Page 81 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” I mutter, my breath quickening as she arches her back, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breaths. Her nipples are hard, her skin flushed, and I can’t resist the urge to lean up and capture one in my mouth, sucking gently as she gasps, her hands tangling in my hair.
“Don’t stop,” I hiss against her skin, “keep moving for me.”
Miranda’s moans grow louder, her movements more urgent. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her body trembling as she rides me harder, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. I can feel her tightening around me, her muscles clenching in a way that makes my head spin.
“I’m gonna come, Miranda,” I warn, my voice breaking as I thrust up to meet her, our bodies colliding in a rhythm that’s both frantic and deliberate. “You make me lose control.”
Her eyes widen, her lips parting in a silent cry as she nods, her body responding to my words like they’re a command.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” I moan, my voice hoarse as I grip her hips tighter, my thrusts becoming more desperate. She’s everything I didn’t know I needed, her presence filling a void I hadn’t even realized existed.
The little sounds of pleasure she makes are music to my ears, and I never want her to stop making them.
As I feel my climax building, I pull her down, our lips crashing together in a kiss that’s both hungry and tender. Her taste is sweet, her tongue tangling with mine as I roll us over, pinning her beneath me. She wraps her legs around my waist, her heels digging into my back as I drive my cock into her, the angle hitting a spot that makes her cry out, her body arching off the bed.
“Jasper,” she pants, her voice breathless as she tightens around me again, her nails scratching down my back. “Don’t stop, please.” Her words are like fuel, pushing me closer to the edge. I’m teetering, my control slipping away as I thrust harder, faster, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Fuck, Miranda,” I groan, my voice breaking as I feel her trembling beneath me, her body on the brink. “Come with me, Princess. Let go.” Her eyes flutter closed, her lips parting in a silent scream as she shatters around me, her walls milking me in a way that sends me over the edge.
I bury my face in her neck, my body shaking as I spill into the condom, my moans muffled against her skin. Her hands clutch at my back, her body convulsing as she rides out her orgasm, her breath hot against my ear.
For a moment, the world narrows to just this—the feel of her, the sound of her, the scent of her. This right here is as close to perfect as I think anything can ever feel.
Callum looks up the second I walk into the pub, eyebrows raised before I’ve even reached the table.
“Alright,” he says slowly. “You’ve got a look.”
“A look,” I repeat, dropping into the seat opposite and taking one of the waiting pints.
He nods. “Yeah. One ofthoselooks. Something’s happened.”
I stare into my drink. I came here for a reason. I need to talk to someone—and it can't be my brothers.
“I spent the whole weekend with Miranda.”
His eyes widen, then narrow. “The weekend… as in—”
I glance at him. “All weekend… in my bed.”
“Well bloody hell,” he says after a short, shocked pause, leaning back. “That’s… quick.”
“It didn’t feel quick,” I say. “It felt like exactly where I was supposed to be.”
He doesn’t grin. Doesn’t mock. Just watches me for a second, then gives a slow nod.
“So it’s a thing now? You and her?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But it’s something. And it’s not casual. At least, not for me.” My heart starts racing at the thought that she could think this is only something casual.
“I figured,” he says, lifting his glass. “You’ve been looking at her like she’s made of stars for weeks.”
I huff a quiet laugh and clink his glass. “That obvious?”
“Painfully.”
I drain almost half of my pint in one go.
“I know it’s complicated,” I say, quieter now. “I know she’s got history and a child and it’s probably mad. But I like her. A lot.”
