Page 129 of My Favorite Holidate

I snag some extra pillows from the bed then join her on the floor, positioning the pillows under her back so it’s comfy for my woman.

I take a beat to stare at the beauty in front of me, here for me, opening up for me in every way. I want to deserve her. I want to earn her. Most of all, I don’t want to hurt her by saying something too soon that I can’t back up. But Ithink I can try with her. I think I can toss out all my old beliefs and embrace new ones.

But I need to be sure I won’t fail.

First, though, I need to fuck her good. I line up my hips flush against her and sink inside. My brain scrambles, my nerves firing with incandescent pleasure.

She’s tight and hot and all mine. And when she whispers my name in a shuddery breath, I nearly sayfuck I love you.

I grit my teeth and swallow down the dangerous words.

Then she’s quiet, and I am too as I ease out, then slide back in, letting her feel every inch of me.

Her breath catches, and her eyes go a little glossy. “It’s so good with you, Wilder. Everything’s so good with you.” It sounds like a confession, like she’s on the verge of something. Of falling too? Could she be? That would be too wonderful. I can barely let myself entertain the possibility that all these feelings could be returned the same way.

But I have a job to do—making her come—and I won’t fail at this one either. “Wrap your legs tight around me. I need to fuck you deep. Need to take you hard. Need to show you how much you mean to me.”

She complies, hooking her ankles around my ass, and then demands, “Show me.”

I fuck her slow, and deep, and passionately. I kiss her as I swivel my hips. I whisper sweet everythings as I thrust. I tell her she’s beautiful, incredible, absolutely amazing as I touch her.

I’malmostsaying it. Almost, but not quite.

Still, I want her to feel it—the strength of this connection between us. I want her to believe it can last well beyond the holidays. Right now, I want her to lose controlfor me. I rise up on my knees, slide my hand between her thighs, and play with her clit till she’s coming hard and fast then begging for another one.

All too happy to oblige, I hook her ankles over my shoulders so she can barely move. Her arms loop around my neck and her wild eyes say she’s holding on tight. In no time, I find a rhythm that has her moaning and begging.

Our bodies slide together. Her fingers tangle in my hair. Her eyes hold mine with such intensity and desire that words nearly burst from me. I can hardly believe that in a few short nights I’ve done the thing I swore I wouldn’t do. I’ve fallen completely in love with her, with no hope for coming out.

Pleasure seizes my body, and I’m lost.

“Give it to me,” she urges and she’s taking all the control, arching up, rocking against me, dragging her nails down my back and squeezing my ass.

I’m desperate to give her another, but my own climax has seized control of me. I’m shaking and shuddering, but then she’s crying out too. Like my pleasure has sent her over the edge again.

The world goes offline and I’m not sure I want to come back to it.

Not here, under the Christmas tree, as if the rest of the world has gone to sleep, and it’s only us.

A little later we’re in bed, under the covers, her fuzzy socks on as she rubs her feet against my leg. Snow falls gently beyond the cool glass of the window.

“Remember that first dinner?” she asks, her voice fondas she reminisces about an event that was only a few weeks ago.

“Of course,” I say. I remember everything about her.

“I can still hear what you said about snow when you look out the window,” she says.

“Tell me. Tell me what I said.” I remember it too, but I want to hear the words crossing her lips.

She turns to face me. “It’s romantic. When you look out the window and you see the flakes falling and everything goes hush, it makes you want to spend the day, and the night, with…that special someone.” Her voice catches on those last three words, and her mouth is soft.

My heart is beating so fast, so loud. She has to hear it.

“I feel it,” she adds in a bare whisper.

My brave woman takes the first step.

I cup her cheek, look her in the eyes, and say, “There’s nothing fake about us.”

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