CHAPTER23
11 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS (STILL)
Poppy
I kissed him.I can’t believe I just went ahead and did it.
I wanted to take away his worry about Belle, even if just for a little while, as if he had a wound and I needed to kiss it better. What can I say? I’m a fixer.
Plus, he was looking at me with such want.
One minute, we were staring at each other, and the next, I launched myself at him.
But it doesn’t take long for him to take over the kiss. He may be a man of few words, but damn, he knows what to do with his mouth.
He groans and pulls me to him until I’m straddling his powerful body and pure sensation takes over.
He kisses me over and over, soft, slow, sensual, in a rhythm I mimic with my body. When I roll my hips, he groans and kisses me even more feverishly. He’s hard and impossibly big against me.
I run my hands over his shirt, and I revel in the heat and strength beneath it. Even through the material, I can feel each defined muscle. It’s as if a sculptor molded him as an example of the perfect man.
In retaliation, he runs his fingers down my neck and follows my collarbone lower until he spreads my robe and dips into the collar. He pulls my sleep shirt lower until my breast is fully exposed. And only then does Ronan drag his lips from mine.
I’m bereft at the loss of his drugging kisses, but then I feel the full heat of his eyes on me. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
He kisses my neck and presses a butterfly brush of lips to my collarbone, soft and chaste.
I melt when he takes my nipple in his mouth, nipping at me slightly. Desire, hot and wanting, shoots through me. I was wet before from just his mouth on mine, but this is so much more. My robe falls open, and I wrap my legs around him.
Our last encounter in the kitchen was an inferno that blazed fast and fierce. This is just as hot, but it’s softer, sweeter, more intimate, perhaps because we’ve opened up more of ourselves to each other.
He sucks first one nipple, then the other. I’ve always felt my breasts were just average. But now, I’m rethinking that. They’ve got Ronan transfixed, so there must be something a little special about them.
His hand makes its way down to my underwear. I gasp, and the sound seems to fuel him. His gaze follows his hand’s progression as he lifts my shirt. Only my underwear and his sleep pants are between us. I can feel him long, hard, and thick against me. I can’t help it. I roll my hips restlessly.
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose it,” he warns in a desperate whisper.
“Good.”
He grasps me to still my hips and then lifts the shirt up a little more, exposing my pale stomach. I wish now I’d taken up Pilates. Or my mother’s Zumba classes.
He laughs, a surprised sound. “Does your underwear say Wednesday?”
Oops. I guess it’s time to find out whether Ronan prefers sexy panties.
“Um, yes?” I say.
“As in, Wednesday, tonight?”
“Mmm-hmm.” I kiss his neck, trying to distract him.
“Wait, I need to get a closer look,” he says. I giggle as he picks me up, then gently tosses me onto the sofa and lifts my shirt higher. His head is dangerously close to my very wet and wanting pussy. I wriggle my hips a little to assuage the heat.
He traces his finger over the word written on the thin cotton, making me moan.
“So yesterday, your underwear said—” His voice is teasing.
“Tuesday.” I complete his sentence.
