Page 110 of Booked for the Holidays
“Once.” She pauses, hesitating to share the next part. “I liked it.”
I hum. “Give me two minutes. Get on your knees, princess.”
Her eyes get glassy in the way they do every time I use the endearment. I stride to my room and reach under my bed. Mac and I decorated the fake tree a week ago, but we didn’t use all the lights. I grab the handle of an old shopping bag, bringing it with me to the living room.
When I turn the corner, I find Bridget on her knees, just like I asked.
“Look at you waiting for me.” I walk to the rug and cup her chin with my fingers. Tilting her head back, I hold up the strand. “Interested?” I ask.
Her nod is staccato and vigorous, quick jerks conveying an enthusiastic answer. “Very,” she says.
Even though it’s a fantasy of mine, I’ve never tied someone up. The swagger and bravado I had as I marched down the hall evaporates as I stare down at Bridget.
It’s because it’sher, I realize. I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to do anything that might mess up the foundation of what we’ve started to build.
“Theo,” she whispers. Her eyes stare into mine, aroused. Excited. Infatuated. “I trust you. I know you’ll keep me safe. I jump, you jump, remember?”
I huff out a laugh and run my hand through my hair. My fingers tighten around the cord. Reassured and turned on as hell, I rub the bulbs of the lights against her cheek. “Stand up and take your dress off.”
Bridget rises from the ground, like a goddess from water. Her hands toy with the fabric of her dress straps, inching it down painstakingly slow. I don't think I’ve ever been this hard in my life, watching and waiting for her to get rid of the damn thing.
The left shoulder first, then the right. With both straps free, she holds the material against her chest. Before I can tell her to drop it, she spins around. Looking at me over her shoulder, lip caught in her teeth, she lets the dress fall to the floor. It pools at her waist and she nudges the clothing to the side with her toes. My eyes travel down her back, along the route I’ve touched and kissed numerous times before. Braless, the ridges of her shoulder blades stand out. I follow her spine, dipping further until I see a red pair of underwear, barely covering her ass, a little bow on top of the lace.
“Come here,” I say. I don’t bother to mask how badly I want her, the need prevalent in my tone.
Another spin and she’s facing me again, hair spilling down her shoulders and covering her breasts. She walks to me, arms outstretched and waiting. I plug the lights into the outlet on the wall and wrap the strand around her, pausing as I wait for a nod to continue. Bridget kisses my cheek and I forge on. Over, then under. Back and forth in a figure-eight pattern until the colors dance up her arms, painted in reds and blues and greens. I’m careful to not let the lights touch her, keeping the warming bulbs away from the skin.
“There we go,” I breathe out when I’m finished.
“How do I look?”
“Beautiful. Perfect. Like the best Christmas gift. But you’d look even better on your knees.”
Immediately, she sinks back to the floor, mouth already parting, tongue running over her top lip.
“I had a whole night planned for us,” I say, loosening the drawstring of my pants. “I wasn’t going to do anything but kiss you. I wasn’t going to tie your hands up so you’d be at my mercy. I wasn’t going to run my cock over your lips and paint your stomach with my cum before I sank into you.”
“Plans can change,” Bridget pants.
I step out of my joggers and kick them to the side. I didn’t bother with underwear; I knew the second I left her on the couch I wouldn’t need them. “Yeah, they can. Now open your mouth, princess, and suck my cock like the good girl you are.”
She moans. Scooting forward on the rug, her lips wrap around my head. The lights don’t afford her any room to use her hands. Pausing briefly, she adjusts her angle. Her thighs widen. She sinks closer to the floor. Her neck tilts to accommodate more of my length.
She’s got me halfway down now, and I wrap my fingers into her hair. “You can go deeper, can’t you, Bridget?”
Her cheeks hollow out as she nods. I slide in another half inch, nearing the back of her throat. Tears catch in the corner of her eyes and a drop of saliva hangs from her bottom lip. I use my thumb to wipe it away.
Her teeth graze up my length and she looks up at me through a fan of eyelashes, the picture of innocence until she slides all the way to the base of my shaft. I let out a groan, long and loud. I’ll be shocked if the neighbors can’t hear me. I watch in awe as her head bobs up and down, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Jesus, Bridget.” I stop her movements, pulling out of her mouth. “Couch. Now.”
She jumps to her feet obediently and practically launches herself at the furniture. I toss the pillows aside and wait for her to get on her back. My knees bracket her hips, and I move her arms above her head, Christmas lights shining on her beautiful face.
“Theo,” she says. She licks her lips and squeezes her legs around my waist.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“No condom. I’m clean and on birth control. I want to feel you.Justyou.”
