With one final blow from the side, the nail surrenders and folds, trapping that manipulative little sprig in place.
"Let's see the little fucker move now," I declare, hooking the claw of the hammer over the headboard, leaving the handle jutting out like a warning over what’s mine.
The mistletoe might be ahead, but I have a point on the scoreboard now.
A smirk tugs at my mouth as I enjoy the sight of Holly slack-jawed and speechless beneath me.
“Now I’ve got you right where I want you…” I nudge her mouth closed with my knuckle, lingering just long enough to feel her lips part under the touch. A damn shame because I know exactly how to put that mouth to use—but we’ve got time.
“…under my hammer.”
"Oh my God, you've lost your fucking mind." Her voice trembles with surprise and something darker, something that matches the inferno raging under my skin.
My hands find her thighs, where impossibly soft skin meets the top edge of the damn socks that have been torturing me allweek. My fingertips sink into her flesh with my possessive grip—mine.
"Or I’ve finally found it." The words come out quiet and reverent because this feels like more than victory.
It feels like coming home.
Her palm settles over my hand—a simple touch, but it sends electricity crackling through my veins, alive and undeniable.
How she says my name—soft and wanting, nearly breaks me.
The glint of her glasses on the nightstand catches my eye. Snagging the delicate gold frames, I bring them to her face and slide them on with deliberate care, making sure they're perfectly in place.
“Glasses on when I'm fucking you," I command, my voice thick with lust.
She sucks in a breath, her lips trembling.
My fingers drag over the strip of bare skin where her thigh meets the edge of her panties. That goddamn spot—that one that’s been haunting me every night when she throws a leg over me in her sleep. The same place I took in the sleigh.
It’s forbidden, and it’s been taunting me ever since, daring me to lose control.
She responds instantly, knees falling open, inviting me in. When my hand slides beneath her sweater, her skin sears against my palm, leaving another mark on me.
My weakness all week—now she's here, spread out before me like a feast, and I plan to devour every inch.
"Chance..." she moans my name, a plea and a challenge all at once, her voice low and husky.
"Shhhhh, no talking when the ride's in motion. Isn't that the rule?" I drag my teeth along her inner thigh, making her gasp.
"Funny, I remember quite a few rules—oh fuck—" Her voice breaks on a moan as I bite down gently.
My jagged breaths turn shallow, anticipatory, as I hook my finger under the edge of her panties and drag them aside. The sight of her glistening pussy steals what’s left of my self-control—slick, perfect, and mine for the taking.
Mine.
I give her one last grin. She doesn’t shy away or hide. No, not my Holly. She stares straight at me from the haze of lust—transfixed.
The last thing I see is her eyes rolling back as I disappear from her view. Running my tongue along her slit, I savor her sweetness, the way her body trembles beneath me while circling her clit with the tip of my tongue.
Teasing her flesh, I draw out her pleasure until she's writhing and gasping.
"Fuck, Chance, I need—I,” she chokes on simple words, thrashing under my mouth as though she can get away from me—as though she can save herself—from our absolute destruction.
“What was that, baby?" I circle her clit slowly as her jagged pants fill the air. "Can't hear you over how fucking wet you are for me."
She tries to grind against my face, but I pin her hips down. "Chance, please..."
