Page 99 of Booked for the Holidays
I give her no warning, my tongue replacing my fingers, savoring the sweet, delicious taste of Bridget Boylston. I lick every inch I can find, without shame or abandon and it’s still not enough.
“Theo.”
My name, her lips. My own personal heaven. And my own personal hell, because every depraved thought known to man flies through my head wanting and wanting and wantingmore.
Her on the counter on all fours, ass in the air.
Her arms wrapped in pretty Christmas lights, begging me to make the knots tighter.
My fingers pump her and my tongue flicks her clit. It’s a place I know she prefers, one of her favorite spots, and she clenches around me. That book of hers gave me a million different ideas, and knowing how much she’s going to love the next words out of my mouth makes me want to roar with greed.
“Are you going to be the good girl I know you are and come on my fingers, princess?”
She squeezes around me,holy fuck she’s so tight, a loud,loudmoan tumbling from her mouth as she ascends above. I work her down slowly. I cover her skin with kisses as I rise to my feet. Her ass again. The inside of her thigh. The small of her back. Between her shoulder blades. The nape of her neck. When her breathing begins to still, I withdraw out of her slowly, reaching around her waist.
“Open up,” I say. I outline her lips with the fingers coated in her release. She listens, eyes opening as her tongue darts out, licking its way down both fingers at the same time. “So beautiful. So perfect,” I whisper, brushing her hair out of her face. She whimpers, teeth nipping the pads of my finger. It’s my turn to groan and I fumble for the condom on the counter.
“I want you so bad,” she says as I rip the foil pack open. Her lips are back on mine and I unbutton my jeans at lightning speed. I shove them down my thighs, denim gathering at my feet.
“Want you too,” I grit out roughly. I pull my briefs off and roll the latex over my length. I tease along her entrance, inhaling deep. With as much restraint as I can muster, I push inside her, barely an inch, giving us a second to adjust.
“Jesus,” I groan. My head drops to her shoulder, beads of sweat covering the freckles there. “You’re so tight.”
Another nudge forward, and I’m halfway inside her. I take my time, rocking back and forth, her panting intensifying.
“There we go.” I exhale, one thrust away from being fully seated inside her. “You take me so well, angel.”
“Theo,” she gasps. Her eyes shutter closed. Her nose scrunches in a beautiful anguished scene of desperation and need. “It’s too much.”
I pause, stopping before the finish line. “You want me to stop?” I whisper, kissing her ear. “You say the words, Bridget.”
“No. God no. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“I’ve got you,” I assure her. “I promise.”
A moan first, then, “I’ve got you, too.”
With a final jolt, the final inch toward nirvana, our bodies fuse together completely. She collapses onto the counter, chest against laminate, hair covering her face.
“Heaven,” I grunt. “Just like I thought. Just like every other part of you. I never want to leave.”
“So don’t. Ruin me for anyone else.”
She’s a smart woman, and I’d be wise to listen to her.
So, I do.
I do ruin her.
I ruin her in the way I become rough. Unhinged. My left hand gripping her backside, my right cupping her neck, tattoos juxtaposed against her fair skin. My hips rolling, my lips whispering in her ear. Every word of praise, every adjective to describe her beauty, falls from my mouth. And a bit of filth, too.
“I liked your come on my fingers, Bridget, but I’m going to like it even more when it’s on my cock.”
She groans, long and low, and I feel her flutter. I feel her convulse and squeeze. I hear her whimpers and pleas. A prolonged hum tells me she finishes and I kiss the top of her head, not finished with her yet.
“Good.” A thrust. “Fucking.” Another thrust. “Girl.” A third.
My forearm loops under her, keeping her upright as I bury myself inside her, again and again. I’m close, and the rock of her hips, the press of her ass, the murmured words of “So good, Theo” bring me to the edge. The base of my spine tightens, the sensation radiating across my stomach and I tip over, body stilling as I find my release.
