Page 12 of Unholy Night
"Real." I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "You want real? I've killed men for less than looking at what's mine. Last night when you found my hand in your sleep, when you whispered my name in the darkness, I nearly tore down that pillow wall and showed you exactly how much you already belong to me."
Her breathing quickens, chest rising and falling rapidly. "I knew you were awake. I felt you fighting not to touch me."
"I was protecting you," I growl, fingers tightening on her thighs. "From me. From this."
"I don't want protection." She rises up, bringing our faces inches apart. "Last night by the candlelight, when you kissed me like you were drowning and I was air, I knew I wanted you."
That confession obliterates the last of my restraint. I crash my mouth to hers, and it's nothing like our careful kiss by the fireplace. This is possession, pure and simple. My tongue strokes against hers while my hands slide up her thighs, gripping her hips to pull her against me. She moans into my mouth, legs wrapping around my waist, ankles locking like she's afraid I'll pull away.
Not a fucking chance.
I kiss her like I'm trying to consume her, like I can somehow imprint myself so deeply she'll never mention another man's name again. She meets me stroke for stroke, her nails scraping against my scalp as she grips my hair. The slight pain makes me growl, makes me want to bend her over this counter and fuck her until she forgets every name but mine.
"This is a mistake," she gasps when I move to her throat, teeth grazing the spot where her pulse hammers.
"I don't care." I bite down gently, just enough to make her arch against me. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to stop."
Her answer is to pull my mouth back to hers, kissing me with a desperation that matches my own. "I want this. I want you. Stop asking permission."
I lift her off the counter, her legs still wrapped around me, and carry her toward the bedroom. She's kissing my neck, my jaw, anywhere she can reach, and each press of her lips burns like a brand.
"Tomas," she breathes against my ear, and my name in her mouth makes me almost stumble. "Please."
I kick the bedroom door shut behind us, setting her on her feet only to immediately press her back against the wall. Myhands are everywhere: tangling in her hair, gripping her waist, sliding under that cashmere sweater to find warm, soft skin.
"Tell me you want me," I demand against her mouth, fingers finding the hem of her leggings.
"Yes," she gasps as I pull them down her legs, dropping to my knees to remove them completely. "I need you."
Looking up at her from my knees, I've never seen anything more beautiful. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, cheeks flushed, eyes dark with want. She's wearing simple black underwear, already damp with desire, and the sight makes my cock throb painfully against my jeans.
I press my mouth to her inner thigh, feeling her whole body shudder. "Say it again."
"I need you, Tomas. All of you."
I pull her underwear aside and taste her, and the sound she makes, half scream, half prayer, is better than any Christmas carol. Her fingers tangle in my hair as I work her with my tongue, learning exactly what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her legs shake. She's already close, I can feel it in the way her thighs tremble, the desperate little sounds escaping her throat.
"Not yet," I growl against her, standing and lifting her again. "When you come, it's going to be with me inside you."
She yanks at my shirt, buttons scattering across the floor in her desperation. Her mouth finds my chest, kissing scars she doesn't know the stories behind, marking me as surely as I'm marking her. I carry her to the bed, laying her down with more gentleness than I knew I possessed.
"You're everything," I tell her, pulling off her sweater, revealing perfect breasts in a black bra that matches her underwear. "Everything I never knew I needed."
She reaches for me, pulling me down for another searing kiss while her hands work at my belt. When she wraps her fingers around my cock, I nearly lose control entirely.
"I need you," she whispers, stroking me with perfect pressure. "Now, Tomas. Please."
I remove the last barriers between us, taking a moment to just look at her spread out on my bed, flushed and wanting. Then I'm positioning myself at her entrance, watching her face as I push inside slowly, letting her adjust to my size.
"Fuck," I groan when I'm fully seated inside her. She's so tight, so wet, so perfect around me. "You feel incredible."
She arches beneath me, nails digging into my shoulders. "Move. Please, God, move."
I start slow, pulling almost completely out before pushing back in, watching her face contort with pleasure. But slow doesn't last long. Soon I'm fucking her with the desperation of two nights of pent-up desire, and she's meeting me thrust for thrust, her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me deeper.
"Harder," she demands, and I flip us so she's on top, watching her ride me with abandon. Her breasts bounce with each movement, and I lean up to capture a nipple in my mouth, making her cry out.
"That's it," I growl, gripping her hips to guide her movements. "Take what you need."
