Page 32 of Winter Wishlist
“Would you let us see you properly, pretty girl?” As Henri swirls the glass, his rings catch in the glow of the firelight. I ever so desperately want to see what those fingers and rings look like when they’re fondling my pussy, when they’re wrapped around Reid, stroking him.
Maybe he’d like to play with both of us at the same time.
The mere wickedness of that thought sends a powerful wave of arousal racing up on me so fast and hard, I bite down onmy lip. A giddy whimper crawls up my throat despite my best efforts, and I nod.
Reid makes a feral sound, the kind that resonates right through my cells, and slips his big palms around my waist to settle me on his lap properly now—repositioning my body so that my spine rests against his barrel chest. “Is this okay?” His lips seek out the slope of my neck. Strong fingers slip lower to catch the hem of my dress.
“Y—Yes.” A shaky exhale is my best offer in reply.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you looked earlier? With his hands and mouth on you?” He continues the slow, sensual assault on the side of my throat. Stubble rasping against my skin with each kiss he places over my fluttering pulse point. “I damn near lost my mind earlier, trying not to maul you, trying to stick to the rules and not have my hands all over you.” He hitches my dress up, tugging the fabric, until it bunches around my waist, and then guides my arms up so he can pull it over my head. “I promised to pretend in front of your ex. But I don’t think I canpretendI don’t want more tonight, sugar.”
The material hits the floor with a soft thud, leaving me in only a bra and panties. They’re not even a matching set. Purple lace covers my aching breasts. A black cotton thong barely conceals my drenched pussy. Yet, the way Henri feasts on the sight of me, and Reid makes a ragged noise at my back, I could be draped in haute couture and diamonds.
“I liked the game we played out there, for others to see.” With a tilt of my head, I arch my neck and open an invitation for him to do whatever the hell he wants. “But there’s nothingpretendfor me here either. I’m here tonight because this is what I want… with both of you.” As I say the words, my eyes slide to Henri, who licks his lips and promptly drains the last of the whiskey.
“The perfect present, indeed.” He muses. “I think I’d like to take a peek early, to see just how perfect and ready our gift is to be enjoyed.”
Goosebumps fly down my arms. My stomach caves. Reid’s hands slide across my breasts, pausing to cup and squeeze and pluck at my nipples through the lace. His noise of desire groans out when he discovers the dampness still there from when Henri had tormented me earlier. “Jesus,” he mutters, breathing harder against the side of my throat while shifting his hips beneath my ass.
Then he continues, moving south, mapping the slope of my waist, until he hits the creases of my thighs. My empty core clenches; I’m practically levitating with need and desperation to know his touch for the first time.
“Please…” It’s a barely audible whisper. I offer him the word while finally allowing myself to close my fingers around his forearms. The strength of him immediately obvious, with those corded muscles and veins of his. Hands that I so openly stared at earlier, while slumped on the floor of the bookshop, areright there,and I think I might die if he doesn’t give me more.
Henri gave me a tantalizing preview with those slow strokes over my panties.
“Go on, cowboy. Let me see just how messy our girl is.”
He strikes. Decisive and sure of what he wants—what we all want.
Hooking the side of my panties, he pulls them roughly to one side, and I hitch in a breath. My entire body quivers at how lewd this is, how much it’s turning me on, how entirely exposed I am compared to them both still having all their clothes on. And yet nothing in this moment feels like I’m being used or treated with anything but special attention.
It really does feel as though these two men are both relishing the opportunity to slowly unwrap me, to savor me, and make me theirs this Christmas.
“Such a pretty pussy,” Henri murmurs, eyes locked on the place where my swollen clit is exposed. “Do you want him to stroke you,ma petite chérie?”
Releasing a slutty little moan, I’m officially panting, writhing. No better than a wanton creature ready to hump this cowboy’s leg if that will get me off.
“Words, sweet girl.” Reid kisses my neck, then moves up to suck my earlobe into his mouth. “I love hearing your words.” His tone is a rasp, low and hot against my ear.
“Yes… touch me… I want you to touch me…”
“There she is.” He sounds so pleased with me, I don’t dare focus for too long on what his praise does to my body.
Using both hands, he gently parts my pussy lips, then dips a thick middle finger through my slickness. Pushing lower, he takes his time exploring along every ruffle and swollen intimate part of me, until he reaches my entrance.
“Mmmfuckkk. You’re drenched, sweetness.”
More of those whimpers and breathy moans come out of me.
Henri shifts closer; his voice has an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “Does it feel good when he pushes inside you?”
“Oh my god.”
Reid wastes no time, doing exactly as Henri asks.
We both groan in unison as he slowly presses a thick finger into me. It’s a struggle to focus, to keep my eyes open, everything feels so overwhelming with him at my back and his arms wrapped around me like this. To have his clever hands toying with me almost leisurely is absolutely sinful.
I want him to speed up, to make me come, but at the same time, I don’t ever want him to stop.
