Page 149 of Snowed In

“Yeah. I hope we don’t miss the wedding.”

I couldn’t give two shits about the wedding, but I know it’s important to Bree that we’re there.

“Let me go ask and see if anyone knows anything,” I say, but Christian almost whimpers when I utter that.

“But I’m so cold,” he says, looking like a lost puppy dog. So damn cute.

“You can survive.”

He pouts with those swollen red lips and I can’t help but move over to him and kiss him deeply. That turns into thirty minutes of making out and a delicious sixty-nine position, the two of us rolling over at the end of it and gasping for breath.

“Oh, I really liked that,” he says, and I lean up and smirk at him.

“Like my dick, Christian?”

His flushed cheeks darken. “Yeah. I do.”

That makes me preen like a fucking peacock and I stand up, wiping my cum stained lips and pulling on some clothes.

“Don’t fucking distract me. I’m going to ask about the weather and the roads and if I get back and we have more time, I’m going to eat your ass.”

His eyes widen, and he wiggles beneath the covers.

I fucking want the roads to still be blocked. I want to hear him scream my name as I eat him out.

But sadly, the man at the front desk tells me that the roads will be cleared within the hour, so Christian and I can be on our way to the wedding.

Thank fuck we won’t miss it.

I’ll miss eating his ass, though.

But when I make my way back into the room, Christian is naked on the bed, his legs spread, his skin a pretty pink.

“I took a shower,” he says shyly and the trip can wait. “If we have time…”

“Yeah, we have time,” I lie as I descend on him, stripping my clothes off as I flip him over, his ass up in the air. My fingers knead his cheeks open and I drag my tongue up his crack, making him buck forward. Damn, he tastes like Christian and soap. He washed real fucking good. I moan into his skin and let my tongue lap at his rim.

“Oh gosh, oh my gosh,” he whines, and I grin softly.

Won’t even swear now. Maybe I can get a fuck out of him, I think as I continue to tease him, one of my hands moving around his hip and grabbing onto his hard cock. I shuttle my fist up and down his straining length as I slowly push my tongue into his hole. He bucks against me, crying out at the sensation, and I groan as I do it again, slowly working him open with my tongue.

“Wren!” Christian shouts and pushes his ass back against my face, wanting me to go deeper. So I do, and now I’m tongue deep in his hole, fucking into him, making him sloppy and wet, all while I tease his dick.

It bucks in my hand, overused and yet eager for more.

Christian is quite the little slut.

I pull my tongue from him and when he whines, I flip him over, grab his hips and suck his dick.

He’s panting now, his hands in my hair, tugging wildly as he tries to keep his orgasm at bay, but he doesn’t need to worry. I’m going to make him remember this.

I pop off his cock and move to his ass once more, spreading him wide and thrusting my finger and tongue into him. His eyes roll back in his head and he starts to tremble when I rub against his prostate.

“Oh, oh my! Wh—what is that?”

Yes,oh my. “Your prostate,” I say, pulling his balls into my mouth while I continue to play with him.

He’s gasping now, pulling the sheets off the mattress, his cock leaking profusely.

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