Page 28 of Tied Up In Tinsel
“Jesus,” she whispered, her voice catching.
“You like that?” I murmured against her, lips grazing over her pulse. “You like when I do this?”
I teased her with the tip of my tongue, dragging it slow across the side of her throat. She nodded, moaning, and the sound had me hard enough to ache. I kissed her again, then grazed her skin with my teeth—gentle, careful, enough to make her gasp.
Her scent filled me, warm vanilla and sugar. It was heady and addictive. Sweet and sinful. Like Christmas, but better. Like temptation I had no intention of resisting.
My cock throbbed beneath her touch, and I couldn’t take the distance anymore. I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. Her pupils were blown wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed. She looked wrecked and gorgeous and ready to ruin me.
“Wrap your hand around my cock, Red,” I whispered, my voice rougher than I meant it to be. “Don’t hold back now.”
Her smirk deepened, and with a confidence that nearly made me lose it, she used both hands to unbutton my jeans. Her fingers brushed my skin as she freed me, and I hissed out a curse.
“Fuck.”
The warmth of her hand wrapped around me was enough to steal my breath, every slow stroke teasing me closer to the edge while holding me maddeningly back. I needed more.
More pressure.
More speed.
More Annie.
But I also needed less—less fabric separating me from the rest of her.
I shifted upward, keeping one knee pressed into the couch cushion and the other foot planted firmly on the floor. Annie’s eyes dropped to my erection, her gaze lingering like she was studying every inch of me. Then, with that mischievous, wicked grin of hers, she tilted her chin back up and met my eyes.
The grin nearly undid me. God, those pouty lips of hers—always so soft, so tempting—I wondered how they’d look stretched around my cock, how she’d taste, how she’d sound.
A low, hungry sound escaped me as my own hand wrapped around my shaft, stroking in long, steady motions while my mind painted every possible fantasy of her mouth on me.
“I hope you’re thinking about me while you do that,” she murmured, her voice soft but sultry, a challenge hidden beneath the tease.
My eyes locked with hers, and I gave a sharp nod. “Do you want to know exactly what’s going through my mind?”
Her lips parted as she breathed out, “Yes.” She leaned forward, so close her mouth hovered almost at the perfect height, her lashes fanning as she looked up at me.
Then, without breaking eye contact, Annie tugged at the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor in a careless sweep. Her bra—a delicate lace in a soft Christmas red—was sheer enough to leave absolutely nothing to my imagination. My chest tightened, my cock twitching in my hand as her nipples pressed insistently against the thin fabric.
She was flushed, a warm, rosy pink climbing her chest and throat, betraying just how turned on she was. It made me ravenous, that proof of her desire, of how much she wanted this. Wanted me.
I wanted her too.
“I was imagining,” I said, voice low, rough, “what those lips would look like wrapped around me. Wet. Sucking. Taking me deep until I couldn’t think straight.”
Annie’s lips curved as she bit down softly on the bottom one. She reached forward, sliding her hand over mine, halting my rhythm. With deliberate patience, she pulled my hand away and let it fall uselessly at my side. Then, she wrapped her own fingers around my cock. Her touch was smoother, hotter, more intoxicating than I’d even dreamed.
“Funny,” she whispered, shifting on the couch until she was directly in front of me, perfectly poised. Her grip tightened around me, stroking once before holding me steady. “Because I was thinking the same thing.”
My breath caught. “About your lips on me?”
Her eyes glimmered with challenge. “That… and what you’d taste like.”
Before I could respond, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to the tip, her lips soft and wet as they parted. A groan ripped from my throat, deep and helpless, as her tongue flicked against the most sensitive part of me.
The warmth of her mouth was everything. Her tongue circled slowly, teasing, coaxing, while her lips created that perfect pull of suction that made every nerve in my body light up.
“Jesus, Annie…”
