Page 14 of The Ghost of Christmas Present

“I want that, too,” Louisa’s voice was more air than sound. A whimper split her lips when he let his fingers make contact with her soaking lips, stroking them until they parted, revealing a deep rose center that was dripping with juice.

“All men should spend their nights on their knees—worshiping at this altar,” Mortimer sighed, not giving a damn as panties went the same way as her hosiery.

“Not all men,” Louisa’s hips inched forward, and his fingers slipped into her, a hot, clasping vise, tighter than he could have imagined. “I just want you.”

She wants me.

Me?

By God, she can have me!

LOUISA’S HANDS WEREclenched, gripping handfuls of the soft green cushion she was spread across. Her legs were spread wide, knees up, and her head thrown back, totally exposed in a debauched position as she let out an endless stream of curses and cries.

His fingers curled inside her one moment, then both hands parted her lips the next. His lips and tongue flickered across her clit and lips, working up one side and down the other, beforesucking all of her into soft, tingling wetness that felt better than a human mouth thanks to the subtle vibration his essence produced.

“Is that good?” he asked between kisses.

“God, yes.”

“Should I do things differently? I’ve read that one’s tongue is the key.”

She didn’t get to give him an answer. His tongue was certainly one answer—the answer to a prayer of every horny librarian who was tired of reading steamy scenes without living them out.

Mortimer Ashfield looked so prim and proper in his picture, a paragon of virtue in the portrait in oils hanging downstairs.

Bull.

Mortimer Ashfield was a pussy-eating fiend who had no idea that most men stopped licking when a woman did a full set of crunches on his face.

“I came!”

“I nearly did as well,” he confessed with a laugh. “But you taste so divine—and I can taste you. I don’t eat, you see. I have no need of it. I can remember food, of course, but nothing I ever tasted matches this. So sweetly salty, but more... It tastes of sex. Of pleasure. Of the sweet little rivers you make when I put my fingers here—” he pushed his fingers into her nice and deep, “and my mouth here.” His lips wrapped around her clit once more.

SHE DIDN’T BLACK OUT—BUTshe drifted off after the third orgasm. With her eyes closed and blissful waves of pleasure breaking over her, it was easy to let herself glide away.

“Best present ever. My parents used to let my brother and I open one present on Christmas Eve... I’m glad I didn’t have toskip it this year. Thought I would,” she murmured in a sleepy voice.

“When one receives a present, one should test it out thoroughly,” Mortimer laughed. Her unseen lover was more confident with each passing moment. She could feel him rising and she opened her mouth, beckoning him over with a fluttering of her lashes and crooked finger.

“I agree.”

Louisa gasped as she felt the thick, fluid firmness press against her entrance and slowly ease into her in one steady push. Her walls clenched down and his cock yielded, squishing slightly and moving with her. It was different than anything she’d ever felt, but instantly craveable. “Mortimer! I tho—”

Whatever she wanted to say escaped her when she opened her eyes.

A gray outline.

Filling in.

Shades of white and gray, pearly here, transparent there, becoming clearer as he bent his body to hers, pressing his lips across her neck before finding her mouth.

“I see you!” she whispered when her mouth was free again. “I see you!”

Mortimer pulled back, still inside of her, standing between her thighs with a look of elation. The elation quickly gave way to a flustered look of confusion. “You can? Oh dear. I’m not.. This isn’t how I...”

“You just ate my pussy until I screamed. I don’t care if you look disheveled, Mortimer,” Louisa laughed, shaking her head. “You look... dashing.”

“I do?”

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