Page 33 of Christmas Chaos
‘More, Rory. I need more.’
He pushed deeper and she wriggled back against him until he filled her completely. She sighed with pleasure. Her body, mind and soul were full of him and she could never get enough.
He withdrew slowly, then pushed forward. His pace was slow and steady, building the fire inside her.
‘Faster, Rory. Harder.’
She gripped the headboard and met his thrusts with her own, but he was still holding back.
‘Wait,’ he growled.
He held her hip steady with one hand, the other teasing her clitoris. ‘One more orgasm won’t be enough,’ he stated.
She whimpered.
‘Touch your breasts. I’ve got you.’
She released her hands from the end of the bed and tugged her nipples. He rolled her clit between his fingers and thumb.
‘Oh my god, oh my god,’ she moaned.
His cock continued to move. In, out. In, out. The pressure was rising. In, out, in, out. Pleasure bubbled and boiled inside her. Her breaths came faster as he rocked her higher.
‘Yes, yes, yes.’
He pinched her clitoris and she detonated with a scream. He thrusted faster, chasing her orgasm over the cliff as she cried out, again and again.
The sensations rolled on and on. He thrust harder, pounding into her as he strummed her clitoris.
‘Rory! I’m going to come again,’ she wailed.
He pulled her body closer, angling her head so he could kiss her, his hips snapping faster. Another climax barrelled through, stealing her breath and filling her head with stars. He wrenched his head from hers as he lost control, crying her name, his hips jerking as he came inside her.
‘Zoe, Zoe, Zoe.’
She slumped forward and he eased her down to the bed, cradling her as she lay on her side.
‘I love you so much,’ she mumbled.
‘I love you too,’ he murmured, nuzzling into her hair.
He held her close as she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Rory sandedthe piece of wood until it was as smooth as silk. He’d left Zoe to rest and returned to his workshop to finish the crib he was making for their baby. It had various iterations and was able to fit flush with the edge of the bed, as well as expand to stand on its own. He’d declined the offer of a suite of nursery furniture from his mother and Brad. He didn’t want anything he hadn’t made, and he was sure the baby didn’t need more furniture than the entire east wing of the castle.
They wanted to live in the cabin for as long as possible after the baby was born. However, he knew someday they would have to leave it behind and make the castle their permanent home. The imposing building still held echoes of his father. The thump of his boots, the bark of his voice, the crack of his whip against the stonework. The only way Rory could think to avoid being him was to make sure everything he did was the polar opposite to his brutish behaviour. But no matter how he tried to reassure himself with logic, fear still crept in.
His phone pinged with a message.
TABI: What’s up?
He sighed and shook his head. Was this woman a witch?
RORY: Don’t ever go to Salem. They’ll burn you.
TABI: Ha! Knew it, Bagpipes. Tell Auntie Tabi what’s got your kilt in a twist.
