“Matilda?” My voice is deep. “Come ’ere.” I lean back on the couch and hold my arms out. “Sit on me.”
“Really?” She stares down at my lap. “I’m heavy.”
“Nonsense. I want to watch you ride me.”
Tentatively, Matilda sets down the box of food, wipes her mouth, and stands from the sofa. God, her body is a wet dream. She’s soft and curvy, and her skin is like silk. I love how pink she’s getting right now and how the goose bumps cover her body when she’s excited.
I feel the same.
As she moves a little closer, I grasp myself tightly and pump once or twice to relieve some of the tension.
“Do that again,” she asks, staring down at my hand.
I do it again but just once more. “I don’t want my own hand. I want to feel your pussy around me again, Matilda. Come ’ere.”
When I see her rub her thighs together, I know what I said turned her on. Leaning forward, I place a hand on each of her full hips. “Straddle me like you did in the truck that one time.”
Placing one knee on the couch, then the other, I help her until she’s above me. Holding my cock in my hand, I instruct, “Lower yourself onto me.”
The second I’m inside of her, I throw my head back and moan. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
She’s breathless when she replies, “You do too.”
Seated completely, I use my fingers to play with her breasts. She’s got beautiful tits, not too small, not too big. Her nipples are on the small side and the loveliest shade pink I’ve ever seen. And they taste—I lean forward and lick each one—delicious.
“Should I move now?”
God, yes. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Hands wrapped around her waist, I watch her move up slowly, then press herself down again. Without any tips from me, her movements increase in speed and emphasis each time until she’s practically bouncing on top of me. It’s the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen some sexy shit.
“Jesus, Matilda.” I thrust up into her as she moves down onto me. Using one of Matilda’s own words, I’ve got to say it’s magnificent. The sight of her body moving, her head thrown back, and the noises she makes all combine to make this the most thrilling sexual encounter of my life.
Then, like icing on the cake, she says the most amazing thing, “God, Alec, fuck me harder. I’m almost there. I need you to fuck me harder.”
I’ve got her on her back on my new sofa so fast, I’m almost afraid I’ve hurt her, but she wraps her legs around me, throws her arms over her head, and repeats it. “Fuck me. Do it.” Raising one of her legs, I place it over my shoulder. That gets me even deeper than I was with her on top. I thrust hard, and that’s when she screams, “Yes, like that. I’m gonna come.”
Like I said, best. Christmas. Ever.
* * *
Tappedout and smiling from all the sex we’ve had throughout the night; I wrap my arms around my woman and sigh with contentment. “Merry Christmas, my love.
“Merry Christmas to you too.” She’s exhausted, and I take both the blame and the credit for that. We did it every way imaginable last night. We did it from behind, on the kitchen counter, in the shower. I ate her for a midnight snack, and she tasted me a few times as well. Each and every time was better than the last. No joke.
“I’ve got a present for you.”
She laughs, but it comes out all raspy and hoarse, probably due to all the screaming she did in the night. “I’m not ready yet. I’m pooped. Give me an hour.”
I chuckle and jump out of bed. “Be right back.” I was going to give this to her the next time we were together. I’d already mailed her gift, so she’ll have that when she gets home. This one is different. Back in bed, I hand her the envelope first. She pushes herself up until she’s seated on the bed. The sheet she had over her drops, revealing her naked breasts. Damn, I could get used to waking up to this every day.
“A letter?” Her smile is soft.
“Read it.”
She’s so careful with the envelope, I’m tempted to grab it out of her hand and rip it open for her. I’m that anxious. Or maybe it’s nerves.
Slipping the single page out of its sleeve, she opens it slowly. I watch as she reads. There aren’t a lot of words. But they’re important.
