Page 73 of The Holiday Hate-Off
She gasps and lifts her hips into my fingers as I thrust them inside of her and rub a spot that has her arcing her head back, giving me the perfect opening to dip my head and kiss her there. Her skin is soft and smells like heaven, and right now, I don’t have any objection to being in Hidden Italy. Right now, it’s my favorite place in town, in Maine,on the planet.
I move my fingers, my dick hard as stone, because she’s so tight and wet, and I want this. I wanther. Fuck me, I can’t remember ever wanting anyone like this. It must be this dance between us that’s gotten under my skin. It’s only gone on for a week, but it’s been the best foreplay I’ve ever engaged in, making me desperate.
Her hips rise to meet my hand, and she makes a sweet moan. I capture her bottom lip in my teeth and nip on it, then suck as I continue to move my hand, wanting to give her pleasure. Needing to feel her come.
I lean back so I can watch her face: her eyes closed, her lips parted, her head tipped back so her hair sweeps the table.
“You are exquisite,” I say, working my fingers. I lower my head so I can brush my mouth over her breasts through her dress, and even though there’s fabric barring my way, I can feel the points of her nipples. I run my tongue over one and then the other, and she bucks on the table.
“Oh my God, that feels good. So good.”
“And I haven’t even gotten onto my knees yet,” I say, giving her a wicked look, knowing she’ll appreciate the reference.
I’ll be damned if she doesn’t instantly get wetter.
“But you said…”
“I know what I said,” I say, moving my fingers frantically now, because I want that look on her face to stay there. I likebeing the man who put it there, just as much as that smile earlier.
With her next moan, I get to my knees. A plastic fork digs into me, but I don’t bother to move it—I just angle her legs over my shoulders and bury my face in heaven.
I need the breathy, surprised sound she makes more than food. More than water.
I suck and lick as I push her closer to the brink, worshipping her body the way it deserves, and she buries her hands in my hair. She’s tugging hard enough for it to hurt, and it hurts so good—too good—that I’m in danger of coming in my pants just from pleasuring her.
“I’m going to come,” she says. Then: “Enzo.”
Hearing her say my name like that, her voice tight with pleasure, is a revelation. I instantly need to hear it again.
I suck harder as she bucks her hips, her body going taut before it relaxes, and I lay a soft kiss before I pull away and look up at her.
She’s staring down at me, her eyes full of wonder.
“Not such a bad lover after all, am I?” I ask.
I meant it as a teasing remark, a continuation of our banter, but her face shuts down. “So that’s what this was about? Proving you can make a woman come? Well, congratulations.”
She pushes away from me and pulls up her stockings.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Lucy,” I say, a frantic feeling growing inside of me. She can’t leave like this. She can’t leave at all.
She gets to her feet, putting her hand on her luscious hip. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly how you meant it.”
“This wasn’t about proving anything,” I say. “I want you.” I gesture down to my dick straining against my pants. There’s a crushed french fry stuck to my knee, and I fling it off. Jesus, what’s become of me? “Obviously, I want you.”
She studies me for a moment before her posture relaxes slightly. “It was a shitty remark.”
“Yes. I’m an asshole who says dumb things, but I can do better. I want to do better.”
She looks unconvinced, but then she shocks the hell out of me by reaching forward and running her fingers over the bulge in my pants.
I swear under my breath, the sensation of her hand on me unearthly, even with the layers of fabric separating us.
“You’re so hard,” she says, some of the wonder from earlier seeping into her voice. “I’m not totally inexperienced, you know. I’ve gotten to third base before a few times.”
“I don’t need to hear about the other men who’ve had the pleasure of touching you or putting their mouths on you.”
She smiles, shaking her head, but continues to move her hand over me. “Do you have any condoms here?”
