Page 63 of Fake It 'Til You Sleigh It

Ethan presses my back against the cool tile. His searing lips glide like embers down my neck and along my collarbone, lingering on my breasts. He hungrily sucks my nipple into his mouth.

“Think you’re a director now?” I manage to gasp out.

Ethan’s lips curl into a wicked smile.“You’ll like me in charge. You’re already begging for my touch.”

I swallow hard, fighting the temptation to press myself against him. “Begging? You must be high. I don’t beg, I command.”

“Your nipples betray you. You want this as badly as I do. Maybe more.”

“It’s biological. Don’t read too much into it. I’m just curious how far you’ll go to convince me.”

He drops to his knees, and I gasp as he exhales a warm breath onto my aching center. The shower water pelts against his back, creating a shield that protects my sensitive clit from the relentless spray.

“Your mouth can deny it, but your body doesn’t lie. Come on, baby. Let me see how much you’re dripping for me.”

His strong hands spread my legs, and then—oh fuck—his tongue drags slowly across my clit. My back arches compulsively off the steamy bathroom tiles.

“Oh my God! Ethan, yes,” I pant, nodding frantically.

“Lift up,” he demands, and I comply instinctively, tilting my hips and offering all of me to his giving mouth.

Ethan gently hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, and I brace myself against the slick shower wall. I try to stay upright as his tongue goes to work, but dizzying waves of euphoria wash over me. Each steady stroke brings me higher, closer to the edge of blissful oblivion.

“I’m addicted to your pussy. You taste like heaven and hell all wrapped into one.”

His words make me crumble. Little earthquakes rock my core. I’m trembling, torn between the urge to let go and the need to make this last forever. I’ve been wound too tight for too long. It feels so good. The only thing I can do is chase this orgasm rising inside of me like a tide.

I'm pulsing with life.

Like I’ve just taken the first full breath of fresh air after living in a work cave for years.

Ethan’s breathing grows ragged, and I glance down. He’s stroking himself as he drives me to my release. I’m so turned on by it. I moan my approval, cueing him to press his mouth harder against me. His tongue swishes my clit with such force that my fingers claw into his hair.

Hottest. Experience. Ever.

“Yes, Ethan yes! I’m… I’m…” I can’t get the words out before my thighs start to tremble. White heat flashes behind my eyes, and my entire body convulses as I come.

Fast. Hard. On Ethan’s face.

My muscles, stomach, and limbs quake with the pleasure that ripples through my body.

Too soon, Ethan’s mouth releases me. He groans loudly as he comes. His heavy breathing lightly tickles my clit before he rests his head against my hip. We’re both panting, spent and sated.

So much for keeping my distance.

***

“You know this isnot a competition, right? Don’t take it so seriously,” Ethan says as he watches me furiously pipe frosting onto a Christmas cookie.

“Everything is a competition, especially Christmas.”

We’re in the kitchen, surrounded by the warm scent of freshly baked cookies, and Ethan is all smiles and laughter. His casual demeanor is unsettling, considering that less than an hour ago, he was feasting on me—drawing out an orgasm so intense that I’m still seeing stars.

“Oh wow, that is… I’m just gonna say it. It’s terrible,” Ethan quips, eyeing my frosted cookie critically. “What’s that even supposed to be?”

“It’s a stocking full of presents, obviously.”

“It looks like a penis. And not a good one—all crooked and half-hard.”

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