Page 37 of Deck the Halls with Cowboys
“I don’t want to be fucked again. I want you to make love to me in our bed.”
I smiled. “Merry Christmas, Enchantress.”
“Merry Christmas, Smoke.”
Chapter Ten
Abbie
I leaned over Beau’s long body, checking the knot around his ankle before leaning back to survey my handiwork. He was still asleep, had been for the last hour and a half. The room Val had given us had a four-post bed, a small chair in the corner, and an antique dresser that I was contemplating stealing. After Beau and I said our good nights, we took a shower together. He washed me and then dropped to his knees before I had the chance to put conditioner in my hair, hiked one of my legs over his shoulder, and feasted on me until I saw God.
When we’d gotten into the room, he said I didn’t have to return the favor until we were back in the cabin. Now, it was an hour into Christmas, and I wanted to fuck my cowboy. However, I wanted to fuck him my way.
I wanted to be in control.
I wanted to make him beg.
I wanted him to be at my mercy.
He was in the middle of the bed, dressed in a pair of green plaid PJ pants, his chest golden tan and bare. His blond hair was messed up, going in every direction, but his face reflected nothing but peace. His handsome features were relaxed, his perfect lips slightly parted, his broad chest rising and falling slowly. His arms were stretched out to the sides, both of his wrists tied to the bedposts with colored Christmas lights. His ankles were tied as well, but with a beautiful crimson ribbon. The same material I had wrapped around my breasts, just enough to cover my nipples. I sat naked on my knees between his strong legs, my core pulsing with need as I stared at his crotch.
Beau had done so much for me.
He’d saved my life. Not once, but twice.
He’d shown me who I could be, who I was meant to be. He helped me break the chains my mother had thrown upon me. He gave me a sense of freedom I never thought I could have. His love for me was the kind I’d read about in fairytales as a kid, when I snuck out of my mother’s trailer to hide in the library. He was the reason I wanted to live. He pushed my limits, in and out of the bedroom.
He loved me.
After everything, his love for me never wavered.
“Abbie?”
I looked up at his face, finding his bright blue eyes in the dim candlelight. He tried to move, muscles flexing as he tried to bring his hands down. He twisted his neck, looking up, finding the string of Christmas lights wrapped around either wrist and hanging down on the headboard above him. Slowly, oh so damn slowly, he turned his head back to me. His nostrils flared, his eyes dropping to my naked body, lingering on the ribbon. When he finally spoke, his gruff voice had my nipples hardening. “What are you doing, Wildflower?”
“Giving you your Christmas present,” I whispered, nearly breathless.
He grunted, his eyes dropping once more, lingering on the ribbon. “Not really a present if I can’t touch you, gorgeous.”
I bit my lip, my heart racing. “I’m not the present, babe.”
“Excuse me?”
I leaned forward, gliding a hand over his hard thigh. “Your pleasure is your present,” I rasped, finding his already hard cock against the inside of his thigh. He widened his legs as much as he could. His head shot up, his eyes narrowing on his feet. He groaned. “You filthy fuckin’ woman.”
“Are you going to let me do this, Beau?” I asked, all business now, not moving my hand.
His eyes met mine. “What are you asking for, beautiful?” he asked, voice gentle.
My mouth opened and closed, but the words never came. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, nerves suddenly eating at me. “I want—I want control,” I finally admitted. “Over you.”
His eyes flashed, his fire burning within them. “Why is your voice shaking?”
I looked down, unsure. Perhaps this was just an idea that was good on paper.
“Give me your eyes when we’re talking about this, Abbie,” he ordered.
My head lifted. “I want to give you what you give me.”
