Page 77 of Mistletoe

She rocked back and forth, driving him deeper into her. She cupped her breasts, riding him. “You’re so good,” she moaned.

In a flash, they were on the floor. On all fours, she braced herself. Both his hands gripped her hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. She wanted the bruises. She wanted all of him, the raw strength, the rough appearance, and the thoughtful soul. All of him, as he was.

He pumped into her, driving deeper. An unexpected sensation bumped into her back entrance.

His thorn.

She came quickly, overwhelmed by the new feeling. No one had ever—not there. The new sensation made her shake and cry out in pleasure. She collapsed to her elbows, face pressed to the floor.

Hal’s pace grew erratic. She felt him swell and shudder. He fell forward, covering her. His strokes slowed, growing measured.

“You feel so…” he managed to say before groaning again. His cock jerked and twitched again. This time, she felt his seed leak out of her.

“I love you,” she whispered. She wanted to lift her face for a kiss, but the size difference would not allow it. She settled by kissing his arm.

His strokes slowed but did not stop. “I failed. You were meant to use me, but I could not control myself.”

“A high compliment. Are you?—”

His hips bucked into her, making her groan. He wasn’t done yet. Neither was she.

“On your back,” she said.

He rolled over, and they switched positions. She straddled him, taking him as deeply as he would go. His thorn hit her clit perfectly while he stretched her to capacity. With a hand planted on his chest, she rocked forward. It wouldn’t take long to find her release.

Hal watched her ride him, awe in his eyes. He had beautiful, expressive eyes. She didn’t know how she ever thought he was hideous. His good soul shone through.

Pleasure coiled in her, turning tighter and tighter until she could only cry it out. Her thighs burned and trembled.

“Yes, Hal. Yes, my good man,” she chanted, her voice breathy. Her heart pounded. She ached and burned.

He twisted his fingers into her hair, tugging lightly. “My love.”

Bliss crested, sweeping over her with fury. She shuddered, unable to catch her breath. Her senses were overwhelmed. To move even a fraction would start it all over again.

She fell forward, collapsing on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, murmuring sweet words. His heart beat steady and true.

“You’re mine,” she said.

“I’m yours,” he agreed.

“I won’t let you go.”

“You won’t be able to get rid of me. I traveled across the stars to find you. I will always be yours.”

A greedy contentment settled over her at his words.

Her good man.

Hal

Scratching at the door woke Hal. The cat demanded entrance. The moment Hal opened the door, she trotted to the bed.

“She likes you. She doesn’t like anyone,” Emma said, her voice groggy.

The cat, Clover, climbed immediately onto Hal’s pillow. He gently lifted the cat, setting her on Emma, while he reclaimed his spot. Soon, the cat was on him, kneading him with her paws.

“I like her too,” he said. There had been feral cats in the neighborhood he grew up in; they roamed the streets and kept the mouse population under control. He loved those half-wild cats, petting them when they allowed, but he never had the money to properly care for a pet.

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