Page 15 of Stocking Stuffers
“Holy shit.” His knees shook as he stroked the toy down his length. The internal sleeve was silky and warm around him.
He fell against her hungrily, pushing her harder against the bathroom wall, and threaded his free hand back into her hair. Her foot was still propped up on the tub next to them, and he marveled over the way she’d opened up.
She moaned again, this time in her throat, as she took his tongue into her mouth and sucked. A shudder worked its way up his spine and his balls tightened. He ripped his mouth away from her, totally dazed, and way too close. He slowed his hand and tried to breathe.
“So good, Sasha.”
She flicked her gaze up, and it was full of humor and happiness and fun, but her mouth was slack with pleasure. Her hips twitched as she rode the toy harder, her movements precise and measured. She obviously knew exactly what she needed to make herself come. It was inspiring and sexy as hell.
“I love seeing my thong on your wrist,” she said. “Hot watching you touch yourself.”
He glanced down at her black panties wrapped around his arm. It pushed him closer to the edge, and he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting.
“Fuck, I can’t believe how incredible this feels,” he choked out.
“I’m really wet. And close.” Her thigh trembled, and she tilted her head back against the wall, her neck bared to him. He mouthed at the hollow of her throat, then dragged his fingers from her hair, down the center of her chest, until they landed at the juncture of her body.
She wasn’t simply wet around the toy. She was drenched.
“Oh fuck.” He traced his finger around the pulsing silicone bulb nestled against her clit. “Are you about to come?” he asked, his voice shot. She gasped and nodded, so he took a half-step back, his fingers still touching her slickness. “I want to be able to see you. Want to hear you.”
He worked the Fleshstroker over himself harder. Faster. Their gazes snagged on each other, a moment of perfect eye contact, and a tiny piece of his heart snapped. This was better than he ever could have imagined, and he hated that it wasn’t for keeps.
Suddenly, her breath hitched, her eyes closed, and her back bowed. She came apart on the Double Trouble, a tiny cry escaping, and it was so fucking gorgeous. So uninhibited.
The room spun. Warmth spread through his body, tension winding its way down his spine. He leaned in and kissed the sweet, sweaty join of her neck and shoulder and grabbed a handful of her ass. He was nearly there, right on the cusp of losing it.
“Sasha?” a voice called from the direction of the Blue Spruce Room. It was followed swiftly by a muffled knock.
“Shit. Fuck,” Perry said under his breath.His sister.“Fuck.”
Sasha removed her foot from the lip of the tub, crowding in his embrace, and slapped a hand over his mouth.
“This okay?” she asked him softly, breath hot in his ear. He nodded frantically. “Good. Go faster.”
It was too much, too amazing. And the thrill of almost being caught, of having to be quiet—his eyes rolled back, his body shaking.
Right there.He was right there.
“Come for me, Perry,” she whispered. Her teeth tugged his earlobe.
His body locked up, and she smothered his groan with her hand as he filled the Fleshstroker with his spunk.
It had only been a few seconds from the moment Valerie knocked, but he felt like time slowed as he quaked through his orgasm. His knees almost buckled, and his vision went as white as the blizzard outside.
“Hey, Valerie!” Sasha yelled to his sister in the other room, without lifting her hand from Perry’s mouth. “Hold on. I’m in the bathroom.” She casually held the Double Trouble in her other fist. It was wet and shiny from her arousal.
“Okay. I have the coziest, best pajamas in the world for you,” Valerie said, her voice way too close for comfort. She was probably in the doorway to the Blue Spruce Room. They’d stupidly left it open.
Sasha dropped her hand from Perry’s mouth. He caught her wrist and kissed her palm lightly. Something soft and maybe vulnerable flashed through her eyes before she backed away from him. He reached for her, but she neatly sidestepped him, wiggling until her dress fell back into place. After quickly fixing her hair where his hands had mussed it, she glanced at him in the mirror. She seemed totally unfazed. Calm and cool and not at all like she’d had an orgasm that had turned the room upside down.
Not like him. He couldn’t see straight.
“Shit,” he said again.
She started cleaning her vibrator off in the sink. He hadn’t moved.
“Did I break you?” she whispered teasingly.
