Page 23 of One Christmas Night With You
“Beckett.” His name falls from my lips like a prayer. My orgasm rips through me, and I can now say I am a member of the triple orgasm club. He continues moving inside me as my orgasm rolls through me. When the sensation settles, he pulls the pillow out from under me, and my body sags, utterly spent and sated.
He pushes a hand through his now damp hair, his chest heaving with exertion, and I roll onto my side, feeling my eyes drift close, but flips me onto my front and then pulls my back to his hard chest.
“Angel, we aren’t finished here. I’m not done with you yet. I know you’ve got another one in you.”
Chapter Ten
Beckett
When Noelle told me she hadn’t had more than one orgasm in a night, I took that as a challenge. But now I’ve had a feel of her, I just want to lavish her with every bit of pleasure she deserves. Our connection is rare; we fit, it makes sense, it’s like I’ve always known her, and when I’m buried to the hilt inside her, it feels like something more than just a quick fuck. Something has shifted, and I can’t get enough of this girl.
It took every ounce of restraint not to blow my load just now, but I don’t want this to be over too quickly, and I want to give her a night she won’t forget.
I nip at her shoulder, and she releases a small whimper. I brush a hand down her spine and gently push her down so she’s on her hands and knees.
She adjusts herself so I have a perfect view of her perky ass and entrance. I can’t resist another taste. I glide my tongue through her pussy lips, starting at her clit and ending at her backentrance. She gasps and jolts forward, and I chuckle against her skin.
I settle behind her, lining up my throbbing cock that is desperate for release and push inside her tight walls that strangle my cock and we both moan out in pleasure at the same time. She’s so wet and feels like fucking heaven at this angle. I move slowly, giving her a second to get used to my size again, but that’s all I give her.
As I drive into her, she meets me, her ass bouncing off my cock over and over again, my eyes drifting to where we meet, and the sight has my cock turning to stone. I could come from this vision alone, and it’s one I’ll be storing away for later use.
“Oh my god, Beckett.” The way she moans my name does something to me; my name never sounded so good.
I weave a hand into her hair and pull back her head. Her breathless gasps and whimpers are hot as fuck.
“Say my name again,” I growl. “Fucking say it, angel, and I’ll let you come.”
“Beckett, fuck me harder,” she gasps desperately, and that’s all I need. I release her hair, pushing her to the mattress, and gripping the back of her neck for support. “Yes, like that. Fuck me.”
“I love hearing you beg,” I hiss out between thrusts. Her hips and ass arch and grind back into me. Beads of sweat roll down my torso, her skin feels hot beneath my hands, both fighting to keep a hold of this feeling but with the sounds of flesh on flesh slapping, our erratic moans of pleasure fill the room, my balls tighten and I release with a guttural cry just as she collapses, screaming out my name as the peak of her pleasure rolls through her body. She shudders beneath me, and I do my best to hold myself up, but it's no use, and I fall on top of her, our sweat soaked skin fusing as we ride out this feeling. A feeling that is new and addictive, one I don’t think I can easily walk away from.
When I move off her, she takes in a greedy gasp of air. I roll her over and pull her to me, so she’s neatly tucked into my large frame. Our breathing is uneven, and yet perfectly matched. We lay like that for what feels like hours; my heartbeat thumping against her back. I glance at the time: 12.08. It’s officially Christmas and her birthday. I nuzzle into her hair, inhaling her sweet floral scent, and press a kiss to her head.
“Merry Christmas, angel,” I say softly.
“Merry Christmas, Beckett.” I consider telling her my real name, but my fear of her then asking more questions about me takes over.
Instead, I tighten my grip and say, “And happy birthday.”
She presses her lips against my forearm, and I let out a long exhale.
This, this right here, feels like more than one night, but I need to get that thought out of my head. It’s one night, just one night, Beckett. That’s all this is. But what if it could be more?
I’m woken by an irritating buzzing. I peel open one eye, and it takes a second for me to accept my surroundings. A bottle of champagne on the nightstand, clothes strewn around the cream carpet of my hotel room and a stunning blonde laid beside me, curled up, naked, with only a white sheet covering half of her.
Memories of last night come rushing back, and I drag a hand down my face. Fuck, what a night. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I’m glad she’s still here. I don’t think I can just walk away from this girl. Last night was so unexpected, and if there is anything I have learned in this life, is that when something feels good, feels right, you take it, cling to it. You find a way to make it work because there are no promises in life, so if you are blessedenough to have something good, you don’t let it go without a fight.
The buzzing continues, and I throw back the bedsheet, trying not to disturb her. I bend down, fumbling through my pockets for my phone, but it’s not coming from my personal phone; it’s coming from the work phone in my bag, which can only mean one thing.
“Beckett,” I say when I answer it.
“This is Sergent Brown, I’m sorry to disturb you on Christmas Day, but you have notice to deploy in the next six hours.”
I freeze. Six hours? When I was in active duty in the Marines I transferred across to the special forces. When I left four years ago, I couldn’t fully let go of the life and opted to become a Reserve. Aside from my annual training week, I have only been called up twice. I specialize in reconnaissance and security breaches, so if I’m getting a call on Christmas Day, something big is happening.
“Ugh, okay, how long will I be gone?” I ask, glancing over at a sleeping Noelle, my gut churning at having to leave her so soon after meeting her.
“It’s hard to say but prepare for up to nine months.”
