Time stood still for exactly two seconds, or maybe thirty—there was no way to know for sure. Not in the depths of his dark living room, illuminated only by the soft white glow of tree lights. Neither of us had had the will to make it to his bedroom, let alone the couch.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the lips pressed against my mound crooked up in a mischievous grin. At the same time, the fingers knotted through my thong yanked, snapping it off my body.
There was no suppressing my cry when in the next second, he thrust his tongue deep.
“Fuck,” I half-whispered, half-groaned. I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.
The rough edges of his beard scratched at my thighs and labia while his tongue tore through layer after layer of my pussy, eventually drawing a line up to my clit. When he circled the small bud and sucked, my legs instinctively tried to trap his head in place.
There was something so empowering about seeing him like this, on his knees, holding me up with his massive fingers, eyes full of hunger and reverence. This man could snap me in half if he wanted to. Yet here he was, licking me, savoring me like I was his last meal on Earth.
I sucked in a breath when he added first one finger, and then another to the mix, crooking them inside me like he was beckoning me closer. How much closer could I possibly get? The man already had his lips, tongue, and fingers buried in my cunt.
“Austin, I need you.”
“You’ve got me, baby.”
He managed to add a third finger. “No.” I gasped. “I need more. I need you inside me.”
His eyes flashed. Before I knew it, we were moving again, only this time he was gently lowering me to the living room rug. “Is this okay?” he asked before shoving my sweater over my head and undoing my bra.
“Uh-huh.”
“You deserve to be taken in a bed and worshiped for hours.”
I don’t know about that.I felt pretty fucking worshiped already.
A soft smile tugged at my lips. “I’m not going to break if you fuck me on the floor, Austin.”
He let out a shuddering breath before leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. “That mouth.”
“This mouth?” I closed the gap between us, nipping at his lips.
His hand snaked down and around my neck, applying the lightest pressure to my throat, just enough to send a dark thrillshooting through my veins like lightning. He smirked, no doubt loving the way my pulse beat wildly against his hold.
“You’re asking for trouble.”
His voice was soft, almost teasing. But the edge to it made me shiver.
I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly bone-dry. “That’s what naughty girls do.”
One corner of his mouth hooked up in a wicked, wolfish grin.
I sat back, enjoying the view while he undressed, adding his discarded clothing to the growing pile on the floor. My fantasies hadn’t done him justice. In reality, he was bigger, thicker, hairier—a beast in human form.
Santa baby.
Thin black curls peppered across his chest and bulging belly, like an arrow pointing straight toward his girthy cock. The reindeer tattoo inked just above his right thigh made me giggle. The demanding look on his face did not.
“Turn over, baby,” he ordered while rolling on a condom. I opened my mouth to argue, but quickly closed it when the sharp crack of his hand hitting my thigh echoed through the room. “Now.”
“Yesss,” I squealed.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He rubbed a hand over the spot he had slapped. “Good girl.”
