Page 10 of HoHoHo for You

“What are you—”

Still rubbing himself on me, threatening to take me at any second, he pushed my head down. “Read it. Out loud.”

I sucked in. “Sam, I can’t read while we’re—"

“Read, Bridget.Read until you can’t say words,” he said, his voice tight and harsh.

So I did my best, bracing on my elbows, trying to keep my eyes open as he slid and pressed and teased me.

I started reading, thrilling when his touch grew firmer and more instant… and then, to my delight, he mimicked what I read.

“With quiet, murmured words and gentle but firm hands, he pressed a hand between my shoulder blades to bend me forward until I was on all fours on the bed and he knelt behind me.”

I grabbed the Kindle as Sam lifted my hips and pushed me forward, moving with me until I was on all fours on the bed. I shuddered as he slid against me.

“I gripped the quilt in both hands and waited for him to take me, looking back over my shoulder to watch him…”

I turned to look at him, but he was staring down at me, his jaw slack, and the sight of him there—he’d discarded the pants, but still had that jacket hanging open over his beautiful body. I groaned and went back to the story.

“He reached for my hips and spread my knees wider then, positioning himself, pulled me back towards him—”

Sam did the same and we both groaned, but he didn’t enter me. I was stammering as I hurried through the scene to get to the part where he would.

“When he touched my slick skin, sliding himself up and down, I closed my eyes, groaning quietly when he hesitated right there.

““Do it,” I breathed, nudging back against him. “Please.”

““Patience, beautiful.”

“I loved that dark purr that entered his voice. But before I could tell him so, he grabbed my waist and pulled me slowly back, entering me in two or three slow strokes, until his hips were hard against my ass.

“As he filled me, I dropped my head, moaning—oh! Shit, Sam!” I gasped.

I dropped my head to enjoy the delicious sensations as Sam took me in one, demanding slide, then pulled all the way out of me. I whimpered, but as he thrust back in, he curled over my back and took that grip on my hair again.

“Keep. Reading.”

Half-thrilled and half-devastated, I searched for my place on that screen as my husband kept his slow, frustrating pace, his movements following the book like it was an instruction manual—but slowly, because it took me time to read the words.

“…He moved slowly within me, easing in and out as he lifted me up, spreading my knees, urging me to kneel as well, until finally, I straddled his thighs, my back against his chest, my head resting back against his shoulder, and he was within me.”

“Fuck, Bridget,” he growled as he pulled me up so I was sitting over his thighs and riding him, my back to his chest.

“Yes please!”

He groaned and stroked a hand up my belly to my breast as he opened his mouth on my neck. “God, Ilove itwhen your nipples get hard for me,” he breathed harshly against my neck.

“Ha. I l-love it when you get hard for me, so we’re even.”

But then he lifted my hand that still held the kindle and put it in front of me. I groaned again. “Sam, I just want to be with you—”

“This is your reward for all that naughtiness, Bridget,” he growled. “Read the damn book.”

He dropped his hands to my hips and pulled me hard down onto him. I tried to read the book, but fumbled.

“Because of his thick, iron thighs—”I snorted. Sam scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Don’t worry, babe,” I assured him breathlessly. “Your iron is all I need.”

“I should hope so.” Then he thrust into me again. I was having trouble keeping the Kindle still enough to read it, butlovingplaying this out with him. So I let my voice go breathy and high when the feelings he wrung from me made it that way. And I kept reading.

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