Page 71 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

Sam chuckled, his breath rushing across the skin of her neck. “If you can call it that.”

“In that case, I’m kind of prepared.” Wren backed out of Sam’s embrace once they stepped over the threshold of her room, and she unbuttoned her coat, letting it fall to the ground. Wren watched Sam’s face as he took in the lacy number she’d donned that hugged her body, showing off her curves.

By his intense expression, she wouldn’t be wearing it long.

“Damn, Birdy, you look fucking delicious.”

Wren laughed. “Thanks. Unfortunately, you were not the first to see this tonight. I answered the door, thinking it was you, and it wasn’t.”

“Oh, damn.” Sam reverently ran his hands over her arms, then wrapped his arms around her waist. “I would say something to make you feel better about flashing your brother, but everything that comes to mind would probably make you feel worse.”

“I’m a little scared of what you think would be worse.”

“At least you’re hot?”

Wren smacked him in the arm with a squeal. “You’re so gross!”

“I tried to tell you.” Sam pulled her into his body, dipping his head to hover his mouth over hers. “Still want me?”

This wasn’t supposed to be about wanting, but something about the way he said it melted every bone in her body, and Wren turned to mush in his arms. “Yes.”

Sam kissed her tenderly, his fingers trailing their way up her back to her shoulders. “I keep thinking about Tuesday. I haven’t been able to think about anything else for days.”

Wren huffed softly. “Why? Because you got your bad girl back?”

He paused, fingering the straps of her lingerie. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking turned on I am when I’m making you happy.”

His words lit through her like striking a match, and she caught fire, meeting his mouth in a slow-burn kiss. What was happening between them shouldn’t involve emotions or need, but Sam’s hands on the straps of her nightie, dragging them down over her arms, made her breasts tighten in anticipation. He exposed her flesh, pushing the lacy scrap of fabric to her waist, and bent over to blaze a series of kisses down the column of her throat and along her collarbone, dropping to his knees in front of her.

Sam stared at her, his hands covering her breasts, and she closed her eyes, concentrating on his touch. He ran his hands over her skin, fingers playing with her nipple, and she arched her back, heat pooling in her core. “You’re so perfect, Birdy. Every part of you.”

His mouth covered her left nipple, sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue over the tight bud in slow strokes.

Wren held on to his shoulders as he turned his ministration to the other breast, squeezing her left one in his hand, massaging it gently. Then he squeezed her sharply, and she gasped, the intensity of the contrast overwhelming. Her back muscles spasmed, and her knees trembled as he sucked her nipple hard and deep. Wren tangled her hands in his hair, holding on while trying to stay upright.

“So sensitive and responsive,” Sam murmured, traveling down her stomach to where the lingerie gathered. He slipped the lace over her hips, exposing every inch of her, and with every piece of flesh he exposed, his mouth found contact. She stepped out of the nightie, staring down at him and his golden head as his tongue delved into her belly button. His eyes rolled up, staring into hers as his hand reached between their bodies, finding her with his fingers.

Wren leaned against the doorjamb, letting him lift one of her legs over his shoulder, eyes closing as bliss washed over her. His mouth and fingers worked her like she was an instrument, hell bent on making music with her body. She moaned as his tongue swept up her seam to her clit, and his fingers spread her labia, giving him better access. He flicked his tongue against her in rapid motions, giving her no quarter, and she gripped the doorjamb.

“Oh God,” she whispered at the sudden fullness from multiple digits curling inside her, touching her spot in heavenly strokes that left her panting. Her fingernails dug into the wood as she bowed, the pressure inside her building until she was climbing to great heights, soaring into the air, weightless.

Suddenly, she was screaming with release, shaking with the force of her orgasm, and through the haze of pleasure, she heard Duke barking. Sam’s laughter. It was too good.

She collapsed back against the hard wood of the doorframe, his tongue still softly soothing her raw pussy.

Sam stood slowly, kissing his way up her body until his mouth reached her ear.

“Did you know a woman is more likely to become pregnant if she orgasms?”

“What?” she whispered.

Sam lifted her into his arms and smiled down at her. “I said, did you know that a woman is more likely to become pregnant if she orgasms?”

“No. How do you know that?”

“I did a little research,” he said, almost shyly. He lowered her onto her bed, hovering over her. Wren had changed the sheets earlier and straightened up the room, but he wasn’t looking anywhere but at her.

“That is sweet, but why?” she asked.