Page 19 of Mistletoe Missus
In the blink of an eye, the tail end of the vehicle swerved, and the tires went off the road. We came drastically close to the railing meant to save the car from a deadly dive over the hillside, and I caught sight of the swirling snow at the base of the mountain.
My eyes widened with fright. “Oh, God!”
The tires gripped the salted pavement, forcing the vehicle back onto the road as Mitt tore my eyes away from the doom I had created in my mind and trained my attention back to him. The pads of his thumbs caressed my cheeks until they landed on my lips. My breathing no longer hitched from the phobia, but from him.
“Look at me,” Mitt breathed as his eyes searched mine with a desperation to cure me.
“I don’t think I can do this. I don’t want to do this alone,” I mumbled, a loneliness taking over me.
Mitt’s eyes landed on my trembling lips. “You’re not alone. Do you hear me? I’m here with you. Mitt. Your husband. I’m not going anywhere, angel.”
His nickname for me brought me warmth, a comfort I needed as the vehicle climbed higher, and there was no turning back. Mitt was here. He was by my side, and I wasn’t facing my fear solo.
The never-ending nerves knotted in my belly eased, my head stopped spinning, and my vision cleared. Greens and browns shone brightly back at me as Mitt leaned forward until he was only inches away. Only our breath separated us as our noses touched and my mind grew foggy. A temperature was rising that wasn’t there mixing with the undeniable fear and created an unfamiliar heat I invited inside, letting it consume me.
“I’m not alone,” I whispered repeatedly.
“Yes. That’s right. Focus on me, Wife,” Mitt ordered as his lips brushed mine. “We’ll face your phobia together because it doesn’t own you. I do. You belong to me and not crippled by fear.”
“I belong to you,” I murmured as he softly kissed my lips, and I fell into him.
“Yes,” Mitt breathed. His tongue parted my mouth. “You’re mine.”
My husband’s mouth captured mine in a greedy kiss. The nerves, panic, and passion whirled into one—a fiery concoction, making me forget who I was and where I was. Everything I knew was Mitt. All I breathed was him. All I wanted was him.
The car had swerved again, throwing our bodies up against the seat where Mitt hovered over me and shielded me from the outside world. He protected me from everything I feared and groaned above me, reminding me of life rather than terror on top of a mountainside. There was pure, undeniable passion as our tongues explored each other further than we ever had before. Our teeth nibbled paths they had never grazed, and our hands ventured to places they hadn’t before. His fingers trailed up my dress until his hand squeezed my thigh. Mine entered theinside of his shirt, loosening several buttons, and my hands met his chiseled pecks. My nails dug into his skin as his hand trailed higher up my thigh, and my mouth broke from his, gasping for air.
“Oh, Mitt, I—” an animalistic moan tore from me when he claimed my mouth again and his tongue swirled inside.
Mitt didn’t stop his seductive tactics as his hand came right up below my panty line and his thumb trailed on the edge of glory. I wanted him to take me, rip my panties right off, and fuck me. To get my husband to reveal his worst. I couldn’t wait any longer. I desired him more than I had ever wanted a man in my entire life.
Until there was a knock on the glass.
Startled, I jumped at the unexpected sound. Mitt’s mouth left mine as his lips ventured down the side of my collarbone and trailed over my neckline. His mouth toyed with my cleavage and sucked on the skin.
My train of thought teetered on the edge just like the vehicle had been only seconds ago—or minutes, but I couldn’t be sure. I had lost track of time with Mitt’s skilled mouth on my body. His hand groping places they hadn’t yet, and I enjoyed every second. My fast-racing heartbeat could attest to it.
“Ignore it,” Mitt groaned as he nipped my lower lip before he took my mouth again.
The kiss was brief with the sound of a second knock interrupting us, and Mitt exhaled an irritated huff. The puff of air hit my cheek, and the realization sunk in that we had stopped. We no longer climbed up the mountainside in the limousine.
Mitt was with me, and we had conquered this fear together. My phobia hadn’t won. We had. Our locked lips had got us right to the peak.
A third knock sounded.
“Persistent fuck,” Mitt grumbled as he backed away and fastened the buttons I had loosened.
My cheeks burned from the memory, but I questioned, “I think we’re here?”
“Yes...” Mitt hissed theS,rolled down the window and glared at the chauffeur. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
He didn’t wait for the driver’s response and slid the window back up. Mitt’s eyes lingered hungrily on my exposed thigh, and my hands worked to cover the skin up with my dress. His eyes left me as he sat in the seat beside me, his hand resting on the door handle.
I slouched down in the seat and couldn’t see outside. Whatever he had planned was on the other side of that door, and I had to pull myself together. I wanted nothing more than to tell Mitt to call off the surprise and let us carry on where we had left off, but Mitt only peered out the window.
The moment we had shared was long gone. It was foolish of me to think we’d get lost in each other’s arms this soon into our marriage. We should be on our honeymoon, but this wasn’t any typical wedding day. We were only hours past tying the knot in our rushed nuptials, and we still had a lifetime together to explore. A heated make-out session in the back of a limousine was a step in the right direction. Intimacy would come with time and so would our love story.
I sat up in my seat and cleared my throat. “I’m feeling better.”
