Page 75 of A Manny for Christmas

‘Right answer, sweetheart,’ I tell her, giving her a soft smile before I lick hard into her mouth. She returns my kiss and grips my shaft tighter, dragging it over her soaking, newly bare flesh.

Fuck.

Nostrils flaring in my attempt to keep my shit together, I press a kiss to her mouth before lowering my lips to take in one beautiful nipple. I lick it with a couple of lazy swirls before taking it in my mouth and sucking as I palm her other breast, hard.

‘Max.’ She arches into me. Asking for more. ‘That feels sofuckinggood, I can’t tell you.’

In response, I suck harder, the combined sensation of her puckered nipple in my mouth and my dick dragging through her flesh nearly undoing me.

‘Do it,’ I tell her before resuming my sucking. I hold her tight and keep my mouth exactly where it is as she rises up higher on her knees to position my crown right where she needs it.

We both brace, her free hand grabbing at my hair, before she lowers herself down onto me.

Holy fucking shit. Being sheathed in Molly is spectacular. Being balls-deep in her as she straddles me, my body a cradle for hers, is nirvana.

I stop my suckling so I can get my face closer to hers. So we can experience this unravelling in real time together. Her blue eyes are hooded and limpid with desire as she rides me. I can’t really thrust in this position, something I’ll remedy in a second, so I grip her hair and grab her arse and help her to move up and down on top of me.

‘I need to fuck you properly,’ I tell her, and she nods eagerly, because, as lovely, as intimate, as intense as this position is, we both need me to really let her have it.

And so I wrap both arms firmly around her before tipping her backwards and following her, still joined where it matters.

‘Fuck, yes,’ I growl as I take in the sight of her beneath me, legs splayed, and tits heaving, and hair everywhere. ‘Hard and fast?’

She grips my shoulders, nails digging into my skin, the slight pain only amping me up further.‘Yes,’she hisses.

I let her have it, grabbing her arse with one hand to get her as flush against me as possible when I drive into her, my other hand taking her in a kind of headlock so I can keep that mouth of hers close.

We find a rhythm, and fuck does it work. I thrust, each hard pump of my cock bringing a rush of pleasure that tears through my balls and up my spine. I kiss her hard, revelling in the breathy moans that land in my mouth, and the slick onslaught of her tongue against mine, and the fucking peachiness of her arse in my hand, and the rhythmical slap of my balls against her flesh.

She claws at my arms, my back, her movements growing jerky and more feverish as her breaths get harder. More jagged. She’s close, which is excellent, because I’m sweating with the effort of holding my orgasm back till she’s come.

‘This was supposed’—thrust—‘to be slow and sweet,’ I grit out into her mouth, and her laugh turns into an agonised groan as I roll my hips again and hit that spot inside her. ‘Lazy. But I just. Couldn’t. Help myself. You are too. Fucking. Beautiful.’

She gasps and tries to say something likeyou too, but I’m pretty sure her imminent orgasm has crowded out all her non-sexual brain functions. And, while I’m in total awe of that creative, beautiful brain of hers, I fucking love her like this.

Speechless with arousal.

Totally present in this moment.

All mine.

I release her gorgeous backside for a moment so I can drag a leg over my shoulder, deepening my angle and giving her more friction against her clit. She moans and sinks her fingernails so deep into my flesh that, if she didn’t have to keep them short for work, I’m pretty sure she’d draw blood.

Not that I give a flying fuck about that right now.

She can bleed me dry, for all I care.

She’s already bleeding me dry.

The sight and sound and fuckingfeelof her about to come apart around me in my arms has my head spinning. I’m in awe, the halo of desire that shimmers around me, around us, growing brighter. This… coupling is the most intensely physical experience I could possibly have, surely, every nerve-ending in my body singing as I plough into her and feel the waves of her climax build, crest, break around me.

But, physical as it may be, it’s also transcendent. Molly and I are on another plane, a plane where the spinning, kaleidoscopic colours of our minds’ eyes trump reality, and, as I follow her over the edge, my bodily pleasure is so great it transports me to a place far beyond time and space, a state of consciousness that surely is the realm of angels—a place mortals like me have no place being.

27

MOLLY

Our gingerbread village is coming together with a perfection I didn’t dare hope for. My team, and the Visual Merchandising team, have spent the afternoon working together on the painstaking task of moving all the finished buildings from their individual stands to the huge table that forms the basis of the village, a task that is high-stakes and may yet give me a heart attack.

---