Page 14 of Dirty Little Christmas

"Wow," I whisper.

He grunts, carrying me down the steps toward the bed. At five-ten, I'm not remotely close to short. But his bed is so high up, I think I'll need a ladder to climb into it. He deposits me in it, laying me back. I sink into it like a cloud, groaning in pure bliss.

I groan again when he crawls over me, planting his arms on either side of my head. He keeps his weight off me, just staring at me like he can't look away.

"This became the best fucking Christmas I've ever had when you called me daddy the first time today, Georgia," he says, his voice soft. His lips brush mine, as soft as his voice.

"It's not Christmas yet."

"Feels like it," he mutters, nipping at my bottom lip. "Feels like my birthday, Thanksgiving, and the Fourth of July, too."

"For me too," I whisper.

"You're scared of what's between us."

"That's the thing, Blaze," I whisper, shaking my head. "The fact that I'mnotscared is what scares me."

"Why, little one?"

"Because I love it so much," I admit, my voice shaking with sincerity. "Because I've never wanted anything like this before."Tears fill my eyes, though I'm not sure why. Maybe because I've never felt this vulnerable or exposed before. When he looks at me, heseesme, in ways no one else has. Those cocoa eyes sift right through every secret thought, coax out every hidden desire. "What if…what if I want more than you?"

I don't know how to guard my heart against him when he already possesses every inch of it. He could crush it so easily. That's what scares me. The fact that I want to drown myself in him and never come up for air again. I want to be his baby girl, not just tonight but permanently. Iwantto give myself over to him and this thing raging like a fire between us. If he doesn't want it the same way, there won't be enough of my heart left to put back together.

"You think I don't want it, Georgia?"

"I'm scared you don't want it the same way. That…that this doesn't mean the same thing to you that it does to me, Blaze. It meanseverythingto me. I want you to mean it when you say you want to marry me," I whisper, feeling shy, probably for the first time in my life. It's silly. This man has seen more of me than anyone else, butthisis what makes me feel shy.

"Little one," he whispers, a gentle rebuke in his voice. "You think I don't mean it? That I'd let you go now? That I could let you go now?" His eyes tell the truth I've been so afraid to look for, the one I need more than I need my next breath. "Never, baby girl.Never.You're my fuckingworld."

"Blaze," I whisper, hot tears of relief spilling down my cheeks.

He kisses each one away, his beard tickling my lips. And then his are locked on them, claiming them in a searing kiss that echoes in my soul. I feel him in there, burrowing deep. Taking up residence like he owns the place.

This man.God, the way he makes me feel. His kisses are intoxicating, far more powerful than the whiskey I tasted in the limo. Every single one sends a bolt of pure lust through me. Itstrikes against the pleasure center deep in my womb and ripples outward to consume all of me. I feel it rising inside of me like an electrical charge building. It crackles against my skin, humming with energy. When it finally detonates, it'll shake my world.

"I'm so fucking in love with you it's making me crazy," he breathes against my lips.

"Me too," I admit, writhing beneath him in anticipation. In bliss. How many times have I dreamed about him saying that to me? Every day since I met him. Every night too. I needed to hear it with a desperation I've never felt before.

"I know." His lips curve into a smile. "You've been a naughty little thing, baby girl."

"Only because you weren't paying attention."

"Paying attention? Baby girl, I haven't gotten a single fucking thing done since you waltzed into my office two months ago," he growls, kissing his way down my neck to my chest. "All I do is obsess over you. Are you happy? Did you sleep well? Are the horny little motherfuckers on campus leaving you alone? Did you eat?" He punctuates each question with a kiss to the tops of my breasts, lavishing attention on them. "You'reallI think about. Every single moment of the day."

"Blaze," I gasp, writhing beneath that talented mouth. I knew his beard felt good against my skin, but damn. This is next level amazing. "Really? You think about all that?"

"You think me being your daddy is all about wanting to fuck you, Georgia?"

"No…well, I hope not," I admit. "I…um…"

"Tell me."

"I want that," I blurt, squeezing my eyes closed. "For you to f-fuck me, I mean. But I also want other stuff. Daddy stuff."

He chuckles, his body shifting against mine. "I plan to fuck you, baby girl. Repeatedly. I'm going to teach you all sorts of wicked things in this bed," he growls, yanking my top downto expose my breasts. My bra drags across my nipples, pulling a moan from me. "I'm going to suck on these pretty little things until you're pleading for mercy and eat you until you're screaming. I'm going to fuck you until you think you're going to break. But I'm also going to take care of you, little one. That's what a daddy does. He takes care of his baby girl."

"Oh," I whisper, a weight falling off my shoulders I didn't even realize I carried. He does understand. I think part of me was afraid he wouldn't. I think I worried that the things I want from him would somehow make me less than he is, but I was wrong. I'm not inferior to him, not at all. He doesn't want them less than I do. We're equals in this, two sides of the same coin. Yin and yang.

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