eased himself down beside me, keeping one arm around my waist as if afraid I might disappear. His free hand cupped my cheek, his touch gentler than seemed possible from hands so strong.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice still husky from exertion.

"More than okay," I answered honestly. "That was... wow."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Eloquent."

"You've effectively short-circuited my brain. Eloquence is not currently available."

He laughed, a warm, rich sound that I felt as much as heard. "Fair enough."

We lay in comfortable silence for a while, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. I studied his face in the soft lamplight—the strong line of his jaw, now relaxed; the crinkles around his eyes that deepened when he smiled; the small scar near his right eyebrow that I'd noticed before but never this close.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, catching me studying him.

"How did you get this?" I traced the scar with my fingertip.

"Fell off my bike when I was ten. Hit a rock on the way down." He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Not a very exciting story."

"I like it anyway." I settled more comfortably against him. "I like learning these little pieces of you."

His expression grew more serious. "What we did just now...wasn't part of our deal," he said finally, echoing my earlier thoughts.

"No," I agreed, my fingers playing with the hair on his chest. "It wasn't."

"So what happens now?"

I considered the question carefully. This wasn't just sex—it was a fundamental shift in whatever was growing between us. "I'm not sure. I only know I'm not ready for it to end."

Relief flickered across his features. "Neither am I."

"Then we figure it out as we go?"

He nodded, pulling me closer. "As we go."

I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms around me felt like shelter, like safety. Not the safety of something predictable, but the safety of being seen, being wanted, being chosen.

Outside, snow began to fall, dusting the harbor with white. Christmas lights twinkled on distant boats, and somewhere, faintly, holiday music played from another cottage. The world beyond this room seemed distant, unimportant. For now, at least, the complications of tomorrow could wait.