Page 230 of Screwged for Christmas

Pine and fresh soap filled her lungs as she wound her arms around his neck as he carried her to the back bedroom. Not bothering with lights, he pulled the drapes closed as they went, sinking them into further darkness.

She closed her eyes and let the softness of the bed’s thick comforter wrap around her as he placed her down gently.

Watching her he turned on a nearby lamp and she welcomed the soft yellow glow spilling over them.

Ivy eased to her elbows and enjoyed the view as he flicked the button to his pants open and stood before her naked and aroused.

“I knew I didn’t stand a chance against you.”

She smiled and licked her lips. “I want to have you on my tongue, mountain man.”

A deep growl of appreciation rumbled up the back of his throat as she crawled to the edge of the bed.

“Anything you want, angel. But first I want you naked.”

He wrapped his fingers around the edges of her sweater and pulled, causing a soft feminine sigh to slip as his fingers brushed her tender sides.

He made quick work of her boots and pants next, leaving her in only red panties and bra.

She held her breath as a long silence carried between them. He stood back from her looking from beneath hooded eyes. From below them the strong vocals of a famed singer carried through the floor. Something about home and Christmastime.

Damon paid no attention. It seemed like she was the only thing in the room with how he devoured her with his eyes.

Heat crept into her cheeks, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Beautiful, angel. Now come here.” He gathered her hands in his and kissed every last one of her fingers. “You leave me breathless and that’s not something a man of my status likes to admit.”

Ivy blinked. “Oh. I thought maybe you didn’t like what you saw or maybe the red silk wasn’t your color there for a second the way you paused.”

Damon closed the sliver of space he’d put between them. “All I know is thank God you left your long johns on yesterday because I would have ended up killing half the town for even looking at you and the other half for thinking they could have a shot at touching you.” He dipped his head to capture her lips in a fiery kiss. “And red is my favorite color,” he mumbled against her lips.

Hesitant, she stepped back and did a small twirl for him and smiled a little when she heard him suck in a harsh breath.

“I am dying to lick that. Every inch, every vine, every tiny pink rose will be mine.”

She trailed a finger over the intricate vines and flowers of the tattoo he eyed hungrily that climbed the length of her thigh to twine around her waist and interlaced at the dip of her hip.

She and Zahara had gotten matching tatts a couple of years back after her sister’s attack from her insane ex-fiancé. The tattoo served as a way for them to grow stronger together and now it gave her a boost of confidence she never felt before.

Not until this moment with how Damon looked at her. Like she was his angel.

She never thought a man like him, utterly masculine and a little broody, would be interested in someone as unnatural to being sexy as she was. Here he was, man of nature and comfortable with all that entailed, and she preferred the wilds of the city. Hell, making this far out of the city and not getting lost somewhere in the woods was due only to the fact no one had left her alone long enough.

Ivy let out a small laugh when he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed. Pinned between the mattress and the rocky planes of his abs and the delicious scruff of his stubble, she desperately wanted tonotlike the feel of his cock pressing between her thighs or love how his thick thighs spread hers so deliciously.

She fell further under his spell.

Would it have been too much to ask for her tohatehow his body molded to hers? She really truly wanted tonotlike the feel of his tongue on her body as he made good on his promise of licking every inch of the tatt he marveled over moments ago.

She gasped and bit into her lip to hold back the pure twist of pleasure that tangled around her senses. She didn’t want to sound too weak, but have mercy. His hands massaged into the flesh of her thighs. His thumbs nearly spreading her folds. He teased and he knew it was driving her crazy.

So freaking good.

She loved the way his tongue found every groove, every sensitive spot and made her body sway and dance under his hot tongue.

Especially how he paused over each rose of her tattoo to add extra kisses and licks. Like he wanted to truly taste the tiny flowers decorating her skin.

His cock, his tongue, and his lips were the keys to her heaven. Men like Damon were the one solid reason good girls shed angelic wings and went for pointy horns.

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