Page 85 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
“Patience.”
Whimpering, I let my ass fall back down to the sofa as he made his way down my body, kissing down my stomach and over my hips. He worked me out of my jeans, socks, and panties. Now totally naked beneath him, I ached to be filled. I couldn’t wait any longer.
He settled between my thighs, kissed the soft skin between my legs, and finally tasted me. I gasped. He swirled his tongue over my clit and worshiped me. Every lick brought me closer to losing control. I clawed at the pillows behind my head, writhed in his arms, and finally he draped his forearms over my hips so he could hold me down.
Good thing, too.
When I came, I bucked wildly, like I’d lost the ability to control any and all muscle function. North let out a primal growl of satisfaction against my flesh that left me feeling like an exposed nerve.
More.
He eased a finger inside me.
More.
And another.
“Yes,” I moaned. Something inside me caught fire and burned hotter than the one crackling behind us. I dragged his face back up to mine for more kisses and murmured sweet thank you’s against his lips as he found the rhythm I liked best and stuck with it. Slow, deep, steady.
I lost all sense of time and space lying beneath him on the sofa. We might have been messing around for hours or minutes. I would never know for certain. Eventually, after several orgasms that left me with unreliable knees for walking, he scooped me up and carried me upstairs to his bedroom—pausing on the way to make sure I didn’t forget that he had complete and total control over me. By the time he laid me on the bed, I was buzzing with lust.
I had to show him just how grateful I was.
While he stripped out of his pants, I slid off the edge of the bed into a crouch in front of him. The room was dimly lit, but his eyes burned bright as I unzipped his fly, pulled his pants and boxers down, and freed him. I stroked his length and knew full well that this time he wouldn’t run.
This time?
He was mine.
I teased him with kisses first, exploring him and all his sensitive spots with deliberate slowness. He reached down and stroked my hair, gently nudging my head forward as if asking me to give him more, but he’d teased me downstairs, and I wanted to maintain my brief hold of power for as long as I could. It would be fleeting, but it would be glorious, and he couldn’t rush me.
He groaned when my lips puckered and the kisses grew wetter.
“Come on, baby,” he growled.
Steadying myself with my hands on his powerful thighs, I drew him into my mouth inch by inch. From one moment to the other, I owned him. He was like putty in my hands. I took him deeper until he pressed against the back of my throat, and as I held him there I watched him struggle to stay in control of himself. If I could have smiled, I would have.
After plenty of teasing—merciless teasing that wasn’t very festive of me and perhaps had a bit to do with payback—I indulged his desires and worshiped his cock like he deserved.
For him, I gave it all up.
Everything.
Until he decided he’d had his fill, grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulled me up, spun me around, and bent me over the edge of the bed. He slapped my ass. Hard. I yelped, wiggled my hips, and pushed back, asking for more. He barked at me to stay where I was so he could get a condom, and I didn’t dare move.
When he returned, he positioned his knee between my thighs, forcing my legs apart, and rubbed me in slow circles while he masterfully unwrapped and put the condom on with his other hand. My whole body felt like it had been pulled tight, like a tight-walking rope, and the slightest touch or amount of pressure sent vibrations through every strained muscle and into every nerve ending.
“Please,” I pleaded.
North ran his length between my thighs. “Please what, baby?”
I let my head hang back, my hair grazing my spine, so I could look at him. He caught my chin and let his large hand rest around my neck. His thumb grazed my lower lip.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
North eased inside me, filling me up until my thighs quivered and tiny stars exploded behind my eyes. I smiled against his thumb still resting on my lip, opened my mouth, and let him trace my teeth. I rolled my hips in a circle, loving how he pressed into me, and pushed back, taking him right to the hilt. He pulled more firmly under my chin, guiding my lips to his, and he rocked slowly, like holding me was something to be done with care.
“I love you,” he said, his voice strained.
