Page 63 of Tangled In Tinsel & Knots
I need to be under the blanket, then I don’t have to face him when he wakes up. Don’t have to see his expression. Can just focus on the relief, on making this ache go away.
I pull the blanket up and slide underneath.
It’s stifling under here. The musky heat from his body combines with my own overheated smell. I’m sweating within seconds. The pine scent is everywhere, infused into the sheets, but there’s also something else. Multiple scents layering over each other. My brain is too fuzzy to analyze it properly.
Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m here, and he’s here, and I’m going to get what I need. I’m positioned between his spread legs, and I reach out in the darkness, finding him by touch.
His cock is soft. But large even in this state. Impressive.
The moment my fingers wrap around him, he throbs. Comes to life in my hand, hardening so fast it’s startling. A grin spreads across my face despite my desperation. So responsive. So perfect.
I’m already rocking my hips without meaning to, trying to get friction, trying to ease the ache. My thighs are soaking wet. Arousal slides down my legs.
He groans low in his throat, a sound that buzzes through the bed and straight to my core. His erection is rock-hard in my hand as I slowly work him up and down.
“I’m all yours,” I whisper into the darkness. I move to straddle him, but the thought of facing him, even in the dark, leaves me spinning with anxiety.
I can’t look at him. Can’t watch his face. Too vulnerable. Too exposed.
So I pivot awkwardly, moving to straddle him in reverse. Facing away from his head, toward his feet. The blanket slides down my back as I position myself, and cool air hits my overheated skin. Better. Slightly better.
I rub myself over his hardness experimentally, testing the angle.
The friction is everything. I’m purring like some kind of satisfied cat, and I do it again and again, harder this time.
Fuck… I’m shuddering with excitement from his touch alone.
I lift my hips, positioning myself, and his hand is suddenly there. Supporting his cock. Holding it steady for me.
Heat floods my face even though he can’t see me blushing in the dark. “Hope this is okay,” I breathe.
He makes a sound of approval, a grunt, rough and affirming, and that’s all I need.
I sink down slowly and gasp. He’s so thick. Stretching me even though I’m soaking wet, even though my body is begging for this. I work myself down gradually, taking more and more, and it’s so tight I can barely breathe.
He groans behind me, hands finding my hips, gripping hard enough to leave marks.
“You’re so big,” I gasp. “I can barely?—”
His hands guide me down the rest of the way, and suddenly he’s fully seated inside me, and I’m trembling from the intensity of it. Just having him fully embedded in me calms the ache, the desperation… I could stay like this all night and be satisfied.
In truth, I’ve never been this full. It borders on too much, but in the best possible way.
His hands push me up slightly, then pull me back down, setting a rhythm. I catch on quickly, using my thighs to lift and lower myself.
My toes curl.
The slide of him inside me. The fullness. The way he hits something deep inside. Before I know it, I’m riding him, sweating, loving every damn moment. I’m moaning uncontrollably now. Can’t help it. Can’t stop the sounds spilling from my throat.
My hands brace on his thighs as I lean forward slightly, changing the angle, and that’s even better. Perfect. Exactly right.
I bounce harder, faster, chasing the release that’s building.
He’s grunting beneath me, hips driving up to meet every roll of my body, each thrust hitting a place that has my breath scattering. The bed rocks beneath us, the frame releasing a low groan that sounds like it might give out before either of us does.
His hand slides from my hip to my ass, fingers gripping, guiding, encouraging me to move exactly how he likes. The pressure is perfect, grounding and filthy at the same time. Then his fingers glide between my cheeks, slow and deliberate, teasing a place I have never let anyone touch.
I tense for a second. The sensation is new and strange and wicked. It shoots through me like a spark jumping between live wires. He circles there with lazy patience, and my thighs tremble.
