Page 37 of Christmas With My Ex

I close the distance between us, kissing her like we’re trying to erase the space, the time, the pain between us. Her hands come up to my chest, not pushing me away but pulling me closer, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt.

The kiss deepens, and I feel everything rushing back—the fire, the intensity, the desire that’s always burned between us. This wasn't my intention when I came up here, but I'm certainly not opposed to what is happening naturally.

I don’t know how we end up against the wall, but the next thing I know, her back is pressed against it, and I’m kissing her harder, deeper, my hands finding the edge of her robe.

She makes a soft sound, something between a sigh and a moan, and it drives me crazy.

“Rives,” I breathe against her lips, my fingers slipping beneath the fabric, finding bare skin. She arches into me, and I wonder if I can push our reservation back.

My heart is pounding as I press Rives against the wall, her body responding with an urgency that matches my own. Her fingers are deft, swiftly working the buttons of my jeans, the sound of the zipper joining the symphony of our ragged breaths. I pull my shirt over my head, impatient, needing to feel her skin against mine.

She unties the belt of her robe with a swift flick of her wrist, the fabric parting to reveal the curves and lines of her body that I've been aching to rediscover. It falls behind her, forgotten, as I lift her, my hands cradling her firm backside, her injured knee held carefully to avoid any strain. She wraps her legs around me, her body fitting perfectly against mine, just as I remember.

I carry her to the bed, our lips never parting, the taste of her igniting a fire within me. Gently, I lay her down, her hair fanning out around her like a halo, her bright blue eyes locked onto mine. Hungrily, I take a moment to just look at her, this woman who has haunted my dreams for years, her olive skin flushed with desire, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath.

Then I kneel between her legs, my hands tracing the contours of her body, reacquainting myself with every dip and swell. She reaches for me, pulling me back into the kiss, her nails scraping lightly down my back, sending shivers through my body.

I trail kisses down her neck, her collarbone, my tongue tracing a path to her breasts. I take one of her nipples into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue, eliciting a gasp from her. Her back arches, pressing herself further into me, as I lavish the same attention on her other breast.

My hand travels down her stomach, my fingers slipping between her folds, finding her already wet and ready for me. I stroke her gently, feeling her respond to my touch, her hips bucking against my hand.

I can't wait any longer. I position myself at her entrance, looking into her eyes as I slowly push inside her. She feels like heaven, hot and tight around my cock, and it takes everything in me not to thrust into her with all the pent-up longing I've harbored over the years.

But I hold back, moving with deliberate slowness, giving her time to adjust to my size, to the feel of me inside her once again. Her injured knee is propped up, supported by the bed, ensuring that she's comfortable, that the only sensation she's experiencing is pleasure.

As her body relaxes around me, I begin to move with more urgency, each thrust driving us both closer to the edge. She meets me stroke for stroke, her hands roaming over my body, her legs tightening around my waist.

The world outside fades away as we lose ourselves in the rhythm of our reunion, our bodies moving in perfect harmony, the connection between us reignited, stronger and more intense than ever before. This is more than just sex; it's a homecoming, a reclaiming of something that was too precious to let go.

I feel the tension coiling within her, the telltale signs of her impending release. I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, circling it in time with my thrusts. She cries out, her body convulsing around mine as she comes, the feeling of her contracting around my cock sending me over the edge as well.

With a final, deep thrust, I let go, my orgasm ripping through me like a wildfire, as I empty myself inside her with a groan of pure, unadulterated satisfaction.

We lay there, entwined, our bodies still joined, our breaths gradually slowing as we come down from the high. I press a kiss to her forehead, her temple, her lips, tasting the salt of our mingled sweat, the sweetness that is uniquely Rives.

As I roll off her, careful of her knee, I pull her close, wanting to keep her near, to hold onto this moment for as long as possible. She snuggles into me, her head resting on my chest, her hand splayed across my stomach.

We don't speak, there's no need for words. Our bodies have said everything that needs to be said, and for now, that's enough.

4:40pm

I’m lyingin her bed, staring up at the ceiling, my heart slowly coming down from its racing rhythm. The whole thing had started and ended so fast—one minute, we were standing there with our plans ahead of us, and the next, we are tangled in her sheets. I guess she's forgiven me.

I glance over at Rives, her chest rising and falling steadily, her skin still flushed from the rush of it all. It feels like old times, the way we used to get swept up in the moment, the intensity.

The silence hangs in the room, comfortable but charged, until Rives suddenly breaks it.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she says, her voice cutting through the quiet. “Get out so I can get ready,” she laughs and leans in to kiss me.

When she pulls away, a smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. “You’re kicking me out already?”

She sits up, pulling the sheet around her like some kind of shield, but the teasing smile on her face softens the blow. “Yes, Nicholas. You can’t just lie there like you own the place. I need to shower, and we have dinner. Go on, skedaddle.”

I stretch lazily, still riding the high of what just happened. “I mean, we could just cancel the reservation... or push it off and see where things go from here, if you know what I mean?”

Her eyes widen, and she scoffs, swatting at my arm. “Cancel? Are you out of your mind? It’s Christmas Eve, and we have a fancy date. We're going to dinner, so go get ready.

I laugh, raising my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just thought I’d offer.”

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