Page 90 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“But first…” Shifting my weight, I pin her wrists above her head. My other hand slips deeper, and I add a third finger, gritting my teeth at the tight fit. “You’re not done. Give me one more.”
Her muscles clench, and with the added pressure, she soaks my hand in seconds.
“You’re doing so well,” I murmur against her lips. “Hear how wet you are? Feel yourself dripping for me?”
“Theo…” She squeezes her eyes shut.
“Look at me.” I pinch her clit lightly, forcing her to stay focused. “Your body is saying you’re mine, isn’t it?”
Her moan spikes through me, rattling my senses, shoving at my self-control.
“Tell me you’re mine, Isla,” I grit out, trailing kisses down the soft line of her throat.
“I—”
I seal my mouth over her pulse, drawing out a broken whimper.
“Theo.”
“Say it, Sunshine.” My teeth sink straight into her heartbeat.
“Yours,” she cries.
Then she’s chanting it—over and over—as she drenches my fingers, and I carry her through every last wave.
Even as she descends from the high, she stays open.
Eyes wide. Walls down.
For me.
Andfuckif that’s not everything.
I press my palm to her chest.
My name. Her heartbeat.
“Mine.”
I kiss her again, breathing the pledge into her skin.
Always was. Always will be.
Twenty-Eight
Isla
Iwanttocomeburiedinside you.
Theo’s promise drilled straight into some primal part of my brain, triggering a chemical reaction that altered every molecule in my body.
Two glorious, comforter-soaking, nerve-frying orgasms later, I still can’t stop obsessing over those filthy words. He might as well have injected them straight into my bloodstream.
Even wrung out and boneless, I’m riding a high. Which is why I’m already plotting the quickest way to drag him out of his clothes and inside me.
Theo is braced above me, both elbows planted on eitherside of my head, caging me in.
His intense stare pours into me, flooding me with a scorching heat that melts my insides. Every trace of green is swallowed by the darkness of his pupils. He looks at me like I’m both salvation and sin. As if he can’t decide whether to pray to me or punish me.
