Page 32 of A Guardian for Christmas

“Still true,” he says.

“God, I hope so,” I say, thinking of all the things that haunt me day in and day out when he’s not here. When I don’t have friends to drown out the noise.

“There’s one more,” he says.

The size of the bulge in the sheet does not prepare me for what happens next. I tug the sheet away to reveal the stiff shaft, longand thick, pointing upward toward his navel. I can’t help but gasp, feeling fascinated and a little intimidated all at once.

“Can I …”

“Yes, for the love of god, yes,” he grits out through his teeth.

Instead, I trail my fingers over the lowest tattoo, just above the furry pleasure trail, and try not to think of whoever might have been the one to tattoo him here, in this almost-too-intimate place. Universum Coniungitur.

“The interconnection of the universe.”

The rise and fall of his chest speeds when I touch that hard length, noticing that my thumb and forefinger don’t quite reach. The thought of what this means makes my blood heat while I shiver at the same time. I don’t know if I can take something that big inside me.

But let’s not overthink this, as he says.

His jaw clenched, Sagan warns me, “Too gentle…too fucking gentle.”

It takes a moment to figure out what he means, and when it hits me, my pussy weeps. He needs it to be rougher, and the thought of that excites me and scares me.

My mouth waters, and I swallow it down. “Sh…show me.”

“Do you have any…never mind…lick your hand,” he says in a rush. “Please.”

He curses as he watches me do exactly as he says. “Damn dirty little girl.”

Once again, my brain hates it while my body loves it. I am positively leaking everywhere.

With a growl, he covers my tentative grip with his, guiding my damp hand up and down on his shaft. The skin is warm and surprisingly soft and pliable as I fist him.

“That’s it. Shit…baby…I’m gonna…fuck, that’s too good…”

It’s a heady feeling, watching him come undone with only my very inexperienced hand on his huge, rigid cock.

Two pumps, and he explodes despite his resolve to last longer. Hot liquid covers my hand. Sagan lets out a loud curse, his body stiffening, arcing off the mattress. His noisy climax is all rumbles and grunts, and I ache to feel him do that while buried inside me.

I did that. I did that to this lumberjack of a man.

And I’ll never want to do that to anyone else.

Chapter Fourteen

Sagan

I’ve made a mess in Esme’s perfect hands.

I go to the bathroom to clean up and grab a hot towel for Esme.

She eyes me curiously.

“Sex towel,” I say. “You know, for your hands, and other stuff.”

She takes it and says, “That’s so nice of you.”

“Bare minimum for any dude to get his partner a sex towel.”

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