Page 39 of Their Christmas Miracle

Josh

Holly turns around, confusion drawing furrows between her eyebrows. I grab the back of her knees and tug her closer. The base of my cock slams into her, earning me a delicious groan. I urge her up, teasing her legs around me so she’s straddling me.

I back her up into the headboard.

She moans at me, her lips parting and her eyes closing. I kiss her bottom lip as I dip my hips and slowly slide my dick into her again.

God, but it’s starting to feel all kinds of familiar-good in there. Like my favorite shoes.

Holly murmurs something unintelligible as I slowly kiss her. She’s not responding to that kiss, just moving her lips as if in silent prayer. I begin fucking her as slowly and gently as I can manage.

Nibble at her mouth.

Run my tongue over her teeth.

I slide my arm around the back of her head, cradling it. The other goes around her waist, holding her tight.

Urging her up against me as I thrust into her.

After two rounds, she begins riding me.

Her clit slides over my pelvis, leaving wetness in its wake. She’s shuddering uncontrollably now, her eyes sealed shut as if they’d never open again.

I kiss her ear, teasing it with my teeth.

No reaction.

Try kissing her again.

Nothing.

She’s gone into a fuck-coma.

I release her waist and slide my hand between us.

She’s still bucking up against me, slow and steady, but the instant I touch her clit with my thumb, those obsidian eyes of hers fly open.

“Oh,” she says, all quiet-like, as if she’s just remembered she left the iron on.

“I’m going to come,” I tell her, just as calmly, in case anything above a whisper might trigger both our orgasms before we’re ready.

She makes a strange, keening noise. Her legs grip me hard, and her bucking becomes hard. A hollow forms in her throat, the cords in her neck standing proud.

Her hips slam into the headboard as I thrust into her.

She’s staring at me, mouth open, jaw jutting out. I yank her hair, keeping her head still as I lean forward and kiss her.

Her hips slam against the wood, wet with sweat. That keening of hers is louder now. Her hands grab my pecs, her nails digging in.

She’s thrusting against me as hard as I am against her.

I can’t breathe anymore. She’s all around me — her legs around my waist, her arms around my shoulders now. Her hands in my hair, her nails in my scalp.

I’m crushing her mouth, but she’s pressing into me like she wants even more.

I try, but I’m giving her everything.

Every—fucking—thing.

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