“What are you waiting for?”
I get my answer in his touch. He traces my lips with his thumb, then slides his fingertips over my jaw to my throat. Down my neck to my shoulder, then across the swell of each of my breasts with a light touch to my throbbing nipples, James traces all of me. I feel oddly exposed under the intensity of his gaze, and yet there’s such care in the way he squeezes my breast and then continues his path over my abdomen to my soaked pussy and overheating thighs.
It’s like he’s mapping out every detail of me for some mental portrait.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs again, then he rolls against me and his rock-hard cock presses against my hip.
“Do you want me to beg?” I gasp against his lips. “Because I will.” I ache to feel him against me, inside me. I want his pants in my ear, his moans in the air, and his thick cock so deep inside me that it’s impossible to tell where I end and he begins.
“That’s kinda hot.” James grins and our eyes meet. “Beg for my cock, Lily. Tell me how eagerly you want it.”
“I don’t want it,” I moan softly, and my core clenches. “I need it. It’s all I can think about. I need to feel your dick spearing me open, sliding so deep that I can feel you with each breath. I need your balls slapping my ass, your hand in my hair, your mouth on my tits. I need you everywhere, and making me wait is cruel?—”
He kisses me feverishly, ending my breathless tirade of begging. James thrusts his tongue into my mouth, and I suck eagerly as he pries my thighs apart and situates himself between them. The lights tighten around my limbs, but it’s strangely erotic to feel restricted. I’d never been tied up before, but the restraining lights unlock something inside me and I thrust my hips up against James.
“Yes,” I moan deeply when the next kiss breaks. “Take me,” I beg. “Please, just fuck me already!”
James obliges with a single deep thrust that sheaths himself so deep inside me that all air is punched from my lungs and a strained whimper escapes my kiss-flushed lips.
Yes.
James starts to fuck me immediately, hard and fast, while his mouth kisses and nibbles across my breasts. He keeps one hand against my lightly bound wrists and the other trails over my abdomen, caressing my body as he fucks into me with wild abandon. I have no room for thoughts, only acknowledgment of the rapidly building fire of pleasure deep within my core.
I chant his name over and over as I soar higher and higher, and soon, he fucks my second orgasm out of me with a scream. But he doesn’t stop there. He continues to fuck me, rolling me ontomy stomach and pulling me up onto my knees, then he re-enters me and pounds with a new, deeper angle.
I’m a complete mess, utterly at the mercy of his thrusts and wandering hands. He praises me constantly, massaging my breasts and sliding one of his hands between my soaked thighs to tease and toy with my clit until I’m quivering apart underneath him. His touch is almost too much for my sensitive body, but that only spurs him on, and by the time James comes inside me, he’s fucked a third orgasm out of my exhausted body.
Merry fucking Christmas.
We spend twenty minutes on the floor, utterly spent and exhausted, until James untangles me from the lights and moves me to the couch.
I lie there, exhausted, while he kindly cleans me up with a towel and brews us some fresh coffee. Then we cuddle on the couch under blankets and pick at the strudel he brought.
“Wow,” I murmur, slowly licking jam from my fingertips. “That was amazing.”
“You were phenomenal,” James says, kissing my shoulder.
“I like that.” I giggle. “Keep that coming.”
He kisses back up my neck, and the warmth that builds between us would surely lure me to sleep if I didn’t roll over in his arms and see something strange in his eyes.
Is he… unhappy?
“James?” I cup his face gently. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m gonna worry. Did I do something?”
James’s eyes widen, then he turns his head into my hand and kisses my palm. “No, babe. No. Not a thing. I was just… thinking.”
“About?”
“Well…” He takes a deep breath. “You and Emma and your grandparents have taught me how important a loving, caring family is. And then I think about my own mother and I feel guilty for telling her I’m cutting her off.”
“You had good reason,” I say softly, studying his face. “Do you regret it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? It was a heat-of-the-moment decision. I don’t at all excuse what she did to you or what she has done to me, but she is my mom, y’know?”