Page 62 of Her Holiday Arrangement
Riley shook her head. “Don’t you dare.”
Elizabeth exhaled, a sound almost like a laugh but too fragile for joy. She pressed her lips to Riley’s temple, then her cheek, then found her mouth again.
Elizabeth’s fingers wound their way around to Riley’s back, smoothly unzipping her dress. It slid from Riley’s body, hitting the floor with a whisper. Goosebumps prickled over Riley’s skin, from chill or anticipation, Elizabeth couldn’t tell. She grazed her fingernails down Riley’s soft skin, watching as Riley shivered in response.
Once she reached Riley’s breasts, she couldn’t help herself; she took each of them in her hands, gently squeezing and caressing them. Her rosy nipples were rock hard, waiting for Elizabeth’s touch, she grazed across them with the pads of her fingers, only a whisper of a touch, which drew out a desperate whine from Riley. Elizabeth looked up to see her head thrownback, spine arched. Her face was flushed and Elizabeth watched as her chest rose and fell with short needy breaths.
She circled Riley’s nipples, flicking back and forth across the sensitive nubs, each time a moan or a gasp came, it sent a spike of want right through Elizabeth. She bent down and captured one in her mouth causing Riley to cry out with pleasure. Sucking it between her lips she flicked over it with her tongue, copying the motions with her other hand.
Pulling back, Elizabeth gently pushed Riley back onto the sofa and crawled up after her, aligning herself above her.
Elizabeth trailed her hand south, stroking the soft skin over Riley’s stomach and thighs, smiling as she watched Riley open her thighs the closer her hand moved to where Riley wanted it most. Riley was soaking wet by the time Elizabeth’s fingers slid between her folds. She looked back up at Riley to see her eyes were completely glazed over with desire.
Riley’s pussy was slick and Elizabeth’s fingers glided their way between them, stopping to gently stroke over her clit, savoring the low moans it drew. As she stroked over the little bundle of nerves, she could feel as it swelled, as Riley came ever closer to the edge.
Elizabeth could see she was filling with tension. She sped up slightly again, her thumb flicking back and forth trying to bring Riley over the edge; finally, Riley let out a deep moan and a shudder wracked through her entire body, the aftershocks following as she continued to shake with her release. Once she had regained her breath, she yanked Elizabeth down beside her.
Elizabeth lay still, Riley’s head against her shoulder, their hands intertwined. For the first time in a very long time, she didn’t feel cold.
11
December 22nd - Riley
Riley had never been in a living room like this before this trip. Even after a week of being here, she still couldn’t wrap her head around it.
The tree towered over her, twelve feet of perfect symmetry dripping in glass ornaments that probably had their own insurance policy. A fire roared in the marble hearth, framed by a garland so lush and glossy it looked plucked from a magazine spread. Around her, Elizabeth’s family lounged with practiced ease, velvet dresses, tailored suits, diamonds flashing in the low light as though this was all completely normal.
For them, it was.
For Riley, it was like waking up in someone else’s Christmas movie. She perched on the edge of a carved chair, trying to look casual, as if she belonged. Her hands twisted in her lap, betraying her.
The first gift exchange had begun. One by one, beautifully wrapped boxes were handed around. Silver ribbon, gilded tags, monograms pressed into thick paper. Riley had brought hersmall contribution, but it felt like showing up to a Michelin-star dinner with a gas-station burrito.
Julian presented Margot with a necklace so delicate Riley worried she’d snap it by breathing too hard. Aunt Caroline gave Annette an antique brooch, which was received with a gracious nod and a comment about “taste.” Laughter swelled, glasses clinked.
Then Elizabeth’s name was called.
She shifted, leaning forward as a slim, perfectly wrapped box was placed in her lap. She accepted it with the same composure she carried everywhere: chin high, shoulders loose, every move calibrated. Riley knew it was performance, she’d seen the cracks when no one else was looking.
Elizabeth opened it with a swift tug, peeling away paper with surgeon-like precision. Inside was some kind of sleek pen Riley was sure cost more than her first car. Elizabeth smiled, murmured her thanks, and passed the gift along to be admired.
And then all eyes turned to Riley.
“Your turn,” someone said, Annette’s sister, maybe. Riley wasn’t sure; she’d stopped tracking names after the third glass of champagne.
A small box wrapped in silver was handed to her. Riley blinked, her mouth already curving into the polite “thank you for including me, I’ll be gracious no matter what’s inside” smile she’d been practicing all week.
But the handwriting on the tag froze her.
Elizabeth’s.
Riley swallowed. Carefully, she pulled the ribbon loose, peeled the paper back. Inside was a box the color of storm clouds. She lifted the lid.
Her breath caught.
A pair of gloves rested inside, supple black leather lined with soft cashmere, cut in exactly her size. Not just close. Exact.
Her throat went tight.
