Page 59 of Missiletoe
I was well on my way to dying happy when he jerked his head back and shouted, “Oh my fucking god, I don’t have any condoms!!!”
He was really loud about it, so when he wiggled to get down, I let him go so I could rub my poor, ringing ears.
“What are we going to do??? Paris, this is a huge emergency. We can’t fuck without condoms because Baz gets around a lot. He uses protection, but still, I can’t risk you.”
I let the swell of jealousy at the reminder of Vix’s ex-harem members flow through me and right out the other side. I wasn’t going to let that kind of garbage mess up the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me.
Instead, I focused on what was hopefully about to happen to my cock and said, “I have condoms and lube. I prefer to top, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yes, I will absolutely marry you,” Vix said breathily, sounding like I’d offered him the holy grail or something.
He seemed to be lagging behind conversationally a bit. I’d asked him to marry me quite a while ago, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I had a fiancé.
“Good.” I could probably figure out what position he preferred as we went. I didn’t want to seem pushy. I wanted to be inside of him, like, yesterday, but bringing it up over and over again might make him uncomfortable.
“Thank god you have condoms, because I really need you inside me right now, but you seemed so nice and sweet and innocent and not the kind of guy who has condoms at all-”
“Why do people keep saying that about me?”
It must be the white-blond hair. Maybe it makes me look angelic or something.
Vix saying he needed me inside him had made me feel decidedly unangelic. At least I didn’t have to ask which sex role he preferred again. If Vix wanted me inside him, I was fully ready to comply.
“It’s because you’re perfect, Paris. Okay, so tomorrow we’ll go get tested so we can ditch the condoms soon and you can fill me with enough cum to make a porn star blush whenever you want. Sound good? Also—”
It sounded so good that there was no blood left in my brain for answering with words. Vix continued to talk, but I was pretty sure he was caught in a talking loop, so I pushed him against the wall and hitched him up until his legs were wrapped around my waist. Then I kissed him so he could stop talking if that was something he needed.
It was somethingIneeded, anyway. The kissing, not making Vix stop talking. I liked hearing him talk. He was such a happy little guy and so smart. I bet I was getting smarter just being around him.
Vix started doing something with his tongue that made all thoughts of smartness vanish.
Chapter12
Vix
Iwas lost in a world of Paris, his pecs, his eyes, and his everything else.
Every time we kissed it was like the Hallelujah chorus was going full blast in my mind, and everything not involving Paris fucked right the hell off.
Paris carried me over to the bed in the corner, which I felt was quite thoughtful. I wasn’t into wall sex as a first-time activity. Until I knew what he was packing, I wasn’t going to set my asshole up to write checks it couldn’t cash.
Don’t get me wrong, I have an amazing asshole. It’s been trained by some of the best dicks out there, and I knew how to get every last bit of joy out of it that I could, but folks, I am really, really small, okay? And even the most professional of assholes has to start slow when a new monster dick pops up in its life.
I thought about burrowing inside Paris’s sweater with him like I’d wanted to do before, but I decided to take it off of him completely. Smooshing my face against his chest would be nice, but having the option to pull back far enough to properly admire the view was a must.
And oh, what a view it was. I’ve seen some nice chests in my life—you can probably guess which ones—but Paris…Hold on, I need some water. You’re probably going to need some too. I’ll wait.
All set? Okay, here we go.
Paris’s chest was a fucking work of art. He must have done a ton of heavy lifting because every inch of him was sculpted to perfection. His skin was bronze, warm, and just the tiniest bit salty. Yes, of course I was licking him. I defy anyone to not put their mouth on that man’s gorgeous abs within seconds of seeing them.
Don’t do it though, just…don’t. I probably won’t handle it well.
Paris was laughing at me softly because I was like a kid in a candy store, and all I’d done was get his shirt off. I just couldn’t help myself. One minute I was licking his abs, and the next, my hands took over to explore the soft, pale hair sprinkling his chest. I was pretty sure I was humping him the whole time.
God help me, but once I got him out of his pants and saw those massive thighs of his, I was afraid I was about to die because I was pretty sure mere mortals shouldn’t be allowed to see such things of beauty without paying the ultimate price.
Paris ended my fun by pushing me away gently, and I thought he’d finally noticed exactly how extreme our size difference was. I’d sure as hell noticed after being up close and personal with him. At some point during my exploration, Paris had gotten me free of my cargo pants, and after he’d moved me away enough to get a good look at me, he stopped.
