Page 25 of Stuffing His Stocking

She catches me staring and blushes, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. “Stop it,” she chastises playfully while swatting my arm.

I grin and sit up to kiss her. “Sorry. Can’t help it. You’re gorgeous.”

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the pleased smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

While worries of getting caught still linger in the back of my mind, I can’t seem to make myself care at this moment. So I drag her back into bed and spend the rest of the night showering her with kisses and orgasms.

A man like me could get used to this, and I’m hoping that I do.

9

LIV

Christmas Eve is just a day away, and the air is thick with excitement and anticipation. But if I’m being totally honest, the festive cheer has nothing on what Dylan and I have been stirring up. Ever since we first got together, it’s like we’ve unleashed some insatiable hunger in each other. Every stolen glance is a promise, every touch a prelude to our next tryst. We’ve been at each other like bunnies, and it’s been absolutely heavenly.

“Got the tickets. You ready?” Dylan asks, his sparkling green eyes lighting up like the holiday displays around us. The historic downtown theater is running its annual screening ofNational Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, and somehow, amidst the frenzy, we’ve decided to make a date of it.

“Can’t say no to a bit of holiday family dysfunction,” I reply, chuckling as we join the line of patrons trickling into the old theater. Its walls are adorned with red velvet and gold garlands, giving off that timeless charm that makes you feel like you’re stepping back into a simpler era.

I should be focused on Chevy Chase’s antics. Instead, my thoughts drift to the man next to me. Dylan—with his sandy-blond hair and muscular build that his simple sweater can’t hide—has a way of making my heart race without even trying. The movie rolls on and laughter fills the air, but all I can think about is touching him. It’s becoming a delicious kind of madness.

“Hey,” he whispers while leaning close. His breath is warm against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Need a bathroom break?”

“No, I’m good,” I reply before tossing more popcorn into my mouth.

“I think abreakwould be a good idea.”

I glance in his direction, and the mischievous glint in Dylan’s eyes tells me it isn’t nature calling. I nod, feeling a rush of heat wash over me while I try to hide my giddiness.

We rise from our seats, casual as can be, and stroll out to the lobby. I can feel the pulse of excitement thrumming between us as we walk hand in hand, pretending this is the most normal thing in the world.

But nothing about us is normal. Not really. We’re fire and gasoline, the former stepsiblings who aren’t supposed to burn so bright when they’re together. Yet, here we are. And the sex is hot enough to melt the North Pole.

We sneak off to the family restroom at the back of the building. As soon as the door shuts behind us, Dylan locks it and he’s on me in an instant. My back hits the cool tile wall, and any pretense of restraint vanishes. His lips find mine with an urgency that matches my own—a deep, searing kiss that speaks of all the times we’ve been together since that first night.

“God, I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs, his voice husky with need.

“Good,” I manage between kisses. “Because I don’t want you to stop.”

Our passion is an entity of its own, a testament to the raw connection that defies all the rules. Outside, the movie playson, forgotten by two people lost in their own private world. It’s reckless and maybe a little crazy, but as our hands explore and claim each other’s bodies, I know one thing is for certain: This is the best damn Christmas I’ve ever experienced.

The dishes clinkand the scent of sizzling bacon wafts up the stairs, nudging me awake. I blink away the remnants of sleep, my gaze settling on Dylan’s bare back as he dresses in the dim morning light. A playful grin spreads across his lips when he catches me.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in for a quick kiss that promises more. “You were supposed to go to your room.”

“Guess I was naughty. Is Santa gonna spank me?” I roll onto my stomach and slightly pop my naked ass into the air.

Dylan groans and grabs a handful of my plump flesh, giving it a subtle shake. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Or do you just like the possibility of getting caught?”

“Both,” I say, shimmying my hips to make my ass cheeks jiggle.

“Then we better make this quick.” His eyes glitter as his lips curl into a devilish grin.

In one fluid motion, he crawls over my body with his hard cock pressed between us. He turns my head to seal our mouths together, and urgency takes over us. There’s no time for slow exploration this morning. This is about seizing the moment before my mom catches us. So every movement we make is fast and fervent.

He instructs me to lift my hips before shoving a fluffy pillow beneath me. Then he raises my arms above my head and demands that I leave them there with my face pressed againstthe mattress. I arch my back and spread my thighs, allowing him better access to my pussy. And Dylan wastes no time finding my entrance and driving his long, thick cock deep inside me.

“God, Liv,” he breathes out as we move together. Every touch is electric, every whisper a secret pact between us. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”

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