Page 43 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

As his tongue circled and flicked, he plucked her nipple, firing up the thread that connected her two pleasure centers. Desire spiked so abruptly, she exploded in a climax that ripped through her. Catapulting out of her body, she floated free and unencumbered in a state of perfect bliss.

As the contractions eased, and her skin cooled, her bottom lowered to the mattress. But she barely had a moment to catch her breath before he loomed over her, his mouth sealing over hers and kissing her with voracious hunger. His cock teased her entry, easing in just slightly, then pulling back out.

He lowered his face into the crook of her neck. “I don’t have protection.”

Her fingers scraped across his scalp. “I haven’t had sex in over a year, and trust me, I got checked out eight months ago.” She wrapped her legs around his hips and squeezed.

“I haven’t had sex in a long time, and I’m clean, too.”

She reached for his ass and urged him forward. He notched himself at her entrance and watched her intently as he slowly pushed inside. Pleasure suffused features.

It had been so long since she’d been filled she’d forgotten how good it felt. Even longer since a man had to have her. And not because he needed to get off, but because he needed her.

She hadn’t realized how her divorce had hardened her until Beau softened her with his hunger.

As he drove into her, she clung to him. His breathing grew erratic, and he groaned deep in his throat. She was frantic to get closer, to feel him everywhere, but he was lost, out of his mind, so all she could do was hold on. She caressed his biceps as they bunched and flexed, thrilled by his strength, his power. His features darkened and his body went hot, his groans turning desperate, harsh, like he was barely hanging on, and she went wild with lust.

When he slid a hand under her bottom, tilting her hips at just the right angle, she cried out. It was all so intense—the smell of sex, the way he was losing control, his expression fraught with a mix of pleasure and pain—she was driven to heights beyond anything she’d ever experienced.

She came again—a second time.

That never happens.

It’s him.

I want him so much.

And then, he slammed up against her, pounding into her in fast, hard thrusts. His head tipped back, and his cries turned frenzied, as he drove into her again and again. Finally, he let out a roar. “Fuck, fuck. Fuck.” Once his tremors subsided, his thrusts slowed, and he glided in and out as though relishing the feel of her.

When he collapsed onto his side, he wrapped an arm across her and held her close. “Margot?”

“Mm-hm.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

Oh. She stiffened. She knew he was leaving, but already? No snuggle time at all?

“But I have to take a little nap. Just…a minute, okay?”

She laughed. “Go ahead. Don’t worry about it.”

In a groggy voice, he said, “You snatched the soul right out of my body.”

She didn’t think she’d ever felt closer to anyone. Sifting her fingers through his hair, she was aware of his breath—the way it slowed, evened out—and the way his body slackened. And she knew the exact moment he’d fallen asleep.

This man was so precious to her.

He’d never know the parts of her he’d healed.

Chapter Eight

The press of soft lips on her neck awakened her. She opened her eyes only to shut them again from the brightness of the lamp. It all came rushing back. The gifts, the sex.

Oh, what a night.

Beau kissed her mouth. “Sorry. I fell asleep.”

She picked up her phone to check the time. “That’s okay. It was only twenty minutes.”

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