Page 70 of Whiteout

“Nooo.” Her nails sunk into the globes of his ass. “Put it back in me, baby. Please.”

“Shhh.”

Ian wrapped her in his arms and just held her. When the shudders subsided, he turned them both around and reclined against the hot tub’s molded bench seat, positioning her on top of him. “I want to see those pretty blue eyes looking right at me, princess.”

Her luscious pink lips turned up at the corners.

“Go on. Put me back in.”

Fumbling in the water beneath her, Breanna notched him at her entrance and slowly lowered her body down.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growled. “Take it. All of it. My good girl, look at us.”

Her gaze flicked to where their bodies joined. She smiled, and then those pretty eyes locked on his.

Ian pulled her down to his mouth, his tongue eagerly seeking hers, as he moved in and out of her purposefully slow. Breanna might be in the dominant position, but he was the one in control. Because this wasn’t going to be a fast and frenzied race to the finish.

Each delicious stroke an unhurried movement, he pushed in deep, as far as her body would allow, before gradually withdrawing until the head of his cock was the only part of him left inside her. His fingers gripped her hips, keeping her in place. The heated water swirling around them, he did it over and over again, letting the pressure slowly build.

“Sinjin.” Filled with him, she dug her nails into his flesh. “Please.”

In a swift maneuver, Ian swiveled them both up from the ledge. Her legs coming around his waist, Ian stood in the middle of the steaming pool, Breanna impaled on his dick. Snowflakes landed on her face as he guided her body up and down, thrusting into her soft pussy with all his might.

“What do you feel, Breanna?”

“You. Just you,” she mewled, hypnotic blue eyes locked on his. “I love—”

“I do, too, baby.”

I do. I fucking love you.

She picked an ornament out of the red tote and glanced at the floor-to-ceiling glass. A minute ago, like a scene out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, the glittering snowfall made for a picturesque backdrop. Now, a mere sixty seconds later, it spun in a white whirling dervish outside the window, and as far as Breanna was concerned, there was no longer anything pretty about it at all.

The grand tree stood at least twenty feet tall, the tip of it close to touching the wood beam in the ceiling. After a delightful afternoon in the hot tub, she and Sinjin cuddled together in bed, not emerging again until dinner. When they arrived downstairs, Francie had a festive spread set out. Crisp leaves of endive topped with dill-shrimp salad, Thai meatballs, baked brie, a tree-shaped charcuterie board—all sorts of handheld foods to nosh on—along with a rich red wine punch. And Ted had erected the realistic-looking artificial tree.

That it was fake surprised her. But then maybe her grandmother hadn’t seen the point in taking down a real one, only to admire it for a month before chopping its dried-out carcass into firewood.

“It looks so beautiful,” Francie said in awe, setting a tray of cookies down on the coffee table. “Makes me want to put up the rest of them.”

“There’s more?”

Up high at the top of the tree, Sinjin looked down and sniggered. “Heh.”

“At least a dozen. Ain’t that right, Mrs. Keeler?”

Ignoring her husband, Francie turned toward her and shrugged. “Your grandmother just loved dressing up Dalton House for the holidays.”

“We’re stuck inside for the time being, aren’t we?” Picking up a cookie, Breanna popped it into her mouth. “Let’s do it.”

“Guess I’ll be dragging more shit up from the basement.” Sinjin chuckled, coming down off the ladder.

He came to stand beside her, and with his hand squeezing her shoulder, whiskey eyes gazed down into hers, holding her against his side. A faint smile curved his mouth and the way he was looking at her had nerves rioting in her heart.

Staring at them, Ted cleared his throat. “Did you make any coffee to go with them cookies, Francie?”

“That’s a silly question, dear,” Francie said. “Course, I did.”

“Bring me some whiskey to get my insides warmed up, too, will you?” Watching the storm intensifying outside the window, Ted addressed Sinjin, “As soon as there’s a lull, we’ll be moving some snow, I reckon.”

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