Page 128 of The Crush of Christmas Past
My vision blurs. Stars explode behind my eyes. Pressure blends into pleasure.
Then it all crashes to a halt.
Theo stops.
He. Fucking. Stops.
Every trace of heat is stolen from me when his mouth moves away and his fingers vanish.
A strangled curse tears from my throat as my forehead knocks against the glass. My breaths fog the mirror, clouding my reflection. Even with interference, the feral look in my eyes is unmistakable.
“Theo—please.” My hips grind back, chasing friction, seeking mercy.
I expect him to dodge me, toy with me.
But I make contact.
His groan vibrates against me. “So warm. So wet. Your whole body is blushing for me.”
And for one wild, blissful second, he slips.
Licks. Touches. Bites.
“Fuck—” I gasp. Maybe even drool a little. “Yes. Like—”
The bastard returns to his senses much too soon.
“Little brat,” he rasps, pulling back. “Trying to trick me into letting you come?”
This time, when he retreats, I don’t lose my mind.
I glance over my shoulder, meet his gaze, and smirk. “If you don’t get me off soon, I’m taking back my love declaration.”
His nostrils flare in a lethal, measured exhale as he rises to his full height behind me.
A shiver of exhilaration rushes through me.
I know exactly what I’m doing. What this move will earn me.
“Oh, Sunshine. I’d planned on making this next part sweet…” His palm lands hard and hot against my ass. “But you just damned yourself to the filthiest fuck of your life.”
Whoops.
Thirty-Seven
Theo
Ifuckinglovethisgirl.
Isla.My Sunshine.
She’s bent over the vanity, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes, sweat-dampened bangs clinging to her forehead. Her skin is flushed pink, a constellation of freckles scattered across her back like stardust.
She looks absolutely wrecked.
My heart pounds, driving her name through my bloodstream, demanding I give her everything.
Soothe her mind. Indulge her body. Please her soul.
