Page 7 of Chasing Christmas

"Really? Wait. How?"

He chuckles, carrying me into my room. And then he pauses and glances around.

"Nice," he murmurs.

"Thanks." I smile, glad he approves. My room is my sanctuary. It was designed for comfort and relaxation. The gray and black walls make it feel a little like a giant cave with plants and flowers trailing from hangers in the corners. When the curtains are open, natural light pours in from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the valley on the far side of the room. The gold furniture and purple bedding add pops of color. Lighting hangs from invisible wires, seeming to float suspended in midair.

"I could taste it on you."

"What?"

"Your virginity." He strides toward the bed, stopping at the foot. He dips his head to look at me again, his eyes dark. His lips trail down the side of my face and then brush across mine. "Tastes like it'll belong to me soon, princess."

I groan as my stomach turns a flip, heat flooding my system all over again.

He sets me on my feet in front of him, keeping me anchored to his body with one hand on my hip. His mouth touches mine again in a soft kiss. And then he dips his head, kissing along my cleavage. I throw my head back, moaning his name.

I moan it louder when he tugs my dress down to pull one hard nipple into the hot cavern of his mouth. God, his mouth is delightful. And sinful. He's very good with it. Too good, perhaps. My legs tremble, my knees threatening to give out as he licks and bites my nipples, driving me crazy all over again.

I'm a stuttering, sweaty mess. And he's still fully dressed. That doesn't seem entirely fair to me. I want to see him too,touchhim too. I reach for him, working through the buttons on his shirt with thick, uncooperative fingers.

He stops long enough to help me strip it from him.

I was wrong. So wrong. He isn't the sexiest man I've ever seen. He's the sexiest man, period. His body is incredible. He isn't ripped. It's obvious he doesn't spend hours at the gym or working with a personal trainer. He's thick and solid everywhere, firm and unyielding. And that is so damn sexy to me. God, he's beautiful, like a massive, wild bear.

The scar across his face isn't the only one. Everywhere I look, I find another etched into his skin. Like the one across his cheek, they're puckered and mottled, as if something rent his flesh and then consumed it in fire to seal the wound.

The surgical scar down his sternum is so old it's silver.

"You had heart surgery," I whisper, placing my hand over it.

"When I was a kid."

"Are you…?"

"I've fine, princess," he rumbles. "I was sick for a few years, but that was a long time ago."

"I'm sorry." I lean forward, pressing my lips to the scar, and then brush my fingertips across the mass of scar tissue beneath his ribcage. It looks as if someone poured acid directly onto his flesh. "It wasn't a stunt gone wrong, was it?" I ask, tracing the area with trembling fingers.

"No," he says after a moment.

I want to ask for more, but I don't. We have plenty of time to learn everything there is to know about each other later because I'm not letting this man go. I've already decided that I'm keeping him. I lean forward and place my lips against his scar. "Thank you," I whisper.

"For what?"

"For trusting me."

"Jesus," he rumbles, pulling me back into his arms. His mouth comes down on mine. This time, his kiss is tinged with softness, a sweetness that has emotion welling in my chest. I'm falling in love with this beautiful, complicated man. It shouldn't be possible…and yet it's happening anyway.

We undress each other slowly, neither speaking as we kiss and touch, learning each other. He's every bit as big and hard as I suspected. My core clenches at the thought of feeling him inside me. I want it more than I want my next breath. I wanthimmore than I think I've ever wanted anything.

"Goddamn," he hisses, bucking his hips into my hand when I wrap my fingers around his shaft, stroking him. He shoves his hand between my legs in response, playing with me.

We work together, driving each other crazy. I've never touched anyone like this, but all I have to do is watch his face to know what he likes. When I squeeze, he growls. When I trail my fingers over his balls, he curses.

He loses it completely when I lean down and lick the head of his cock. I barely have my lips wrapped around him before I'm flying through the air. I land on the bed with one very turned-on man looming over me.

"We agreed that you were going to behave," he growls, shoving my legs apart.