I glance at the grandfather clock in the corner, a clock that’s been passed down through the generations. “Eight twenty-seven. It’s not long until what would have been my parents’ annual tradition.”
He glances up to where mistletoe hangs just inches above our heads. His eyes then return to mine and he reaches up, cupping my cheek in his hand. “How about we make our own tradition?”
Before I can reply, he leans in and captures my lips with his without warning. It begins soft, his mouth brushing over mine gently and after my mind has caught up with what’s happening, I kiss him back as butterflies flutter in my belly.
He takes my other cheek in his hand and backs me against the wall where he skims his tongue over the seam of my lips, begging for entry and I open for him. His tongue sweeps inside my mouth, tangling with mine as the kiss deepens, growing more and more frantic by the second. I have no idea what to do with my hands as his grips my face, controlling the kiss.
I’ve never been kissed like this before. I’ve never been kissed hard enough to feel it everywhere. Every part of my body hums and tingles in response to his expert lips gliding across mine. I’m glad he’s holding me up, because I’m sure if he weren’t, my knees would buckle from beneath me.
His woody, citrusy scent intoxicates my senses and all I can think, feel and breath is him. Eventually my hands come to rest on his chest, balling his shirt in my fist as I cling to him like a lifeline.
“Royce,” I gasp against his lips, bringing my hands up, letting my fingers tangle in his hair. “Make love to me,” I say, and it comes out like a plea.
I hear him take in a sharp breath at my request. God, I must sound like a freak, and just as I think he’s going to back away and run for the hills like he probably should, he closes the gap between our lips and kisses me again, reaching down to lift me up.
My legs wrap around his waist, my arms banding around his neck as he carries me across the room, his lips never once breaking from mine.
He sets me down on the couch, then grabs a throw blanket that’s draped over the back and a few cushions, laying them down in front of the fire, spreading them out in the carpet before turning to me.
He skims his hands up the sides of my body slowly, then grips my hips and pulls me down onto the floor where he lays me down on the blanket, the fire crackling beside me as he kisses a trail down my neck. He takes one of his hands and drags it down my stomach, coming to a stop at the apex of my thighs where the hem of my dress has bunched around my hips.
His fingers dip under the waistband of my panties and my cheeks flush.Shit. I’m wearing the underwear I only wear on Christmas day, the red ones with Santa on the front, the least sexiest piece of underwear I own.
Please don’t look at them…
His fingers brush my swollen, sensitive clit and my body jerks in response as pleasure courses through my body. He rubs gentle circles around it with the pad of his finger, torturing me, before they soon find my entrance, dripping with need for him.
“You’re already wet for me.” He sounds almost surprised as a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth.
“Royce, please. Stop teasing me and…”
He cocks an eyebrow with a smirk. “And…?”
“Stop teasing and fuck me already.” The words seem so foreign coming out of my mouth, so unlike me, but the more he teases, I grow more impatient by the second.
I need him inside me.Now.
He shifts his position and places himself above me, nudging my legs apart for him. I tug at the hem of his shirt while his hands go to his belt as we fumble to get his clothes off as fast as possible.
His chest is wide and toned, and I trace my fingers over the ridges of his abs, feeling the muscles quiver under my touch.
He shoves his trousers down his thighs, followed by his underwear, and his cock springs free, hard and thick as he strokes it back and forth in his hand.
He bends over me, reaching for my panties which he peels down my legs, and just when I think he hasn’t seen them, he chuckles, his eyes finding mine as he holds them up. “Cute. I like them.” I turn my face away, hiding behind my hands but he tears them away. “Don’t be embarrassed. I wasn’t mocking you. Honestly, I like them. They’re kind of hot.” He smirks.
I slap his chest, unable to stop the embarrassed giggle that escapes my lips.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers as his mouth closes in on mine, his tongue tangling with mine as he positions the tip of his cock at my entrance.
He slides in slowly and we both groan as he fills me up to the hilt. He waits a second for me to adjust before he begins to move. His eyes never stray from mine as he works himself in and out of me in a steady rhythm.
He grips my hips and rolls us so I’m straddling him, sending him even deeper inside of me.
“Oh, fuck…” he groans as I move myself up and down slowly. He tugs my dress over my head and tosses it onto the floor next to us, my entire body naked and exposed to him.
I have a sudden urge to cover my breasts, not having been with anyone in a while I suddenly feel a little self-conscious, but I decide against it when I notice the way Royce is staring up at me. His eyes take me in like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and it makes me feel a little giddy inside.
He reaches up to cup my breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles over my nipples, sending shivers through my body and bolts of pleasure straight to my core.
