Page 13 of His Taste Of Christmas

As we step into her room, a small smile appears on my face. It's a simple room, furnished with a king-size bed, desk and wardrobe. Standing by the edge of her bed, she absentmindedly picks at her nails while staring down at the floor. I walk towards her and place my finger under her chin, directing her attention towards me. The moment her green eyes twinkle up at me, the world disappears. I pause to take a deep breath, bothered by the discomfort in my chest. This moment is what I have been waiting for, for so long and I almost thought I would never be here and have this moment with her. It doesn’t feel real.

I gently bring my lips to Angel's and kiss her. I use my tongue to press against her lips, seeking entrance. I don’t rush it; I kiss her slowly, conveying that I’ll go at the pace she wants. I can’t get enough of her. I’m undoubtedly desperate for Angel. Her taste, her smell, her moans. I want it all.

I want Angel to feel as desperate for me as I do for her.

I want her to go crazy with need with every swipe of my tongue the way I do hers.

I don’t think there is a drug out there more intoxicating than Angel O’Sullivan. She’s an addiction I never want to lose and a fix I’ll crave for the rest of my life. I gently move away. A frown mars her face, as if me pulling away makes her unhappy, which only serves to make me smile. Her big, hooded eyes meet mine. “Since when have you wanted this?” I question. Contrary to my expectations, she doesn't hide away.

“Way longer than I should have,” she admits. “I think about you a lot,” she continues. Hearing this sends a surge of pride to my chest.

“How have you thought about me?” I want to know how she thinks about me and when. What does she do? I am eager to learn every detail. Her head tilts down as if she can’t hold eye contact with me, her shyness still clear. “Angel,” I mumble. “Tell me. I told you the things I’ve been thinking about you.” I remind her of what I said downstairs.

“I've had lots of fantasies about you,” she confesses. Her chest moves up and down at a rapid pace as if she's in a heightened state, thinking back to those fantasies as we speak. Her hooded eyes are mirroring exactly how I'm feeling.

“You've had fantasies about me?” I question her. It feels like all the blood is heading south and pooling in my cock, hardening with every second and becoming uncomfortable against my jeans’ zipper. Her mouth opens slightly as if it’s come too much for her to breathe through her nose. She nods, not breaking eye contact, but my favourite cherry-red stain graces her cheeks.

“Show me,” I demand, not taking my eyes off her. Her confidence doesn't waver, but her face creases with a frown.

Her eyebrows furrow and her face scrunches slightly as she asks, “What?” Her eyes anxiously dance between mine, as if she’s anticipating my explanation. Her innocence tempts me to loosen my restraint and bury myself deep inside her while I bend her in fucking half until she screams my name, but I have to go slow. If I lose control, I'll completely ruin her.

“Show me how you fantasise about me.” I force myself to speak, attempting to regain control. With bulging eyes, she opens and closes her mouth multiple times.

“Uh…”

She looks like a deer caught in headlights. Her body trembles visibly as I lightly brush my lips against her ear. “I want to seeevery movement and hear every moan that leaves those sweet lips when you think of me, Angel.”

Chapter eleven

Angel

He wants me to show him.

I can’t.

I can barely put together a sentence in front of this guy. How can I show him what I do when thinking about him? His dark eyes lock onto mine, no longer filled with their golden hue. I move my head in a side-to-side motion. I feel so humiliated that I want to cry, but I can't physically do it. My body won’t let me do anything.

“I can’t.” I bow my head, silently pleading that my tears stay hidden. He is aware of my age, but why must I be so inexperienced? My deepest fantasies could become a reality now, but I can't even pleasure myself for him.

“Angel, eyes on me.” His soft voice begins to soothe my inner turmoil. I tilt my head up, avoiding direct eye contact by looking slightly past him. His eyes have a profound effect on me, making me feel incredibly vulnerable.

“Angel, it’s okay. Why don't you share with me what you do, and I'll take care of it.” His voice cracks as he utters the final words. I watch how his chest rapidly expands and hishands tightly clench into fists. Once again, this man leaves me speechless and I can only nod my head. With a gentle hand on my shoulder he pushes me into a seated position on the bed.

“Angel, what do you want me to do first?” His rough voice sends shivers down my spine as I glance up at him.

“Ki-kiss me,” I stutter. I remain unconvinced of the reality of this. Mr Hayes bends over me, guiding me to lay down. Our lips meet instantly in a slow, passionate kiss, our tongues entwining in a captivating dance.

“What now?” He breathes harshly. The physical sensation of his loss of control, as his body trembles over me, boosts my confidence.

“Kiss down my body.”

A slight groan escapes his lips as he kisses his way down my body, starting from my lips and moving to my jawline and neck. Gradually, he moves down my neck, pausing when he reaches my dress, his gaze travelling down my body.

“I need you, naked. Now,” he desperately begs as he yanks my arm out of the dress at an awkward angle, like he can’t wait a moment longer. The realisation of what is happening hits me.Shit.

“Carter, I—”

He momentarily freezes before his hands cradle my face. “What’s my name, Angel?” I only called him Carter to appear more mature, but the truth is, I love calling him Mr Hayes, and he clearly enjoys it as well.

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