Page 66 of Seeds of Christmas
She moves her head closer to me, her breath warm against my neck. The firelight catches in her hair, turning the strands to copper and gold. I feel the ghost of her fingertips on my arm, tentative at first, then more deliberate as she traces small circles against my skin. The action stirs something primal inside me. I find myself shifting towards her.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice coming out rougher than I intended.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, but she doesn’t stop. Her hand slides higher, over my bicep, leaving trails of heat in its wake.
The room feels smaller suddenly. I turn to face her more fully, and the movement brings us even closer together. Her eyes are dark in the flickering light, her lips slightly parted.
“Rhi,” I murmur, my hand coming up to cup her face. My thumb traces the curve of her cheekbone, and she leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.
When she opens them again, her pupils are wide and wanting.
“I want to forget about today,” she says softly, her fingers now tracing patterns on my chest through my shirt.
My breath catches and blood rushes through my body. I can’t ignore how turned on I am right now. “You sure about that?”
She nods, but I can see the uncertainty warring with desire in her expression. I need to slow this down, make sure she really wants this despite my throbbing dick.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say, catching her wandering hand and bringing it to my lips. I press a soft kiss to her palm, then another to the inside of her wrist where her pulse is racing.
“I’m thinking,” she says, her voice breathless, “that I’ve spentsomuch time being careful. Being controlled. And right now, with you, I don’t want to be careful.”
“I’ve been trying so hard to be good,” I murmur. “But soon, there is no way I’m going to be able to keep my hands to myself around you Rhi.”
I slide my hand to the nape of her exposed neck.
Her hair is still in that damn ponytail—simple, practical—but the more time I spend looking at her, the more I love it. I rake my fingers through it, and she leans her head into my hand. I gently tug on her ponytail, forcing her to look up at me.
“We can take this slow,” I tell her, even though every nerve in my body is screaming at me to kiss her. “There’s no rush.”
“What if I don’t want slow?” Her eyes meet mine, bold and vulnerable all at once.
I smile, letting my fingers trail down the side of her neck, feeling her shiver under my touch. “Then we’ll go at whatever pace you need. But I need you to know” —I lean closer, my lips nearly brushing hers, —“I’m not going anywhere. We have all night. All week. However long you want.”
“Kiss me,” she whispers. “Please.”
I close the distance between us slowly, giving her every chance to change her mind. When my lips finally meet hers, it’s soft, exploratory. She tastes like the peppermint tea she had earlier, sweet and warm. Her hands come up to tangle in my hair, and I deepen the kiss slightly, my tongue tracing the seam of her lips.
She opens for me with a small gasp and suddenly the kiss transforms. All that pent-up tension between us—days of stolen glances and accidental touches—ignites.
I pull back slightly, both of us breathing hard. “Rhi?—”
Kissing Rhiannon Peirce is the best fucking feeling in the world.
“Don’t stop,” she says, and then she’s climbing into my lap, straddling me on the couch. The sudden weight of her, the heat of her body pressed against mine, makes me groan.
“You’re going to kill me,” I mutter, my hands settling on her hips to steady her.
She grinds down slightly, and I can feel her through the thin fabric of her leggings. “Good,” she says with a small smile that’s equal parts shy and wicked.
She kisses me again, deeper this time, her body melting into mine. Her hand reaches down, and she cups my hardening cock.
My eyebrows shoot up.
“Rhiannon Pierce,” I tut. “You naughty girl, what are you doing down there?”
She blushes deeply, pulling her hand away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what—I’ve never been so forward before.”
I groan, covering her hand with mine, pressing it more firmly against me. “Don’t apologize. I like it. A lot.” I search her face, needing to be sure. “But, Rhi, you went through a lot. Are you sure you want this? I need to be sure this isn’t just... reaction. After what happened today. Traumatic experiences can make people do things they might regret later.”
