Page 46 of Snowed In

He used the knife to tap the end of my nose. “You are trouble.”

“I know. It’s a gift.” I thumbed my nipple, grinning at him. “We should get you some water. You’re bound to be a little dehydrated after all that vodka.”

He examined the sharp kitchen knife, then flipped it and held the dull side of the blade against my throat.

“There’s more than one way to hydrate.” His predatory look sent desire chasing down my groin and inner thighs. “Pull down your pants.”

I sucked in a breath at the gentle order, then shoved the bottoms down past my ass and cock to mid-thigh.It’s a good thing I decided against killing him.

With a deep, satisfied rumble, he sucked my nipple into his warmmouth before trailing kisses down my chest and belly, keeping the knife at my throat. He nuzzled into the patch of pubic hair, inhaling deeply before taking my sleepy cock into his warm, inviting mouth.

Fucking hell.

It had been a rough night of muscle aches and underwater nightmares, so it took a while for my body to respond. He kept at it, though, patiently palming my nuts, stroking my thighs as his mouth drove me insane.

Finally, when I was impossibly hard and thrusting my hips, he set aside the knife and thumbed my nipples while continuing to deep-throat me. I hadn’t ever known sex to be both cozy and hot, but this fucking guy managed to make it work.

The heat and tension in my body finally ratcheted up to the point that I was arching off the bed, moaning his name.

“Coming . . .” I warned.

His deep rumble was the final straw, and my vision went white as the orgasm ran roughshod through my body. He drank me down, insistent until I cried out from the intensity. He rolled away with a satisfied grin on his face, and I righted my pajamas before pushing him back against the pillows and yanking down his sweats.

“Jesus, how did my poor ass ever manage this beast?” I murmured, then swallowed him down as best I could, my lips stretching obscenely around his girth.

He gripped the back of my head, careful as he rolled his hips. Making me come must’ve had him on edge because his shout was the only warning I got before I was choking on his orgasm.

He tried to pull away, but I kept after him, needing every fucking drop. I captured his gaze as I took down the last of what he had to offer, then slowly pulled off him and tugged his sweats back up to his waist. We lay back, completely fucked out for several breaths before he tucked me in against his heated body, once again my snuggly big spoon.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

After a few moments, he rose from the bed like a god and made his way to the bathroom, where he left the door open. From my vantage point, I watched as he pissed, then washed his hands and brushed his teeth.

Chuckling to myself, I grabbed the knife and walked up behind him as he was rinsing his mouth out. I had planned to jokingly hold it up behind him in the mirror, but his hand shot out and twisted my wrist before I could get that far. The knife painlessly dropped out of my hand. More impressively, he grabbed the knife before it hit the ground. With knife in hand, he gave his mouth one more rinse, then arched his brow at me in the mirror.

His expression was a combination of amusement and murder, and fuck if that didn’t get my blood pumping.

I suspected he’d left the knife out in the open as a test. I couldn’t tell if I’d passed or failed, but I had a feeling that it was going to lead to more orgasms either way.

“How do you like your eggs?” he asked. “I’ll be frying up some bacon.”

“Then I like my eggs fried. Hard.”

Hetskedand went to the kitchen, where he began gathering supplies. Soon, the sounds and smells of breakfast—coffee and frying bacon—filled the air. I poured two cups of coffee, setting one beside him as he flipped our eggs. The knife was sitting on the counter, and the sneaky part of me had to reach for it.

Before my fingers could even touch the handle, however, he shifted and smacked my knuckles with the greasy spatula.

“No touchy,” he growled through a bemused smile.

“Fine.” I pouted, then stole a piece of bacon instead.

We sat at the tiny kitchen table, which had a great view through the picture windows out onto the cove. The snow had stopped but still lay in drifts on the ground.

“Feels like we’ve been dropped onto an alien planet,” he said, cutting up his eggs and bacon together.

“It really does. Do you think we should try to go out to the main road and see what’s happening up there?”

“I don’t have the clothing for that,” he admitted. “I didn’t believe the weatherman when he said there was a chance of snow. But since the electricity is still on, we can turn on the radio and see what they’re saying.”

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