Page 171 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Do you want me to fuck you from behind?”

She doesn’t answer, so I reach around her and slip my finger between her legs, finding her sensitive spot. She moans.

“Do you want me to fuck you from behind, Mary?” I repeat, increasing the tempo.

“Oh, God. Yes.” Her voice is jagged and tight.

I reach down and guide the tip of my cock inside her.

She gasps, and I give her a second before I slip into her, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated.

“Oh, God. Jace.”

“I’m going to make you come again, Mary. I’m going to make you come hard. Do you want to come hard?”

“Yes.” Her breathless response is nearly my undoing.

I slowly slide almost all the way out, then back in. I pause to stroke between her legs before thrusting in again. And again. I pick up the pace, one hand reaching around her to rub her while the other cradles her hip. She pushes back against me, murmuring soft pleas.

Her head is cradled against a pillow, turned to the side. Strands of her hair are plastered to her damp cheeks, and she’s so damn sexy, her bare back and round ass lifted to me, the way she’s matching the pace I’m setting…

I lean over her back and keep one hand between her legs but slide the other under and reach for her breast, pinching her nipple.

She cries out in surprise and pleasure.

“Not yet, Mary,” I growl into her ear. “Don’t come yet.”

I’m pumping harder, faster, needing to be deeper, closer, needing more of her, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.

I can feel her tightening, poised for an orgasm. Releasing her breast, I grab her hip again, tilting her ass upward, and fuck her hard.

“Oh, God. Jace!” she cries out.

“Come for me, Mary.”

When she comes, it’s a thing of beauty, the way she totally releases all inhibition, thrusting back wildly as I pump into her.

I grab both of her hips and plunge into her, aware of nothing else but her gorgeous body beneath me still riding her orgasm. The need to have every part of her that she’s offering takes over everything.

Finally, I come, grunting as I give one last, hard thrust.

One thought comes to mind: Mary has ruined me for other women.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MARY

After Jace disposes of the condom, I head into the bathroom to clean up. I thought about wrapping a sheet around my body, but the way he looks at me—as if he didn’t get enough, as if he can’t—Ilikeit. I stare at myself in the mirror, and I don’t recognize the woman I see. My cheeks are rubbed a little raw from Jace’s beard, but that’s not the real difference. There’s a new brightness to me, as if I’m Aidan’s dinosaur lamp, lit from within.

I can practically hear Molly telling me this is what a good orgasm does for a woman. Of course, she doesn’t know my secret. Only Glenn (shudder), Nicole, and Jace know. That should be embarrassing—mortifying—but…

Well, actually, it still is, but I can’t bring myself to care the way I usually would.

I don’t know what’s happening to me.

It’s like the painting on the wall cast a spell on me, the vivid red of that streak dancing into my soul, or maybe it was Jace who did that. Becauseheis the one who had me Googling bra and panty sets well after sunset the other night. And he is the one who made me realize that I don’t like blank walls and beige duvet covers and phones with their factory settings retained.

He is the one who made me want to dance again, and even though I’m out of shape, it felt so good, like slipping into the skin of a different Mary, one I lost somewhere along the way.

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