Page 118 of Christmas off Script
‘Did I…?’
He smiled. ‘Yes, you did.’
‘I’ve never done that before.’
Good. Raising to his knees, he gazed at her lying beneath him. Flushed, tousled, and so beautiful it hurt.
A satiated smile spread across her lips. ‘I can’t remember the last question you asked.’
‘Shall I ask you some easier questions?’
‘Go on then. See how much cognitive function is left.’
‘Who’s the fexiest Foxbrooke?’
‘You are.’ She reached for the button of his trousers and flicked it open.
His breath hitched. ‘Most fandsome?’
‘You, again.’ She tugged the zipper down and reached inside his boxers to free his cock.
His muscles tensed at her touch. ‘Most well-endowed?’
She stopped and raised an eyebrow. ‘How on earth would I know that?’
‘Sorry, my brain’s not working properly anymore.’
Her hand slowly pumped his length, sending sharp darts of pleasure across his skin.
‘But just so you know,’ he continued, lights flashing in his vision. ‘The answer’s me.’
‘Hmm…’ Her eyes held his as her mouth sank onto his cock.
‘Ahh—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh god, oh—’
She released him with a pop. ‘When does the Russian Orthodox Church celebrate Christmas?’
‘I don’t care.’
Ella giggled. ‘But it’s the quiz tomorrow night.’
‘I still don’t care.’
She swirled the tip of her tongue around the head of his cock. ‘You need to try a little harder, Leo.’
He let out a strangled cry as she licked his slit. ‘Any harder and I’ll explode.’
Her eyes still locked on his, she sucked him deep, humming her approval.
Lust shot through him like an electric shock, fizzing through his blood and drawing up his balls. Jerking away from her, his hands tightening into fists on his thighs, he sucked air in and out through his clenched jaw.
Her fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt, fumbling to undo them.
She wasn’t being quick enough.
Grabbing either side of his shirt, he wrenched them apart, buttons pinging to the floor.
Ella giggled, but when he shucked the remains of his shirt to the bed and pinned her with a stare, her lips parted with a gasp and her pupils dilated into deep pools of longing.
