Page 67 of Pining for Christmas

“Please.” The words tumble out of me on a groan, my legs shifting as wide as my half-lowered leggings will allow. “Please, Reid. Fuck me. Please, I need your cock.”

There’s a soft sigh behind me. Then the clink of Reid’s belt buckle, followed by the scratchy sound of his zipper.

Yes.I wiggle my ass, breathless with anticipation.

This felt so good last night. So full andright.Like I’ve been wandering around feeling hollow for my whole life without even realizing it.

There’s no better feeling than Reid Merryweather thrusting deep into my body. Nothing I want more than his strength at my back, his hot breath on my ear, his hands, his cock, his love. All of it.

The broad head of his shaft slides between my legs, getting slick. Toying with me. As my pulse thuds in my wrists, my throat, my clit, I sigh against the bookcase and focus every ounce of my attention on that feeling.

How hard he is. The satin-soft feel of his skin. The moisture that beads from the tip, tickling me and mingling with my own wetness, and the bruising way Reid grasps my hips.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

I nod, too worked up to speak. Too desperate.

“Okay. Breathe out, relax.”

A strong, masculine hand strokes up the length of my spine, soothing some of my jitters as his shaft nudges my entrance. And Reid sinks inside me smoothly, stretching me with his girth, with less resistance than yesterday.

Guess I’m adapting to him. Fitting to his body.

I like that idea.

Like the idea of wandering around the office, making copies and doing tasks, while both of us know that beneath my skirt, I’m tailor-made for his cock. That he could bend me over the desk and slide home any time he wants, and I’d fit him like a glove.

What is wrong with me?

Ugh, who cares? It’s hot, and Reid loves me, so whatever.

“Fuck,” he grits out once he’s all the way in, the fronts of his thighs brushing my trembling legs. “Do you know how goddamn good you feel, Noelle?”

My head rocks from side to side as my boss starts to move behind me, pushing in and drawing out. Starting slow, then finding a rhythm.

Can’t breathe. Can’t think.

“You don’t?” Reid’s laugh is dark. Strained. That low sound makes my belly twist, my channel gripping him tighter. “Let me show you, then. Let me fuck you how you deserve.”

Hell. Yes.

And I always rolled my eyes at my stern boss, always teased him for his crankiness. But Ilovehis bossiness now, how strict he is, how in control as he thrusts me against the bookcase andfucks me into a needy puddle. Since he’s got me locked down for life, he’s even more confident than before—master of the universe.

“You’re mine.” A large hand reaches around my waist and grips my mound, squeezing my pussy even as his cock keeps plunging in and out. “This is mine. Forever, you hear? All mine.”

“Y-yours.” My voice is weak, thready, but only because this feels so freaking good. It’s overwhelming. “Reid, I’m yours.”

And he’s mine.

The man growling and thrusting quicker behind me, strumming my clit—that’s my future husband. My forever guy. Has anyone ever been so lucky, in the long history of lovelorn assistants?

They can’t have been.

And the pleasure builds and builds, growing heavy in my lower belly, twisting tighter until I can hardly bear it. Until I’m begging, babbling, moaning like a champ.

I clamp down on Reid’s shaft, coming so hard my ears pop.

And he buries deep, then fills me up with a groan.

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