Page 51 of Sinning for Santa

The thought makes me smirk, and I relax against the door frame as Melissa brushes past Jaxcen and scurries out of the bar.

“Who was that?” She has the nerve to ask.

“None of your business.” My gaze drops down the length of her body and back up, taking in the strappy dress she chose to wear with the strappy sandals, and my eyes narrow at the fact I cannot see a mauve bra strap which should be noticeable, given the straps of the dress. “I see you’ve already disobeyed me.”

She frowns. “What do you mean? No, I haven’t.”

Pushing off the door frame I take a step back inside my office and gesture my head for her to follow. She only hesitates a moment beforestepping inside, her curious gaze travelling over everything in sight.

I watch as she approaches my desk and runs the pad of her finger over the rich oak wood before spinning to face me.

“So this is where you—” she gasps at my nearness, even as I press myself up against her front and lift her to place her arse on my desk. “What are you doing?”

I don’t answer, keeping my eyes locked with hers as I glide my hand up her side before cupping her breast to feel her nipple pebble under my touch.

Fuuuck. Just that simple touch has my cock waking up.

“Where’s the bra?” I snap, and she stiffens.

“I… well if I wore it you’d see the straps,” she explains, “so I decided to go braless.”

I growl, “For all my men to see these?” I pinch her nipple and she cries out, arching her back so her tits press harder against my touch.

“No… that’s not why,” she breathes, clearly affected by the sensation of having her nipple stimulated, and I want to protest, but all I can think about is the tight peak of her nipple, and having it in my mouth.

Giving in, I lean down and take the hard bud into my mouth, dress fabric and all, and a whimper escapes her.

As I scrape my teeth over her nipple, her nails dig into my shoulders and her legs part wider to allow me closer as I stand between them. Releasing her nipple, I drop to my knees while hitching the fabric of her dress up to reveal the mauve lacy panties I chose for her.

I’m fucking starved, just the sight of the wet patch darkening the satin crotch of her panties has me surging forward and pressing my nose to her core to breathe her in.

“I… what… oh…” She’s lost for words, and I wonder if she’s ever had a man’s face between her legs before.

Just the thought that I could be the first has me shifting away to hook her panties in my fingers and tug them off her legs.

“What are you doing?” she breathes, panic in her tone.

“What does it look like, little mouse?” I ease her legs wider, my gaze dropping to the pink satin flesh, already swollen and wet with arousal, a small neatly groomed arrow of hair pointing towards her clit like it’s saying, ‘press here.’

Fuuuck. I love a well groomed woman, and I don’t mind some hair. It seems unnatural and childlike when women have bare cunts, and it fucking deflates my cock.

But not Jaxcen.

She may be only twenty-four, but she’s all fucking woman.

When all she can do is stare wide-eyed at me, I point above us, and watch her head tip back as she spots the mistletoe above us.

“What?” She frowns, her gaze returning to mine. “You’re meant to kiss under a mistletoe.”

I grin wickedly and nod before closing the distance and flicking my tongue over her needy clit.

“Oh!” she cries out before slapping her hand over her mouth, her wide eyes shooting to the door, clearly worried someone will overhear.

Like I give a fuck.

“Stop, Devon. That’s not a kiss.”

When she tries to shove my head away, I snag her wrist and growl.

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