Page 25 of The Christmas List

Wyatt’s hips fit between my thighs as he slips his hand beneath my back and deftly unties my bikini top, pulling it free and tossing it to the side.

“Fuck,” he drawls, his blown pupils raking along my chest at the same time he cups my breast in his palm, rolling the taut, pebbled peak of my nipple between his fingers. “You were made for my hands, honey.”

The words wash over me, praise that I never knew I sought until now.

Lowering his mouth, he closes his lips around my nipple, sucking the bud deep and flicking the sensitive peak with this tongue until I’m nearly panting beneath him.

Until I’m delirious with need, my head dizzy from the delicious assault of his mouth along my skin.

Wyatt blazes a path down my stomach, leaving hot, wet kisses along my skin until he makes it to my navel, dipping histongue in and then dragging it to the waistband of my bikini bottoms.

My heart is thrashing in my chest in sync with the wild, erratic pounding of my pulse.

Part of me can’t even believe this ishappeningright now. But an even bigger part of me is just thankful that it is. That I get this experience with Wyatt no matter what happens after tonight.

I refuse to let my head really go there right now, instead forcing my attention to the man who’s hovering over me, heat burning in his honey-steeped eyes.

With his gaze pinned on mine, he presses soft, achingly tender kisses along the inside of my thighs, moving closer and closer to my throbbing core.

God, I’ve never wanted something as badly as I want Wyatt’s hands on me, his mouth, his fingers,allof him.

When his lips ghost along the damp fabric of my bikini, my back arches from the rug, and he lets out a nearly pained grunt.

“Already wet for me, honey?” It doesn’t seem like he’s asking a question, more making an observation, but I find myself nodding anyway, watching as his pillowy lips tug upward in a devastating smile. “What a good girl.”

My clit throbs at the praise. I’m not even sure when it became something I liked this much.

But then again… this isWyatt.

There’s a soft brush of his lips as he hooks a finger in the string of my swimsuit bottoms and, with one tug, has the strings falling free, leaving me completely bare for him. The heat from the fire warms my skin, but it’s nothing like the inferno that’s building inside of me.

His admiring gaze moves over my core as his lips part, and his tongue wets his lips.

Is there anything more attractive than a man staring at the most intimate part of you while looking as if he could devour you whole?

Wyatt’s fingers sweep along my already wet center as he spreads me open and rasps, “Pretty and perfect as I remember.”

Lowering his mouth to me, he slowly flicks the tip of his tongue over my clit, my back bowing completely off the rug.

And then he flattens his tongue and drags it through my wet center in the most torturously slow way I’ve ever experienced.It’s maddening, the unhurried way he’s taking his time, savoring it, lapping at me until my hands are flying to his hair and tugging roughly at the strands in desperation to hold on to something, to ground myself. To bring my head back from the clouds I feel as if I’m currently floating on.

Holy… crap.

“Oh… God,” I pant, my voice wavering as the words break. “Wyatt…” A handful of ragged syllables strung together.

His low chuckle vibrates against my wet core, sending another heady burst of pleasure soaring through my already heavy limbs. “Watch me eat your pretty little pussy, honey. Watch me eat you like I’ve dreamed about doing for so fucking long.”

I manage to keep my eyes open if only to drink in the sight of this beautiful man fitted between my legs, my thighs thrown over his broad, tan shoulders, and his tongue buried inside of me.

My hips squirm when he circles my entrance with his fingers and slowly, inch by inch, sinks two of them inside me at the same time he swirls his tongue on my clit. I raise them to meet the pace of his fingers, the flick of his tongue, pulling him against me by his hair in a way that I worry I might hurt him, but his growl of approval is all that I need to know that he is just as lost to this as I am.

I watch Wyatt slip his other hand into the front of his swim shorts and palm his cock, slowly pumping his fist.

It’s so erotic, watching him be so turned on from just tastingmeand givingmepleasure.

The tug in my lower belly pulls taut as my orgasm builds, and Wyatt never stops the sweep of his tongue. He sucks my clit and licks me through every second of the intense pleasure throbbing through me.

“Don’t stop,” I plead deliriously.

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