Page 12 of Mistletoe Masquerade
No one has ever said anything so moving to me in my life. And with such earnest honesty. He’s truly captivated by everything about me, and it makes me feel like I can fly. I want to capture the feeling and harness it to keep it with me always.
His hands reach for my hips, then slowly drift down as he lowers himself to squat and unbuckle the delicate ankle straps on my red heels. He shows surprising dexterity with such large hands. Tenderness despite his strength.
How very promising for things to come.
When he returns to his feet, he slides off his belt with a single commanding tug and lets it fall to the floor. He then lifts me into his arms, his hands on my backside, coaxing my legs around his hips. I take the opportunity to find his lips again, kissing him deeply as he takes us out of the entry and to the living room.
He supports my weight effortlessly—one of the advantages of our size difference. Now that my heels are off, he’s a full foot taller than me and easily double my weight. That sort of disparity has made me uneasy around some men in the past, but not with Dean. He wields himself in a way that makes his size feel safe rather than threatening.
That sense of security is empowering.
Intoxicating.
I flex my hips to press myself against his hard length, still tucked away in his pants but straining up to reach me. Talk about a tease. He’s so thick and solid … and just out of my reach.
Frustration leaves me by way of a moan.
Dean nips at my bottom lip. “What is it, kitten? You need to feel my cock?” He sets me down, my ass balanced on the back of the sofa. “Is this what you want?” He works his hips to rub himself up and down against my center.
The sensation sends a blossoming warmth through my body that has me clambering for more. It’s an offering of crumbs when I see the whole feast just out of reach.
“Feels so good, but I need more, Dean.”
He makes a disapproving tsking sound. “So impatient.” He reaches between us and unbuttons his pants, letting them fall to his feet, then leans in to suck my breast into his mouth, nipping at the tip with exquisite tension that has my head rolling back.
My clit swells and pulses.
When he switches to my other breast, he grinds against me again, this time with nothing between us but the thin fabric of our underwear.
“Oh God.Yes.”
The enhanced feel of him has me hurdling toward a release I can hardly comprehend.
It’s too soon.
This never happens. But my muscles all clench, and my breaths hitch in my throat.
“You’re going to come for me already, aren’t you? Such a good girl.” He nips at my breast again, intensifying the graze of his teeth over my nipple, and it’s exactly what I need to seize hold of orgasmic bliss.
My thighs squeeze tight around his hips as I release a cry of ecstasy.
“Oh, baby girl. You’re in trouble.”
Dean’s gravelly words tease at my consciousness, still muddled as I drift on the waves of release.
“Huh?”
“Making you come might be my new favorite hobby.” He eases my feet to the floor and turns me to face the back of the couch, gently holding me steady in my disoriented state.
Once I’m securely holding the sofa, he kicks off his shoes and disappears from behind me for a moment. I hear a tear of foil, and a renewed tingle of excitement trickles down my spine.
I need this man inside me.Now.
Orgasms are fabulous, but there’s nothing like the feel of being well fucked.
When I sense him return to me, I arch my back to press my entrance toward him in invitation.
“Fuck, kitten. You couldn’t be any more perfect.”
