Page 5 of The Christmas Gift

The tips of her breasts beaded, wanting more than her bra to rub against. Lordy, he was a good kisser. The dancing of his tongue against hers made her pant for a desperate gulp of air. Their surroundings, the flirty waitress, the soft jazz music playing in the background all melted away to Cor’s tune. And it was a darn good beat.

“Do you want to wait for your date?”

Hell no.She shook her head. He’d stolen her words and her breath.

“Good.” Taking her hand, he pulled them out of the booth.

“Wait. I don’t do this.”

“Booty calls?”

“No…” She expelled a breath, almost divulging that her sex life was indicative of starting a new project. Which meant months of dry spells. “Sleeping with people I don’t vet.”

“You vetted me. I passed.” Cor didn’t come closer, but he didn’t let go of her hand either. “Tell me you don’t want to go upstairs and we’ll return to the booth.”

She held his gaze.

“We’ll talk all fucking night if you prefer.”

Talking was nice but it wasn’t what she needed.

“I want to go upstairs.” She barely had time to grab her handbag before he was hurrying them towards the elevators. “Wait,” she said when he pressed the seventh-floor button. “I already booked a room on the third floor.”

“Why am I not surprised? ”

A mutual room meant there was no awkwardness after sex. There were no personal effects on display, no one’s privacy being invaded. A designated room meant either could leave without guilt.

The moment they stood in front of the door, Cor began kissing the back of her neck as she fumbled for the key card. He was making it difficult to think straight.

“I can’t wait to get you out of that dress.” He slammed the door shut, flicking the metal latch into place.

Ivy retreated into the room, dropping her purse onto the floor somewhere between the door and the bed. There was no gentleness when he flung his jacket across the room or when he yanked the tail of his crisp shirt out of the waist of his pants. He was gorgeous in his pursuit.

If she thought he’d kissed her in the lobby, Ivy was wrong. That was merely an appetizer to the main course. She shivered as his tongue swept across the roof of her mouth, and she arched into his embrace.

“I need you naked. Now,” he growled.

Crossing her arms, Ivy gripped the hem of her dress and started taking it off. She was a size twelve, with no intention of hiding her figure. What she lacked in the waist, she made up for in hips and ass.

“Everything,” he said when the dress hit the floor.

She slipped her panties down first, then unhooked her bra. He greedily took in her nakedness as he stripped, and she couldn’t help moaning as his dick jerked to attention. “Is all this for me?”

“Only naughty girls get this dick.” He cupped her breasts, massaging their weight. “Are you a good girl?” He pinched her nipple.

Ivy hissed. She had no problem being straight-laced—as he called her—tomorrow, but tonight she was going to have fun. In answer, she dropped to her knees, wrapping her fist around his throbbing shaft. Ivy gave him a playful tug, bringing him closer to her lips. Slowly, her tongue teased the sensitive slip and she was rewarded when his dick twitched in her hold.

“Look at me when you suck my dick.”

Holding his gaze as her mouth enveloped his crown. He was thicker than she expected, his girth stretching her lips in a way that made her wet in anticipation.

“So good. Take me deeper. I want to hit the back of that throat.”

Something about his little direction, the pure lust in his voice, made her want to please him. Make her want his approval. As before, a jolt of adrenaline quickened her pulse at knowing she had put the huskiness in his voice and the glaze in his eyes.

When her lips touched his base, she swallowed.

“Fuck yes!” he hissed.

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