Page 48 of Christmas Cheer

It’s the progression of a cheerleader flipping in the air after being tossed.

“Oh fuck,” I whisper. “This is too much.” I start to strain at the tie, needing to go. Needing to get distance. “Please, Evan.”

Panic sets in, but Evan does little more than sit on the edge of the sofa at my hip, kiss my forehead, and blow out a soft shush between his teeth to calm me back down.

“It’s not too much. You just forgot what we are. You fought us so hard, and then you told yourself we were too late, and then you pushed me away at the first opportunity.”

I tear my eyes from his, doing my best not to get sucked into his gaze.

He pushes up my sweater and strokes my belly, rubbing the swell. “I’m happy no matter where we are. You, here, this is my happy. Whatever else is just extra, that’s all you. Find your happy, and mine will be there.”

“This doesn’t mean anything!” I insist, already regretting my decision to take what I wanted as he leans down and kisses my belly. His lips are so tortuously gentle and reverent that my whole body curls.

He tugs my sweater up further, ignoring the way I resist him by digging my shoulders in. With the smooth leather beneath me, the fleece slides easily, ultimately ending up tangled with his tie and loose strands of hair.

Evan’s eyes train to mine as he traces the vee cut into my breasts by the lacy seam of my bralette and slides his finger under the band at my rib cage. His gaze only dips down after the bralette has joined my sweater, and of course he breaks into the dopiest smile. “They’re bigger already, aren’t they?”

I roll my eyes, a feeble attempt to play it cool when really, I’m burning up. Especially when he cups them in his gigantic hands, easily curling his thumbs around my nipples.

Already standing tall. Already making my breath hitch.

“Fuck, Keira. Are they more sensitive now, too?” He doesn’t hesitate to take my areola into his mouth to draw on it, sucking gently but deeply, staring hard at me as I twist beneath him.

Hot sparks race through me, triggering all kinds of sensations.

Of needs.

“Evan, please,” I whimper, which makes him lift his head but not release me. My core knots at the sharp tug. “I need you.”

The moan he responds with vibrates across the nipple, triggering an avalanche inside. I can’t control any single part of myself, not my bucking pelvis or my curling toes or my cries of pleasure. I’m already on the edge of orgasming.

“Fuck, Keira. Fuck.” Evan’s tone is frantic as he strips my leggings and panties all the way to my shoes before getting hung up there. He scrambles to tug my shoes off before pitching everything across the room. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard. Is that okay? I’m gonna fuck you, but can it be hard?”

“Now!” I sob, half rolling over in a bid to feel something, anything, while he’s standing next to me, but then he’s grabbing my knees and pushing them up to my chest.

Gently.

Cautiously.

Spreading them weirdly. He knows how flexible I am. He can pretty much toss them anywhere, and instead he’s being surgically precise.

“Just fuck me,” I groan, the exposure of my soaked pussy to the air-conditioned room enough to have me bucking and straining at his tie again.

Sweat is beading on the dipshit’s forehead as he grumbles, “I just don’t want to crush Shelby!”

“Evan, look at me. Right about now, the only thing I want to do is grab you by the hair and drag you through my legs until your cock is lined up with my pussy. And if you don’t get that cock inside me, I would happily scalp you to prove my point. I haven’t gotten fucked in four months, and I blew up my vibrator trying to figure out how to charge it with a German socket, and my hormones have me ready to hump this fucking sofa. I can’t do any of that because I’m tied to this end table, but I’m pretty sure if I try hard enough, I can pick it up and smash it into your face. Fuck. Me.”

Evan scrambles up on top of me and slams his cock into my pussy in record time. It hurts despite how keyed up I am, his cock as thick and long as ever, but every sensation is a good sensation at this point. My pussy immediately clutches him, claiming him.

This is mine.

He is mine.

He’s a fucking asshole and a dipshit, he’s done some seriously fucked-up shit, and not just getting me pregnant, but he’s mine.

His kiss is every bit as violent as his penetration. With my hands tied up, there’s nothing I can do except let him ravage me. Luxuriate in it. Feel human again in the most primal, visceral way as he fucks me hard enough he’ll have to carry me to bed after this.

“I fucking love you,” he groans when I bite his bottom lip. “This is mine. This mouth, these tits, this pussy, this baby growing in you, they’re all mine.”

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