She blushed.Holy Christmas.Six years, and he could still make his mate blush like she’d never been looked at this way before.
Six years is nothing,his dragon rumbled.She’s ours forever. And we are hers.
His voice caught in his throat. When he finally managed to speak, the words came out rough-edged. “I’ll always take you home.”
“I’m already there.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll take you to bed.”
If any other stray decorations tried to stop them on their way to the bedroom, he didn’t notice. They tumbled through the door together, almost slamming it behind them and then turning as one to grab it and close it slowly, gently,silently.
They looked at each other as the door clicked shut, and a spark flew between them. Literally.
“Careful,” Abigail breathed. “We’ve had enough wildfires for one night.”
“I’ll be good,” Jasper promised, and his mate’s eyes flooded black with desire.
“Does that mean I get to be naughty?”
She led him towards the bed and he stumbled back obediently, feeling as though his feet weren’t even touching the ground.
Eyes alight with mischief, she pressed one finger in the center of his chest and pushed. He let himself fall. The bed caught him like a cloud.
Abigail took her time in following him. She stood at the end of the bed, leaning to plant her hands on his thighs. Her sweater neckline hung down, giving a glimpse of warm curves he wanted to touch.
She slid her hands up, just an inch, but enough to make his body harden to rock.
He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Tell me what you want.”
“What? Talk things through, like mature adults?” She straightened, slowly, her hands drifting off his thighs with tantalizing slowness. “That doesn’t sound like us.”
“That seems harsh. We each wanted to make the other happy.”
“And there’s nothing wrong with that, except when it turns into a ridiculous slideshow of bad decisions.” She played with the hem of her sweater long enough that his fingers itched to tear it off her, then got onto the bed, straddling him on her knees. “Help me with this?”
“Gladly.” He snuck his fingers under her sweater and smoothed his palms over her warm skin, brushing his thumbs over the dips of each hip where he knew it would make her tighten with anticipation. She moaned gently and hitched her hips forward.
Beneath the sweater she was all soft curves and warmth, and oh, shit, she was wearing the snowflake-patterned bra he’d bought her a few years ago. He made a low growl deep in his throat and she laughed.
“What?”
“Why did I waste my time with tree decorating schemes this year when I should have bought you more lingerie?”
She laughed again, which was perfect, because laughter shaking her body made her look even better.
He wanted to bury himself in her. Face, dick, it didn’t matter; he wanted to press his body to her, wanted to make her shake and quiver and come until she was panting and flushed.
“What are you thinking?” Abigail’s voice broke through his sudden rush of desire, pinning it as surely as she was pinning him between her legs. She pressed a hand against her heart, where she always felt her end of their mate bond. “I could…feelthat. I thought I was meant to be the naughty one?”
He grinned. “I was thinking about being veryniceto you.”
“Oh?”
He pushed her sweater the rest of the way off and threw it aside, taking the opportunity to whisper in her ear and then to kiss his way down to her lips.
“How much I want you. How I want to make you feel good. And that I know exactly how to do it…” He kissed her, open-mouthed and hungry, while his hands undid her trousers and pushed them far enough down to cup her ass. She made a small gasp of pleasure. “I know what you want. Let me give it to you.”
“Me, first.”
