Page 64 of The Bright Side of Christmas
I bite my lip, then do my best to stroke him over his pants.
“Come on. I want to show you how appreciative I am,” I whisper. Then I’m moving to my knees, kneeling between him as he sits before me on the sleigh. My pulse is pounding, and though some of it is because I’m nervous taking the reins like this, the rest is because I am suddenly so turned on, I can’t handle it.
“Wren,” Adam says, but the argument isn’t even really there. His hips move up into my hand, and I hum to myself. I put my hand over his growing bulge, and a whisper of a groan leaves his lips.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I confess, a blush burning on my cheeks.
“Give someone a hand job in Santa’s sleigh?”
“Okay, don’t make it sound so crude!” I laugh.
“I don’t think there’s any other way to say it, baby. You’re on your knees in this sleigh.”
“I just mean…hook up in here.” My voice goes low, trying to be sexy even though I feel like I’m totally failing at that. My hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, and I slowly tug it down. He doesn’t stop me, which feels like a good sign. Maybe I’m not totally fucking this up. “You know, you always hear about a roll in the hay or teenagers hooking up in the hayloft. I was far too much of a goody two-shoes to do anything like that, but I could daydream.”
I slide my hands into his jeans, cupping him over his boxer briefs. He’s already hard, and I grin.
“And this is what I always thought about.
“Wren,” he says in warning.
“Please,” I whisper.
“What if someone?—”
“I locked the door and put on the deadbolt that locks it from the inside.” It’s a feature I later found out was intended to allow my mom to come in here and wrap presents without anyone sneaking in. Right now, I’m grateful for it. “And everyone is busy up at the main house.” My hand squeezes him a bit, and he groans, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. “Please. It’s what I really want,” I add with wide eyes, biting my lips.
It’s manipulative, I know. It’s using his own words against him, but if he’s going to challenge me and push me into the uncomfortable territory of putting myself first, getting what I want, and asking for what I want, then I’m going to get what I want.
And right now, Ireallywant to suck Adam off.
Thankfully, I don’t have to ask again—it works like I thought it would. His hand moves to my chin, tipping my face up to look at him better, his thumb brushing along my cheekbone as he stares down at me.
“How on earth am I ever supposed to say no to you?” he asks in a whisper, and it feels almost like a genuine question, one that settles in my stomach sweet and warm before I smile at him.
“You’re the one who told me I need to ask for what I want and not worry about what everyone else thinks.”
“I did, didn’t I? Can’t say I thought making you a little more selfish would benefit me so well.” That thumb moves along my cheek once more, then slides down to tug at my bottom lip before he speaks again, this time the words low and rumbling.
“What do you want, Birdie?”
There’s no hesitation with my answer.
“I want to suck your cock, Adam.”
“Fuck,” he groans, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, his hand shifts his pants aside, reaching in and pulling out his thick, hard cock. I sit back on my heels, watching the show before me.
“Stroke it for me,” I whisper, my eyes locked. He lets out an unsteady breath that shoots right to my clit, but does what I ask, his hand wrapping his thick cock and tugging from base to tip.
“Nothing is hotter than you telling me what you want.”
I sit back on my heels and watch him fuck his hand. A small whimper leaves my lips as I watch his hand tighten toward the top, a drop of precum beading at the head. My breathing goes ragged, and I lick my lips.
“My turn. Let me suck you.”
“Whatever you want, sweetness,” he says, voice strained, before I replace my hands with his, using both to pump him. He groans loudly, and it gives me a surge of confidence, making me feel sexy and powerful as I dip my head and run the flat of my tongue over the head of his cock, lapping up the salty liquid there. His breath hitches as I wrap my lips around the head and suck, and a moan falls from his lips as I slide down and then back.
“What a pretty little thing, my Wren. On her knees for me, sucking my cock so good,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His hands move, brushing and gathering my hair into one hand, getting it out of my face. “So fucking good, baby.”
