My head throbs too. It’s dull but painful enough to make my mind flash back to the chaos of the night before. I do my best to shake those images away, focusing on the warmth that spreads through me from being so completely close to Damon and knowing we get to have Christmas together today.
“Morning, Angel,” Damon’s voice rumbles against my neck, all warm and melty. It makes my skin tingle. “How’s your head?”
“Sore. But I’m okay.” I shift an inch and feel him twitch inside me. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Some.” His hand slides up to cup my breast through his shirt I’m wearing. “Mostly, I just watched you breathe.”
“So creepy, Freddy.”
He laughs, and his cock twitches again. “And I know you love it.”
I do. More than I want to think about too hard, pre-caffeine. “What time is it?”
He glances at the clock on the nightstand. “Almost noon.”
“Noon?” I try to sit up but he holds me in place. “Damon, we’re supposed to be at the Shea’s by three?—”
“We have time.” He rocks his hips slowly, letting out a groan that has me tensing my core. “Besides, I’m not done with you yet.”
I bite back a moan of my own. “You were inside me all night.”
“And I could stay inside you all day.” His teeth graze my shoulder near my bee tattoo and I let a moan loose.
“Damon—” He rocks again, and slides his fingers down the length of my body until he’s teasing my clit. “Oh God.”
“You were saying?”
“Christmas.” He rubs slow, lazy circles and I can’t help it. I buck against him. “Christmas morning.”
“I can’t think of a better present than watching you come around my cock, Angel.”
“Damon, please…” I don’t even know what I’m begging for. Relief, release, anything. He knows exactly what he’s doing, keeping his pace slow. He wants me to be putty in his hands.
Another thrust… so deep. God, he feels so good. What the hell was I saying before about getting up?
And then suddenly he pulls out, and cool air touches my skin where his warm body was. “I guess you’re right though. We should get up and do the whole Christmas morning thing.”
I’m panting hard as I narrow my eyes at his smirking face. “Asshole.”
He chuckles. “Don’t hate me yet. I have presents.”
“I do like presents,” I say, still feeling too hot for my own good.
“Although,” he leans in close again, “you’ve already given me the best gift.”
I take in his messy bed head and the dark circles under his eyes. Keeping things light, I say, “You mean, not dying?”
“Not funny.”
“Come on… I think we can joke about it now.”
I laugh but then wince when it makes the throbbing in my head intensify. Damon immediately notices my grimace. “Ouch. No more laughing.”
“I’ll get you some Advil. Come on, let’s go sit by the tree.”
He helps me up, unnecessarily, but I let him because the room spins for a second when I stand. We make our way downstairs, and I have to admit the view is worth leaving the comfort of our bed. The Christmas tree is lit up in the corner, presents scattered beneath it, and snow is still falling outside the windows. It looks like a fucking Hallmark movie.
“Sit,” Damon orders, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get you water and Advil. And coffee.”
