Page 18 of One-Click Christmas
“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with hunger. “You’re shaking. Is that the cold or me?”
He licks and suckles my clit as I squeeze my thighs together against his cheeks.
“I don’t know,” I manage, “but I want your cock. I want it so badly.”
He grips my thighs firmly. “Oh, sweet girl, I’m going to fill you up like you’ve never been filled. Are you ready for that? Are you sure you can handle me? This little pussy is tight.”
“I want it so badly,” I pant.
He rises behind me, his body a wall of heat as his hands slide up my sides with desire.
“Don’t move,” he growls, lining himself up behind me as though he can’t wait another moment to take me. “I want you to think of this moment every time you look at this mountain.” His hand wraps around my waist and he slides in. My fingers curl against the glass as his thick cock stretches me slowly.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against my neck, his voice rough. “You take me so well.” His rhythm is slow and deliberate as his teeth sink into my shoulder and his grip tightens around my waist. “You feel that? You feel me claiming you? You feel me making you mine?”
I press back into him, desperate for more. “Don’t stop. Fill me up. I need it.”
The primal sounds of skin against skin fill the cabin with a sticky echo that I won’t forget. It’s perfect and wild. A heavenly dichotomy to the silent snow falling peacefully outside.
I bend forward further, and he reaches forward, cupping my tit in his hand as he continues to thrust. It’s this angle that does me in. The one where his length hits places I didn’t know were there. The angle where his roughness meets my soft skin in a way that’s so raw and masculine that my body has no choice but to surrender to the ecstasy.
I cry out, my body contorting and unraveling against his touch. I’m pretty sure I’m going blind, but he doesn’t stop. He grips me tighter and continues to thrust deeper. “You like that? You like how it feels to belong to me?”
My heart slams against my chest as I try to nod, though I’m pressed so firmly against the window it’s hard to get the motion in.
He must like this position because a moment later he thrusts into me one final time with a groan so loud I swear I see an owl fly off a nearby tree. “Fuck!” The noises he makes are loud and archaic, masculine and savage, as he fills me up with hot come.
For a moment, the world is quiet, the only sound our breath against the glass.
Hunter leans his heavy weight against my frame, landing a hot kiss against my neck. “You felt so good. You okay?”
“Yes.” I grin, spinning back toward him, leaning my cold, hard nipples against his warm chest. “That was incredible.”
He hums under his breath and tightens his grip around my frame before tossing us both onto the bed behind us. “You know you’re not going anywhere now, right? All that possessive ‘you’re mine’talk was real. You belong to me now. I won’t have it any other way.”
I grin and snuggle into his touch, my heart warm and happier than it’s been in years. “I think I’m going to be okay with that arrangement, though I’m going to need to head to the bookstore sooner or later… if we’re open much longer.” I sigh. “I guess Marley isn’t letting on how bad the store is struggling.”
“Shit,” he kisses my forehead gently. “I can help out, make a donation or something.”
“That’s really nice of you, and I’m sure she’d take a donation at this point, but someone needs to do something that’ll keep the place open for good. We need a new plan.”
“How long does the bookstore have?” Hunter says, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.
“Until the end of January. After that, she’s not sure what’s going to happen.”
Hunter wraps me tighter and pulls the blankets up and over the both of us. “I’m sure with everyone working together, we’ll figure it out.”
I know we will. I mean, Holly is working on something right now. There’s no way a store as iconic as Chestnut Lane Bookstore would ever close, right?
“What about your publishing house?” I ask, pivoting with faith that everything will work itself out. “Won’t they be hard to coordinate with if you’re up here?”
He shakes his head and brushes his hand down over the side of my arm, drawing oversized circles around my elbow. “I don’t care. I’m not leaving. This is my life now. You, me, this cabin, making babies, and writing books until the end of time. You okay with that?” A smile cracks his face as he holds me tighter. “I’m asking as a formality, not because you have a choice.”
I grin and roll further into his chest, breathing in the scent of cedar on his skin. “Yeah, I think I can make that work.”
For years I sat tucked away reading books about love, imagining what it would be like to live the life of the characters on the page.
Now, I know. Trouble is, it’s nothing like I expected.
