Page 40 of Pining for Christmas

And I’d be ashamed of this fact, I’d be embarrassed by the confessions spilling from my lips—except that Alisonlovesthem, moaning and bucking her hips, clearly getting off on the fact that she’s wrecked me so badly. Getting high on her effect on me.

Well, if that’s what she likes… then I guess that’s what I like, too.

“So that’s what you wanna hear, huh?” I push up on my hands, thrusting so hard her tits jiggle, watching my girl with narrowed eyes. The room around us is all moonlight and shadows, the sounds from the party outside muted by the glass windows. Red and gold fireworks explode out there, bursting over the night sky.

“You want to hear how I can’t control myself with you? You want to watch me lose my cool? Turn me into some ten-pumpchump, losing my goddamn mind over your perfect pussy? That’s what you want?”

And Alibeamsup at me, her whole body rocking with my thrusts, and nods that beautiful head. “Yes, daddy. That’s what I want.”

Jesus.

My hips slam harder, punishing her with each thrust. And Alison takes it all, lets me use her and drip sweat on her and tug her nipples between my teeth, moaning like it’s the best thing she’s ever felt.

“No more parties after this.” I force each word between gritted teeth, because my whole body is coiled tight now, desperate to come. Every second I hold off is a goddamn miracle, my body stroking into hers, lighting up every nerve ending.

“No more Wainwright mansion. No more shitty Christmases and sad little bucket lists that break my heart. You’re coming home with me, you hear? You don’t need another bodyguard when you’re with me. You’re mine now, Ali.Mine.”

“Oh, please!”

Alison comes for a second time with her little hand jammed between us, rubbing away at her clit, her knuckles brushing my belly. And the second she clamps down on me, the second those ripples shudder through her body, I drop to my elbows on top of her and follow with a roar.

It’s so good it’s painful. Wrenched from the center of my body; from the depths of my fucking soul.

I fill her up with spurt after spurt, until she’s dripping on the bed and I need a gallon of water to recover.

And I may be an old bastard, but I’m already planning round two.

* * *

Three years later

“Close your eyes. You ready? Are they closed?”

Alison scoffs, climbing out of the truck with her mitten-clad hand in mine for balance. Snow crunches beneath her boot heel as she steps down, and a pine-scented breeze lifts her glossy dark hair. “I’m wearing a blindfold, Saxon. What does it matter?”

She can’t see my stern look, but I give her one anyway. “Don’t care. Close ‘em.”

“So bossy.” A smile plays around Ali’s mouth, and I squeeze her hand before I lead her to the cabin door.

Our steps are slow and careful, her balance wobbly without her vision, and you’d better believe I’m taking no risks with my pregnant wife as I guide her up the snowy steps. I’d better shovel and sweep those later before she comes this way again. When it comes to Alison, I play it safe.

She’s precious. The most important thing in my life by a country mile.

She has been since the moment I met her.

“It’s cold here,” Ali says, her head turning blindly as I fiddle with the key in the lock. “Smells fresh, too. Like how I imagine the mountains smell.”

There’s a real good reason for that, and Iknowthis is Ali’s dream, know this is the kind of place she’s always longed for, but I’m still buzzing with nerves as I get the door open and flick on the lights. As I scowl at the empty fireplace, heart sinking.

Should I go in there now and light the fire? Make the full impact?

But what if she gets cold waiting out on the deck?

“You’ve gone all quiet,” Ali observes, finding my shoulder after a few false attempts and rubbing me through my thick winter jacket. “Whatever you’re all frazzled about, it’ll be fine.”

“I’m thinking second thoughts.” It’s always so easy to confess things to Ali, even when she’s not blindfolded. She loves me the way I love her: with no reservations, and no take-backs. Even if I’ve miscalculated here, she’ll love me just the same, and it’s that thought that gets me breathing again. My shoulders relax, and I steer my wife into the doorway and face her at the cabin. “But here goes nothing. Surprise, baby girl.”

Her silky hair clings to the blindfold, but it tugs away easily. Ali gasps, staring wide-eyed into the cozy mountain home, and she claps her mittens together under her chin.

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