Page 45 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

His warm breath heaved against her neck as he whispered, “You were gone, out of my life for nineteen years, yet the thought of you not walking this Earth terrifies me.”

Her heart skittered at his admission, a warmth spreading through her at the raw emotion in his voice. She moved away from his mouth, enough so that she could take his face in her hands. “I’m here with you now, and I want to enjoy it.”

Their mouths met, tongues and lips molding, tangling, and their hands all over each other’s bodies. His calloused palms took the opportunity to travel up and around, slipping between their bodies to cover her breasts, fingering her puckering nipples. Wren jerked when he pinched her, squeezing her thighs together as her flesh pulsated between her legs. When he dropped to his knees and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking it with a savage tug, her eyes fluttered closed.

Sam switched to the other breast as his hand slid between her legs, rubbing between her lips. When he pushed two fingers inside, Wren bucked against the intrusion, sucking air like she couldn’t catch her breath. As he gently bit and sucked her aching peak, she continued to ride his fingers, seeking satisfaction.

Sam released her nipple and met her gaze, a wicked grin on his face. “I think it’s high time you showed me how you almost killed a man.”

It took her a moment to remember telling him about riding another man’s face, and Wren laughed. “Aren’t you scared?”

“No.” Sam smacked her ass with both hands, gripping her cheeks until her back bowed. “Are you? I think you’re scared I’m going to wreck you for anyone else.”

Wren gasped. “Fucking arrogant son of a— Oh, fuck!”

Her body shook when he found her clit, circling it, twisting it, pinching it in hard, fast strokes until she was panting above him.

“I’m going to lie down on that couch, and I want you to climb up and let me taste that sweet pussy,” he growled, his teeth grazing the top of her breast.

How could he expect her to move when he was doing something so amazing?

“No? You’re going to deny me?” Two fingers curled inside her, and her knees buckled. He caught her with his arm wrapped around her thighs, holding her in place as he played with her body. “That’s not very nice, Birdy. Especially when I’ve got some new things to show you, too.”

She held on for dear life as he stroked her, massaging that area inside that too many men forgot existed, and his fast circular ministrations left her riding his hand like a barrel racer heading toward the finish line. When his fingers twisted inside, her eyes rolled back, and she was done for, the hot rush of her orgasm surging over his hand, and she cried out his name, pushing herself forward to buck and shake until she finally came down, eyes opening slowly to find him watching her like he was ready to eat her up.

Have fucking mercy.

He slipped his fingers out of her and stood up, brushing her hair back from her face. “Still so fucking sensitive.”

Wren laughed. “I’m not. You just knew what you were doing.”

“Is that so?” Suddenly, he moved her aside and sat down on the couch at the same time he lifted her up, dragging her up his body until her pussy was hovering just below his mouth.

“Ride my face,” he demanded, fingers gripping her hips as if anticipating Wren climbing off him.

“Why? Are you hoping I’m gonna smother you?” she teased.

“If you did, what a way to go.”

This time, Wren helped him adjust her over his face, and when his tongue found her open center, she arched her back. Most men would have been over foreplay after she got hers, but as he stroked her, licking her along her seam until he found her clit, her already sensitive and throbbing flesh quivered.

“Are you trying to go for a record?” she asked, her words ending on a moan as he sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue across it rapidly. Wren grabbed on to the only things she could, the back of the couch and his hair, as he licked her over the edge, and that second orgasm had her bucking so hard against his face, she nearly fell off the couch.

Sam caught her by her hips, dragging her down to straddle his heaving chest. “Whoa, there. What was that you were saying about a record?”

“Orgasms,” she gasped. “Are you trying to beat my record?”

“What’s your record?” he asked, stroking her thighs.

“Two,” she said.

“Too easy,” he said, sitting up until she slid down his body, settling in his lap. “It’s in the bag.”

“Earlier, when you were rubbing your wet pussy all over this cock, I wanted to slip it inside you so bad I almost burst.”

Wren bit her lip, staring down into his intense expression, and for a split second, she almost said, Do it. Fuck me raw.

But if he asked her if she was on the pill, she couldn’t lie to him. He’d probably think she was trying to trap him. But if she told him the truth, that would be even crazier.