Page 71 of Scrooge

“Moaning already, Sunflower?” I tease, knowing by the way she is wriggling that her orgasm is not far away. My lips hit her upper thigh, and her breathing becomes more rapid. I continue to take my time, kissing her wet skin, before I finally decide to give in and lower my mouth to her clit. At the brief first pulse of my lips and flick of my tongue, her back arches instantly, legs falling farther apart, and I settle myself between them.

“Oh God, you are so good at that…” she murmurs, and I smirk, swirling my tongue over her clit in a constant rhythm I’ve learned sets her off.

“I can’t get enough of you,” I rasp against her core before I push her legs even wider, exploring her more thoroughly as I suck and lick her from opening to clit.

“Yes, Alex… oh God…” she whispers, making my cock thicken even more, my hips moving against the bed, needing my own friction.

I feel the bed move as she sits up on her elbows, and her hand lands on the back of my head, her fingers digging into my scalp.

When I groan, turned on by how she’s taking control, her hips moving against my face.

“Yes,” she whimpers and grinds, holding me captive to tasting her. “Oh God, Alex.”

I am totally consumed. By her, by this. It all feels so…right.

“Stop,” she says suddenly, and I pull back, looking up at her with concern.

“I want us to come together,” she says, and I grin, my lips grazing her skin as I kiss my way up her body, tracing more of her curves with my tongue.

“I want that too, Sunflower,” I tell her, circling her nipple with my tongue. She loved the attention I gave them last night, so I enjoy feeling it pebble before I circle it again and suck it into my mouth. “Your breasts are perfect, just like the rest of you.”

“Oh, Alex… that feels so good,” she moans, before she pulls me up to her face, kissing me with passion and desperation. It’s a kiss that makes me feel like I mean the world to her, and I kiss her back with just as much vigor.

The words “I love you” tingle like pins and needles on my lips as my tongue languishes against hers. We are lost, the two of us. Naked, wet, entwined with each other. The house could be burgled right now and neither of us would notice or even care. It’s like when we are together, nothing else matters. That’s how I know this is different.Sheis different. Kissing down her jaw, to her neck, and back again, she does the same, sucking the skin on my neck, leaving little love bites of her own.

Smoothing my hand up her thigh, her knee bends as I cup it and lift it up, positioning myself at her entrance. She moves her hips at the same time, taking me into her warm, slick center.

“Shit. You feel too damn good.” Sinking fully into her, it feels like I’m coming home.

“You do too. So, soooo good,” she breathes out, the two of us taking our time as we meet thrust for thrust, wanting this to last. Pulling back, I look in her eyes, and she cups my face in her hands.

“Haylee…” I say her name again, lost in the feeling of her as we stare at each other, this moment so intense, it has my muscles shuddering from overwhelming pleasure. Her body starts to quiver, in tune with mine, and I know she is close.

“I… oh… Oh, God… Alex…” she pants, her mouth opening on a silent scream as I feel her walls clench around me, the sensation enough to put me over the edge.

“Sunflower,” I groan gutturally, our eyes never wavering from each other’s as we come together, and it is then I realize… This woman has my heart firmly in her hands, and I am addicted to her.

Her smile. Her touch. Her moans. Her curves. The way she knows just what to do or say to help me. There’s no turning back for me. I trust this woman, and I want her by my side.

I don’t have to ask her about the paperwork; I already know she doesn't know anything about it. I would bet my life on it.

But her father does, and that is something I need to get to the bottom of.

33

ALEXANDER

“What are you doing?” I ask her as I walk into the lounge after finishing a conference call with the team. It went longer than I was expecting. This time of year, there are always things we’re trying to complete before the holidays, so people work twice as hard so they can have their break without deadlines hanging over them.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I found some paper and just felt like sketching,” she says, looking up at me from where she sits on the armchair, her back against one arm, her legs dangling over the other, a pad of paper across her knees. I admire her for a moment. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, and she’s wearing blue jeans and a white cable-knit sweater. Her feet are bare, her toes painted pale pink. So fresh, so natural, and all mine.

“I don’t mind at all. What are you drawing?” I ask as I walk over to her, standing closer and looking down at her sketches.

“I was just trying to capture the ocean. The waves are beautiful today.”

I look up and out the window. Her sketch is almost identical. The way she can just draw something that looks exactly like what our vision holds is astounding.

“This is really good,” I tell her, looking back down at her sketch.

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