Page 58 of A Wrong Bed Christmas: Ignited\Where There's Smoke

Erik flopped back, smiling as he watched her run to the small bathroom off the main room, teeth chattering. He liked her pluck...and that she was thoughtful about hygiene. It took him back to last night and her hopping from the bed after giving him the most excruciatingly wonderful pleasure with her pretty mouth.

In less than a minute she ran back, jumping into bed, her body shaking. “Holy Moses, it’s so cold.”

“The fire will get us warm...but first let’s make our own heat.”

Emma giggled.

“What? Too cheesy?”

“Yeah, but I like cheesy sometimes. Come on, big boy. Come light my fire.” She curved a hand around his neck and tugged him to her.

“Isn’t that a song?” he murmured, dropping kisses on lips that tasted of toothpaste.

“Mmm-hmm,” she moaned, opening her mouth to him. He started unbuttoning her pajama top, dying to see her breasts in the faint light of day. In the flickering light of the dying fire, they’d been so perfect, but he needed to see the pink-tipped breasts, taste them once again.

When he reached the last button, he broke the kiss, pulling the covers back so he could see her. It had grown lighter in the past half hour and now the darkness had been replaced by the grayness of dawn.

He had been right. Her breasts were perfect, gently sloped, fuller on bottom than top, the nipples a dusky pink. They were hard for him, begging him to taste them.

So he obliged, softly kissing the one closest to him, sucking her into his mouth.

Emma hissed, her head falling back on the pillow. “Oh, Erik. That’s so nice.”

“Is it, baby?” he said, turning his attention to the other breast, pressing her back onto the bed.

Emma nodded, her eyes closing as he worshipped the beauty before him. He traced a finger down her belly, which was flat and much smaller at the waist than he remembered. Slowly he slipped a hand into her pajama pants, burrowing beneath her panties to cup her sex. She was slick and ready for him.

He allowed his middle finger to slip inside to the sweet dampness and, finding her clit, he began to make tiny circles.

“Oh,” she said, arching her back before thrusting her hips upward.

“Easy, babe,” he said, allowing her nipple to slide from his mouth. “I want to watch you come. Will you come for me, Emma?”

“If you keep doing that,” she said, opening her eyes to watch him.

At that moment, he knew he needed to see all of her. He slipped his hand from her and lifted himself slightly so he could slide her pajama pants down past her knees. Then he did the same with her panties.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so pretty,” he said, feathering through the trimmed hair covering her. He parted her folds with his fingers, catching a peek of the small bud. He started the circles again, shifting his gaze from her sweet womanhood to the pleasure on her face.

“Oh, heavenly days. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop,” she groaned.

“Not even if a herd of buffalo stampeded,” he said, quickening his movements, pausing only to move down, slipping his finger inside her before returning to her clit again. He loved the feel of her—so warm, wet and womanly. It was addictive.

Emma moved her hips, her eyes screwed closed as her breath came in short pants. Then suddenly her entire body tightened.

“Ah,” she moaned, her hands slamming down to clutch the sheets as she rode her orgasm.

He didn’t let up. Watching her come was also addictive and he wanted to see it again. And again. And again. Making love to Emma was one of the best things he’d done in forever. He wanted to savor the sight of her coming undone, the smell of their passion, the feel of her body clenching around him.

“Oh, oh, please,” she panted, sliding her hands up to cup her own breasts. That sight refueled him and he slid his finger inside her, moving rhythmically, finding that sweet, sweet spot that would launch her anew.

And it did.

A new round of tightening, legs shaking as she found her release again.

“Don’t stop,” she yelled, thrusting her hips in time with him, feet planted, mouth open. “What are you doing to me?”

“No, what are you doing to me?” he asked, meaning it. This gorgeous woman was splendidly wrought, made to be played by his hands.

Suddenly she pushed his hand from her body. “I want you. Inside me.” She reached for his waistband.

“You don’t have to ask twice.” He shucked off his boxers and reached for the box of condoms. She tried to take the package from him, but he brushed her hand away. Jabbing on the condom, he rolled it down his length and nudged her legs apart so he could settle into the sweetest place imaginable.

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