Page 20 of Tinsel & Timber
When my fingers brush the side of her ribs, she shivers so hard she almost knocks me backward.
“Graham…” she breathes, and the sound is wrecking.
I lift her—just enough to pin her against the wall—and her legs wrap around me instinctively. She’s soft everywhere. And me? I’m hard and wanting.
Her lips trail along my jaw, my neck, my throat. Mara’s nails skim the back of my neck. I let out a growl, low and uncontrollable.
“God, you feel good,” she whispers.
I’m halfway gone already.
My hands slide down her thighs, gripping, lifting, encouraging. She rolls her hips against me once—slow and devastating—and I nearly lose my mind.
“Mara…” I rasp. “If you keep doing that…”
“Please…don’t stop me,” she pleads.
I press her harder into the wall, grinding against her without meaning to, and she gasps—sharp, needy,perfect. Her lips part, and I take advantage, kissing her until her breathing goes uneven.
Mara’s fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt, tracing and exploring. She’s touching me like she’s been curious for days. Maybe longer. And the truth is, I’ve thought about her hands on me more times than I want to admit.
Her sweater rides up higher, and I trail my fingers over the bare strip of her lower back. She arches into me, pushing her chest against mine, and the friction between us nearly undoes me.
I break the kiss for half a second—which is half a second too long—because she’s already tugging at my belt like she’s not ready to stop, like shecan’tstop.
A groan catches in my throat. “Mara—wait—sweetheart?—”
She freezes, breath ragged, eyes dark with want. “If you’re about to say you don’t want this?—”
“I do.” My voice is rough, strained, honest to the bone. “You have no idea how much.”
“Then let me touch you, Graham. I want to feel all of you.”
“Only if you plan on letting me touch you, too.”
“Yes. God, yes.”
Mara’s hands find their way into my pants and she palms my erection through the fabric of my boxers. I reach between us and cup her sex.
“More,” she pleads.
I fumble with the zipper on her jeans, too distracted by her hand stroking me. But when I finally run my fingers over her sensitive flesh, she’s soaked.
Mara rocks against my hand and buries her face in my neck. “Just like that.”
“Whatever you need, sweetheart.”
I press two fingers inside of her and rub her clit with my thumb, delighted when I feel her pussy clench around me. Visions of all of the filthy things I want to do to her play in my mind like the dirtiest movie I’ve ever dared to watch.
Mara has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. The beast that she’s unleashed inside of me. I can only hope she can handle it.
Her grip on my cock tightens, almost painfully, the closer she gets to her orgasm. The bite of pain turns me on even more. I’m not far from blowing my load as it is.
Her gorgeous eyes snap closed and she finally comes for me, somehow still managing to work her skilled hand up and down my dick. I can’t help it. I explode with a grunt and a shudder as she calls out my name.
I kiss her slowly this time—still hungry, still aching—but gentler around the edges. Her legs loosen from around me after I withdraw my fingers. She slides down until her feet hit the floor, but stays pressed against me, palms on my chest now, cheeks flushed.
I suck my fingers into my mouth and lick themclean, savoring the taste of her. Mara’s breath catches and hers darken with desire again.
