Page 394 of The Christmas Wife

This time, when he smiles, it’s a curve of his lips that has nothing to do with pleasure. It’s an expression of satisfaction. Of approval. I’ve passed some test I didn’t even know he’d set. I open my mouth to ask; but before I can say anything, he stands up, lowers my feet to the ground, spins me around, and bends me over his desk. I blink and realize my cheek is pushed into his desk, and my ass is up in the air. Then he kicks my legs apart. There’s a ripping sound and my already torn skirt splits further.

"You’re an animal," I gasp.

"Finally. Took you long enough to recognize it."

He shoves my skirt up as far up as it will go, so it’s bunched under my armpit, then he urges my arms to my sides, curls my fingers around the edge of the desk.

"You good?"

I nod.

"Hold on tight."

"What—" A line of pain zips up my spine. It takes me a minute for my brain to catch up with my nerve cells. Then I yell, "Did you spank me?"

"Yup." His big palm connects with my left cheek, then the right, then the left, before he pauses. "I spanked you four times."

"What are you—" I yell again as he brings down his palm, alternating between my asscheeks, four more times. Four slaps, four more zings of pain that skitter to my core, curl around my clit like a lasso and pull tight. I moan and pant and curse. He laughs. The bastard laughs. I’ve never seen him enjoying himself so much.

"I hate you," I say through gritted teeth.

"Not yet."

He rubs his palm across my throbbing butt cheeks, and the contact sends another swish of sensations bursting up my spine. My brain cells feel like they're melting. Everything around me seems to sparkle. He seems to have brought the Christmas spirit to life without lights, a-n-d I might be a tad high on whatever reaction he’s eliciting in my body. Heat covers me. The edge of his jacket chafes my backside as he bends over me. He pushes my hair away from my face and stares into my eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I’m fine," I say in a dreamy voice.

He wraps his fingers, once more, around the nape of my neck. I sigh. I like when he does this; I like it a lot. He draws long strokes down my back over my blouse and skirt, down to the base of my spine, and up again.

Warmth seeps into my shoulders and my arms, and the muscles of my back unwind. I stretch under him, feeling like I’m a cat, feeling my lips stretch up in a smile. He bends and presseshis lips to mine, and it’s soft and sweet and hard and demanding, all at once.Jeez."Where did you learn how to kiss like that?"

"It’s you," he murmurs into my mouth. "You make me want to show you how good it can be when I make love to you."

"Hmm." I smile.He said 'make love to you.'My gaze widens. I open my mouth to ask him…when something fat and blunt teases my forbidden hole.

32

Edward

Only when the words are out of my mouth, do I realize what I’ve said. And that she heard it, and that there's no turning back now. I tried to show her my true self, and I let the truth slip out— dammit—the very reason I lost my composure, the very reason I lied earlier. And now, it's all out there. And I know she’s going to ask me about it, and I’m not ready to talk about it—not now, not for a while. So like the coward I am, I tilt my hips, push forward, and breach her.

"Eddie," she cries out. No one’s ever called me by this nickname, and hearing it from her lips sends the blood draining to my cock. My cock thickens impossibly more, pushing up against her walls. I wait, wait, allow her to adjust to my size. Then, when the trembling in her body recedes, I propel my hips forward and bury myself inside her.

She groans.

So do I.

And because I can’t stop myself, because I’m falling for her—and my heart knows it, though my brain hasn’t yet caught on—and because she’s so fucking gorgeous laid out in front of me, and because her lips are a better taste, better than any liquor I've ever drunk, I lower my head and press my mouth to hers again. She parts her lips willingly, and I ease my tongue over hers. The taste of her is potent and sweet and complex and innocent, all mixed into one. It goes straight to my heart and ties a lasso around it, then heads to my cock. My shaft twitches. I draw of her breath, lick into her mouth, absorb her whimper, and when I straighten, she looks at me with so much trust, that ball of sensation in my heart expands until it bleeds into my skin and covers my entire body. I hold her gaze, then lock my fingers around the nape of her neck. "Do you trust me?"

She nods.

And it undoes me, all over again.

I reach down and around her, then begin to strum her pussy. Color flushes her cheeks, and she moans. Her muscles relax even more, and I slip deeper inside her. "You’re so tight… So hot… So perfect." I grit my teeth and allow her to adjust, once more, to my intrusion.

I continue to play with her pussy lips, circle her clit, and when I slide my fingers inside her cunt, she moans. "It’s too much. You’re filling me up. I can’t take any more."

"You can," I say with complete confidence in her. "You will. You’re my Belle."

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