“You did a really good job,” he told her because she had. She’d also had about sixty million pictures of white and gold Christmas trees saved to her phone and would have made a very good teacher, given how precise her directions had been about where to hang different ornaments.
“Wedid a really good job,” she said. She turned around to face him, her coat undone, gloves stuffed in the pockets. She pulled off the scarf and his eyes became fixed on her every movement.
Her dark red hair contrasted with the white of the sweater that she wore, hanging off one shoulder and exposing creamy skin.
“You look like you want to devour me,” said Sorrell.
“Fuck.” He was unable to come out with anything more, no matter how many qualifications he had. “You’re just stunning.”
Her laugh was pleased, as if she finally didn’t doubt his words. She moved towards him, her attention finally off the damn Christmas tree. “So are you.” Her words were quiet and far more controlled than his had been. Then she started to undo his shirt and he froze, knowing as soon as he touched her they wouldn’t be moving to any other room.
Her hands moved to his shoulders and pushed his now open shirt down, soft fingers trailing down his biceps. The shirt fell to the floor, leaving him in just a tight white vest which she then proceeded to pull out of his jeans, her hands grazing his stomach, over his abs and over his chest, pulling the garment off and leaving him bare from the waist up.
“There’s a disparity here,” he said, moving her hands off him and stripping the soft white jumper from her. “You have more clothes on than me and it’s warm in here. We should cool you down.”
“How do you plan to do that?” she said, eyes full of lust, mirroring what was in his own.
He could tell the flirtatious words were unfamiliar to her and that she was offering him more than her body right now; it was her trust as well.
Using one hand he reached behind her and snapped her bra open. It was strapless and fell from her, leaving her breasts exposed to him, her nipples puckered. Instead of paying them the attention he was desperate to give, he pulled her into him so their skin was touching, her breasts against his chest and kissed her. She pushed closer to him, needful, and his hand moved onto her ass, making sure she could feel his hardness through what was left of their clothes. He wanted her to feel his need, his desire, to stop thinking that she wasn’t worthy and that she deserved everything one lucky man could give. As long as that man was him.
When he ended the kiss, he dropped to his knees, encouraging her to go with him onto the thick white rug that covered the dark wooden floor in front of the fireplace. He laid her back and then his hands grasped her breasts and he started to explore them with his mouth, taking one and moving his tongue round the nipple in easy circles, using his hand to do the same with his fingers to the other. She murmured something unintelligible, but her actions, the way she moved him, weren’t. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.
Her hands were gripping his shoulders and biceps, fingernails digging into muscle. When he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, she whimpered, her hips bucking. He bit gently, a tiny nip of pain and this time her moan was louder.
“Shhhh,” he murmured, leaning over her, his hands undoing her jeans.
Sorrell’s hands went to his, feeling his length through the denim and pushing at his cock. Thankfully, the night before had got some of his pent up need for her out of his system so he felt like there was less chance of being a disappointment even if she kept that up.
“Undo them,” she said.
“Whose?”
“Both. I hope no one tries to come in. They’d wonder what sort of place they’re staying at,” she said quietly, lifting her hips to help him pull down her jeans and panties, leaving her bare. He sat back and undid the zips of her boots, pulling them off and then the remainder of her clothes.
He looked his fill. She lay on the rug, silky red hair splayed across the cream material, her eyes heavy with desire. Full breasts with their pink, sweet nipples moved with her breath. His eyes wandered down her curves to between her legs which she’d left open, confident now that he would like what he saw.
She was wet already, which meant he’d done his job properly so far. The trimmed hair between her legs was damp with her arousal and the head of her clit was visible.
“I want you in me,” she said, lazy with lust. “I don’t want to come first. I just want you in me.”
He laughed quietly, undoing his belt and his fly, pushing down his jeans and his underwear. Her eyes went to his cock and her lips parted. He wondered if he’d ever seen anything as hot as she was now, lying there, waiting for him, an unwrapped Christmas present.
Shucking off his jeans and shoes as quickly as he could was a difficult task when most of the blood from his brain was elsewhere. He managed it, moving back to Sorrell and her soft skin, immediately putting his mouth on a nipple and sucking hard.
Her legs parted wider and came round his waist, trying to angle her opening to meet his cock. She was needy, needy for him and it made him want to beat his chest and shout from the world that he’d laid claim to this woman and she had him.
“Hurry up,” she demanded.
He reached between them and took hold of his dick, moving it between her folds and over her clit. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes! Stop teasing!”
He moved his cock against her clit, wetting the head and making her moan. Her nails were embedded in his back and he was pretty sure she was drawing blood.
Her hips rocked against him, seeking the release. Red flushed her cheeks, her tits pushed together by her arms, as if she was offering her nipples for him. Strong thighs kept him close to her and he realised from her breathing that she was close, so close to coming.
He moved his cock from her clit to her entrance, feeling the tightness as he breached, hearing her cry as he pushed in smoothly but quickly, in all the way, so deep, that he rubbed against her clit and felt her muscles clench around his cock as she came.
