Page 49 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
“Perhaps,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me to him. “But I’ve been staring at you all night. Thinking about your lips.” His hand came up to graze my lower lip and lingered on my cheek. “And thinking about our night together… how good you felt.”
I shuddered, and this time it wasn’t from the cold.
North slid his arm behind my back and held me flush against him. “I want more.”
With my hands pressed to his chest, I stretched to the tips of my toes. He still had to bow his head to meet me. Our lips grazed gently before we kissed in earnest. His kiss was warm, but the tip of his nose was icy cold. He tasted like spiced rum and smelled of pine. My senses piqued to his touch, too—the warmth of his hand on my back, the callused hand against my cheek, the fabric of his suit jacket under my palms, the coarseness of his stubble on my chin.
Without parting, he managed to get his front door unlocked. We backed inside, tripping over each other’s feet, and he closed the door with a firm kick, locking it behind him with a flourish of his wrist. His jacket came off, followed by mine, and he picked me up at the bottom of the stairs. I hooked my legs around his waist and he climbed the steps effortlessly, one hand under my ass supporting me, the other still cupping the side of my face and neck.
At the top of the stairs, he turned right. I hadn’t paid much attention when I was up here getting ready, and I didn’t pay much attention to our surroundings now as we passed a stained-glass window glowing from the outside due to the Christmas lights. He stopped just past the window, pressed me up against the wall, and kissed me deeper. His tongue dipped between my lips. I hooked my arms around his neck and plunged my fingers into his dark, unruly hair.
Somewhere between our kisses my brain started to churn.
What did this mean?
Was he going to pump the brakes and stop right when things got good again?
He held me with confidence and certainty. I sensed no reservation in him this time, and if he did discover that he still wasn’t ready to take this step, I couldn’t be angry with him for it. I just had to be willing to set myself up for rejection again.
His kisses burned in the best way, and my nipples budded against my dress in response. The skirt of my dress inched up my legs the longer he held me, and soon his hands were on my bare thighs as he held me to the wall. When he could, he shifted his hands under me to cup my bare ass. A gown like the one I had on was not meant for panties, so I’d forgone them entirely. He squeezed my cheeks and let out a hungry little growl against my lips.
I rocked forward in his hands, using them like a seat, and murmured into our kiss. “Help me out of this dress.”
It weighed a ton now that the skirt was wet on the bottom from our walk home.
North carried me down the hall the rest of the way. We ducked into his bedroom, a high-ceilinged, masterful, masculine space in deep shades of navy and camel brown. His four-poster bed didn’t so much as creak when he threw me down on it. Scrambling to my knees, I turned my back to him, showing him the zipper, and drew my hair over my shoulder. He worked the zipper all the way down to the base of my spine and I let the straps fall from my shoulders.
I’d opted not to wear a bra, either.
North removed his jacket. I sat with my back to him, curled in the fanned-out skirt of my dress on the bed, and watched him undress over my shoulder. I felt vulnerable and exposed but in a good way. In the back of my mind the fear of him changing his mind still felt real, but I was willing to roll the dice one more time and see what happened.
His belt and shoes came off after his jacket, and he began undoing the buttons of his shirt.
Coyly, I crawled out of my dress. The silky fabric slipped from the end of the bed with a soft whooshing sound. North never took his eyes off me as I sat on my knees, waiting for him, watching him back with equal arousal and intention as he tore off his pants. In nothing but his boxers now, I admired his body.
Just like last time, I was amazed at the power of his stature. His broad shoulders made his waist look tapered, but in no way was he of narrow build. His thighs were thick and carved with muscle, his stomach cut into squares.
I licked my lips in appreciation before realizing he was soaking in the sight of me with just as much purpose. My milky skin, hard nipples, goose flesh, pale silver stretch marks on my hips, scarred navel from a belly piercing gone wrong when I was a teen, perky but somewhat uneven breasts, the birthmark on the right side of my ribcage that resembled a small peanut.
Normally I felt painfully insecure when I let someone see me like this, but the way North looked at me made me feelworthy. Desired.
Beautiful.
The quiet, steady moment broke, and he climbed up onto the bed with me, drew me into his lap, and kissed me like he wanted to consume me. I instinctively reached to his boxers, the only thing standing between us, and trailed my fingers along the waistband. His stomach sucked in sharply as I teased him, and this time he didn’t stop me when I slid a hand under the fabric and felt him for the first time.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that a man of his size would be well endowed, but I was.
The kiss deepened, and soon he had me down on my back, splayed naked beneath him, his knee wedged between my thighs as I stroked him inside his boxers. My impatience got the better of me and I pulled him free. Before I could wiggle down and invite him to my lips, he rolled me onto my stomach, squeezed my ass, and ran his hand up the back of one of my thighs before slipping it between them and cupping my pussy. I lifted my hips from the mattress and spread my legs a little further—a silent plea for him to fill me.
He did.
He gave me one finger, followed soon after by another, and as he fucked me deep and slow, he leaned over me, cupped my chin with his free hand, and forced my head back so he could kiss me. I could barely breathe, stretched and pulled back like that, but oxygen seemed inconsequential in contrast to how good he was making me feel. I found myself bouncing involuntarily, fucking his fingers, pleading for more, unable to give voice to my desires.
I lost all track of time. Soon, he settled between my legs, face between my thighs, and licked and suckled as he drew me onto my knees. I’d never had a man taste me like that before. His lips sealed over my clit and his fingers pressed inside me. The pressure and the sweet swirl of his tongue pushed me over the edge, and I clawed at the bedding like a feral animal as my orgasm broke over me.
Shuddering and breathless, he let me collapse on the mattress. While I regrouped, he swung off the bed, padded to one of the nightstands, and returned with a condom. He held it in his teeth while he stripped out of his boxers. My gaze fixed on his cock as soon as it sprang free, and I was unable to look anywhere else as he tore the condom open with his teeth and rolled it on.
North pointed to the edge of the bed. “Here.”
