Page 38 of Pining for Christmas

And maybe I can babble my way out of this; can say I hit my head in the pool or something. Maybe I can lie my ass off and make this okay again.

But: “Liar,” Saxon says softly, and he still hasn’t moved. Hasn’t touched his mouth to my desperate body, but hasn’t leaned back either. Is he repulsed or not, damn it? I’m losing my mind here, sweating and shivering in the center of my giant bed.

“Don’t be mad,” I whisper, and Saxon’s head jerks up. Gray eyes fix on me, ravenous and barely restrained.

“I’m not mad, Alison.” Two big hands grip my bikini shorts and tear them in half, merciless and matter of fact, and I yelp, body rippling toward the ceiling. The shreds of red and white fabric fly over Saxon’s shoulder, landing somewhere with a softwhump.“I want to hear it again.”

“D-daddy,” I say, forcing the word through chattering teeth. Everything about this is so much, so intense, and I can barely stand it, even as I desperately want more. “I said please, daddy.”

And Saxongroans,burying his face between my legs.

It’s hot and wet and tingly and torturous, his tongue swiping the length of my slit and rubbing at my clit. Saxon leaves no part of me untasted, shows no mercy even when I gasp and writhe and moan, and every time I call outthat name, it only spurs him on.

He likes this too?

He… feels the same way?

Like he’s mine and I’m his; like he watches over me. Protects me. And in return, I’ll be Saxon’s good girl and I’ll make him feel so loved, I’ll let him work out all his stress and frustrations on my body, I’ll take such good care of him too—

The crack of his palm against my ass makes me howl, pulse thudding between my thighs, and I hope Saxon can breathe down there because he’s wearing my thighs like ear muffs.

“Again,” he grunts, mouth still sealed against my slit, and I gasp out his new name again.

“Daddy.”

On and on it goes, until I’m worked into a shuddering heap on the bed, my back damp with sweat and my chlorine-scented hair spilling over the covers.

I come with his tongue inside me. With my eyes screwed shut, and my heart so full, and waves of pleasure crashing through my body.

Then Saxon kneels up, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and shrugs off his suit jacket.

“Stay there, baby girl. I’m not done with you yet.”

Saxon

You know, I thought I knew my place in the world. Thought I understood myself and my innermost cravings. Then Alison Wainwright opens her pretty mouth and calls methatname, begs me like that, and I…

Turns out I don’t know anything at all.

Because in all my thirty nine years on this earth, it never once occurred to me. Never even crossed my mind that hearing her call medaddywould be something I’d want or crave. But the second Ali whined it, the second she declared me her lover and protector in that singular way, everything changed. My whole universe flipped upside down and rearranged.

Daddy.

The title thuds through me with each frantic heartbeat, flooding my muscles, my nerves, my veins. It’s rewritten in my damn DNA, and as I lick Alison into a writhing heap, as I make her come and come and come…

I’m a different man.

Made new.

Thisman is done with stolen single kisses made okay with mistletoe sprigs. This man is done with sneaking around and feeling guilty; with worrying about age gaps and other people’s reactions. With holding back.

I’m done. Suddenly and completely past that shit.

“You’re mine,” I grit out as I shrug off my white button-down shirt, tossing it over my shoulder to join my suit jacket and tie.Alison lays beneath me on the bed, pink-cheeked and so pliant, her chest heaving and her limbs askew. And those blue eyes as they stare up at me are filled with such worship, my heart gives an unsteady lurch. “Mine, you hear?”

“Yes.” Her smile is full of adoration. Full of relief. “I’ve been yours for a long time.”

As if to prove it, she waits patiently as I strip the rest of my clothes, then lets me grab her legs and yank her further down the bed. Lets me crawl on top of her like a predator. Everything I do, every growl and squeeze and hungry grunt, makes her smile like it’s Christmas.

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