Page 118 of My Favorite Holidate
When he gets down to his boxer briefs, my tongue darts out, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Wilder.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asks.
“Yes. Your dick is a fucking present,” I say, then feeling daring, I add, “Tastes like a present too.”
His breath hisses. “Your beautiful filthy mouth…It looks so pretty with my cock in it.” He pushes his boxers down, his thick, hard cock springing free and pointing my way. “But you don’t get to suck it tonight.”
“What do I get?”
“What you need,” he says with authority.
I shudder. I need him to fuck me so badly. And I don’t want to keep that thought to myself. Here in bed with him, I can speak the truth of my heart. “I want you to fuck me so badly,” I say, and I can’t believe I’ve said that, but it feels so good.
His eyes squeeze shut for a second like this is hard for him. Like he has to collect himself. When he opens them, he says, “You have no idea how much I want you.”
But one look at his cock, leaking at the tip, and I think I do know how much. He crawls between my legs, his hard dick bobbing. He takes his time tugging on one end of the ribbon to undo the bindings on my wrist. When thefabric falls to the bed, he reaches under my breasts and starts to free them too, unknotting the bow. “I have wanted to unwrap you for so long,” he says, his tone a shade of desperation.
“Since we started this?” I ask impulsively. Because I have to know. I can’t leave that confession untouched.
He swallows, pauses, and I’m pretty sure he’s about to say yes. Instead, he says, “Well before that.”
Then he shuts up and finishes unwrapping the red satin ribbon, leaving me with that admission. My friends were right. He’s had it bad for me for a while. But how long? Since before Brady?
The thought makes my breath catch. My mind whirls with this new information. My body aches with this fresh want. When he’s freed my hands, I sit up and rope my arms around his neck, pulling him close. We’re tangled up together, kissing so deeply it feels like we could last well beyond the holidays.
I don’t know what to make of that thought so I focus on the physical, on the way the kiss turns into a white-hot ache right between my thighs. I break the kiss, panting, “Fuck me now.”
He grips my chin roughly. “You don’t give the orders. I do.”
I grin wickedly, arousal gathering between my thighs. I’m so turned on I can feel wetness sliding down the inside of my thigh. “Then order me around.”
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I comply, and I wait for him to line up behind me. But first, he grabs the ribbon, and…
Oh.
When he moves behind me, he adjusts my legs, and ties up…my ankles, each one separately, leaving just enough ribbon in between so they’re a foot apart. “Down onto your elbows,” he commands.
I sink down, craning my neck to watch him the whole time as he grabs a condom, slides it on, and notches the head of his cock against me. His jaw tightens, like he’s at war with himself, then he seems to lose the battle. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long,” he says then shoves his cock into me and fills me all the way.
I cry out with pleasure.
“Wanted to fuck you when it’s snowing. Wanted to kiss you by the fireplace. Wanted to taste you,” he says, and I’m overwhelmed by the pleasure and the admission.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” I say.
He eases in then out, his hands gripping the flesh of my ass as he finds a rhythm that matches the flickering of the lights on the Christmas tree. With a passion that mirrors the sultry tone of the music. With a lust that’s stronger than the crackling fire.
We smash all our fake romance guidelines that we set long ago. We throw out the dating handbook. We move together like wearetogether. He covers my back, grabs my chin, turns my face, and kisses me as he fucks me.
It’s hot and deep and burns to the center of my soul. I want to spread my legs, but the ribbon’s keeping them in place, so it’s like I can’t escape the sensations, the building of the orgasm I have no control over.
He hits a spot deep inside me over and over again. I’m close, so close, and I don’t want to lose it, so I tell him urgently, “Use your fingers.”
“I’ll accept that order.” He slides a hand between my thighs and strokes my clit as he fucks me deep and hard into the snowy night.
In seconds, I’m clawing at the sheets, shaking, and then falling apart beneath him.