“Fuck any other gift. This is all I want.” I dance my fingers up her arm, gliding them to caress her face. “You’re all I want.”
With candy cane coffee kisses, Eira presses my body against the back of the couch so she can straddle me, plucking the art from my grasp and setting it safely aside.
“I’m all you want?” Her forehead meets mine, dark-brown locks of hair curtaining our faces.
“The best Christmas gift, hands down. The drawing is a very close second.”
A slow inhalation to enjoy her scent, a slow exhalation so I can do it all over again.
“I’m going to tell my family to pack it in, because nobody gives as good of gifts as Eira Davies.”
“You should probably unwrap your other present before you decide how good of a gift giver I am.”
“Reindeer poop chocolates?” A forceful huff of laughter blows from my nose.
“No, but I’m regretting not buying them. Honestly, they looked delicious.”
Rocking her hips against my thighs, Eira grabs the hem of her shirt and shimmies it up a few inches.
A shiny red bow sits atop her thin, cotton panties. I toy with it between my fingers, kissing her, swallowing the small whimpers rolling off her tongue.
“You’re definitely my favourite gift.Fuck, baby. I can’t wait to unwrap this.”
“It’s yours whenever you want it.”
This time tomorrow, she’ll forever be the one that got away. Knowing my fate before it happens kills me.
Would she view my pleading for her to stay as romantic or insane?
I tuck her hair behind her ears, moving to cradle her skull so I can lose myself even deeper in her kiss.
“You could stay… until the new year… if you want,” I softly mutter between the repeated crush of her lips on mine. Tension ripples through my jaw and neck as I wait for the answer I already know is coming.
“I have to go back to work.” The way her voice cracks at the end stills the breath in my lungs. Her warm palm presses to my chest, forehead falling against mine again.
“Yeah, I know,” I respond hoarsely.
“Let’s talk about this at 11:59, okay?” She grabs the bottom of my shirt and slowly slides it, waiting for me to cooperate by pulling my arms through. Then she bends to kiss her way across my clavicles, hands gripping and teasing the length of my torso, and she whispers into the crook of my neck, “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”
She was right to shut down the conversation. We agreed to enjoy this for as long as it lasts. So I reach under the well-worn cotton shirt and cup her breasts, smoothing my thumbs over peaked nipples. Bracing her body for the quiver as I trail my fingertips along the soft curve of her waist then under the waistband.
“Can I have my present now, baby?”
Breathless, she nods, entire body tightening in anticipation. Her ass lifts up just enough for our frenzied hands to work together to slide my jeans and her panties to the floor.
She’s already wet, clit slightly swollen and not finding enough friction from the slow rock of her hips on mine. I can help with that, though. I’d make teasing her to orgasm my full-time job, if I could.
My cock presses painfully inside the restrictive fabric of my boxer briefs, only made worse when she grinds her soaking pussy over the bulge. Within seconds, she’s making my dick wet through the fabric, and I’m no more than three more sensual gyrations away from blowing it in my pants.
“Give me a second,” I say, easing her from my lap. “Can’t have you falling off the couch again.”
The plaid blanket she cloaked herself in to draw the other night’s still hanging off the back of the armchair, and I neatly lay it out in front of the Christmas tree. A gentle tap of my hand has her crawling across the floor with the sleek grace of a prowling predator, coming to sit in the centre of the blanket.
Lit with a kaleidoscope of reds and greens from the twinkling lights, Eira’s beauty continues to amaze me. She leans back on her elbows, getting comfortable, and her hair falls messily to one side then the other as she angles her gaze to get a read on me.
“Merry Christmas, baby.” I stroke the delicate skin of her inner thighs.
“Merry Chris—oh my God.” A moan interrupts her mid-sentence when I lean in to feast on her sugar-sweet pussy. Turns out, not wearing pants and doing nothing but eating isexactlyhow I want to spend every holiday from here on out.
