Page 136 of The Hockey Grump Saves Christmas

His hands glide from my shoulders down my breasts, stopping for a quick nipple tweak before continuing their journey to my thighs and parting them.

“Oh, my fucking beauty,” he says, staring at the most intimate part of me. “Just the sight of you makes my mouth water.”

My clit throbs with such force that I’m about to grabhis head and thrust it between my legs when his tongue glances over it, sending sparks hurtling to every extremity of my being.

“You make such beautiful sounds,” he says.

And I have no idea what he means because I hear nothing. I see nothing. All I can do is feel. All I can do is sense the parts of him that are touching parts of me.

And holy fuck does his warm wet mouth feel good. I claw at the sheets, lost to the circling pressure of his tongue, the sucking and teasing. I’m climbing and rising and don’t want it to end, but I also need to make him stop because I want to come on that magnificent dick of his more than I want to breathe my next breath.

When his finger glides over my entrance, I come back to my senses and wriggle up the bed away from him.

He looms over me.

“Lay your sexy-as-fuck rock-hard ass down here.” I pat the bed next to me.

The moment his body hits the covers I’m on him, straddling him again.

“Look at you,” he says with a lustful smile as he slides his hands up the outside of my thighs and around to my butt.

“And look at you.” Gliding my fingers up the smoothness of his shaft, I guide him right where I want him.

“I love it when you’re on top,” he says. “Lying here looking up at you is like watching the greatest show on Earth.”

“Then it’s time for me to step onto the stage.” I ease myself down onto him—the pleasure of being on birth control now.

My chest still jolts at the first nudge inside me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that slightlypainful shock of pleasure. And I never want to. I want it to stay fresh and unique for the rest of my life. Because yes, oh yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with this man.

Gabe keeps his hips stock still, allowing me to slowly lower myself onto him at entirely my own pace. He watches me every fraction of every inch of the way.

“Christ.” My eyelids get heavy as I slide him deeper. “I have wanted this since the moment you did that dance and made those kids laugh harder than I’ve seen them laugh before.”

And now I’m as low as I can get. As full of Gabe as it’s possible to be.

“Who knew a rabbit suit would be your thing, Bugs?” He slowly circles his hips.

“And who knew it would be yours?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth his eyes drift shut and he reaches for me—one hand to my breast, the other to my clit.

His chest pumps with hard breaths, his hip-circles turn to thrusts. “I want to make you come so fucking hard,” he pants.

And I know he will.

And I know I’m only seconds away.

I rest my hands on his solid pecs and lean into the work his hands are doing.

We both move faster, breathe heavier.

Bending lower, I take his nipple into my mouth, and he cries out, “Oh, fuck, Bugs. I’m going to come if you do that.”

“Good.” I suck harder, lick harder, as I give myself to the rising tide of pleasure from his hands and his dick.

“Oh, dear God,” he cries.

And I’m with him, rising and rising. I’m barely awarethat my mouth is open, panting, and no longer on his nipple because I’m lost, gone.

“Fuck,” Gabe shouts, his thrusts totally out of control.

---