Page 95 of The Crush of Christmas Past
“Oh.” It takes me a second to fully process what he’s saying.
What? How? Why?
I could use a few more minutes—days, months, years—to unpack his words, but Theo is done waiting.
He nudges against me. “Don’t let it go to your pretty little head, okay?”
“Looks like it’s gone to your prettybigone.” I wind my arms around his neck.
Is this what six years of delayed gratification does to a man? Turns him into a force of nature?
My thighs grip his hips, legs sliding around his waist to pull him closer. “Show me everything you’ve been holding back.Please.”
The invitation shatters Theo’s restraint.
“Isla.” He surges forward on a low grunt. “Isla—fuck.” His forehead drops to mine. “I’ve never—” The rest burns up between us as he presses in.
Just. The. Tip.
“Shit, Sunshine.” He freezes, teeth gritted, chest heaving. His hold tightens, the tendons in his body strung so tight they seem ready to snap. “You’re killing me.”
Control with a capital C pulses inside me.
He sinks in another inch, and I see stars. My hands fly to his biceps, nails biting into muscle.
“You got me ready." His fingers had worked me open, shaped me to fit him. “I should be able to—”
“Youcan,” he rasps against my throat. “You’re perfect. So warm and wet for me.” His teeth scrape over my pulse. “Just…tight.”
He shifts, pushing deeper. Testing his theory—and my limits.
My brain blanks. A hot flash of white bursts behind my eyes.
“More,” I plead, even as my body flinches around the fullness. “I need—” Well past the point of any semblance of control, I’m not ashamed to beg. “I need you all the way, Theo.”
“All the way,” he promises, but then pulls out, breath hissing through his teeth. “Come here. You’re gonna show off just how well you can take me.”
Before I can mourn the loss, he shifts us. In a series of quick, seamless motions, an arm bands tight around my waist, lifting and turning me with ease as he climbs higher on the bed.
We end with his back flush to the headboard, legs spread beneath me, hands gripping my hips. While he may have the body of a battle-ready king, right now, he’s serving as my throne.
Thighs bracketing his, I straddle him, soaking his lap as his cock throbs hot against my stomach.
“I think it’s trying to file a formal complaint,” I murmur, stroking up his length. “For edging-related crimes.”
Theo huffs a quiet laugh. It’s a low, rough sound that crumbles into a growl the second I rise onto my knees and grind along his shaft.
“Keep doing that and you’ll definitely earn yourself some handcuffs,” he warns.
“Aww, but you already gave me all my Christmas presents.” I nip at his bottom lip, daring him to act on his promise with another defiant thrust of my hips.
His palm lands on my ass in a light tap—more suggestion than sting. A call to attention, really.
My nipples tighten in response. Theo’s gaze drops, darkening as he takes in the sight. His arm winds around my back, guiding me higher so his mouth can play. He sucks hard, tongue lashing and teeth scraping at the tender peak. His other hand kneads my ass, fingers drifting lower, seeking out my slick heat from behind.
He’s giving me exactly what I want—pressure and pleasure mixed with just the lightest bite of pain.
Impatient, I rock against him with even more urgency now. The friction is everything, but I need more.
