Chapter Four #2
Before she could mouth off, I jerked my chin in a silent command.
She spun on her heel and led me inside. Once the heat of our home hit me, I let my shoulders relax as I took in the holiday decor.
My once cold and lifeless cabin now looked like something out of a cheesy fuckin’ movie.
There was a small tree in the corner by the fireplace, wrapped in bright red ribbon.
Dark green balls hung from the branches and glimmered in the firelight, and a large golden star sat at the very top.
It was perfect. My leather couch and chairs were dotted with snowmen pillows and holiday-themed throw blankets.
My firefly had even changed out the rug underneath the coffee table for a red and green one.
“You still think it’s too much?” she asked as she came into my arms.
The side of my mouth tipped up. “It’s growin’ on me,” I said, pressing my lips to hers.
I felt her body relax against mine, and as my tongue slipped between her lips, she hummed against me.
I kicked the door shut behind me and brought my hands up to cup her face, my fingers going into her hair.
“Fuck,” I grunted, her sweetness on my tongue.
I tore my mouth from hers, dragging my lips along her jawline as I tipped her head back.
I covered her with my kisses, needing more of her.
It would never be enough.
Both of us would always try to make up for the time we didn’t allow ourselves to have.
When I dropped my mouth to her neck, finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, her hands slid underneath my coat and shirt, touching my scars.
I didn’t even flinch. Hell, she owned me, body, soul, mind—all of me was hers.
Her touch was the only one I welcomed. I groaned as her soft hands traced over my abs, then lower, going to my belt.
“Please,” she rasped.
I smiled against her skin, nipping at it. She shivered against me as my hands went around her waist again. “What do you need, Firefly?”
“You.”
“Gotta be more specific,” I drawled, finding her mouth again.
She opened for me, eager and ready. As our tongues danced, clothes began falling to the floor.
First my coat, then her sweater. By the time she managed to shove my shirt over my head, I was losing patience. “Tell me what you want, needy girl.”
“I want you to fuck me,” she moaned as my hand found her breasts.
With a growl, I pulled her hands away from me and backed her up until she hit the arm of the couch. She let out a small yelp as I yanked her jeans down, taking her bright pink panties with them. “Step out of ’em,” I ordered, feeling my cock jump.
Once she was completely naked before me, I stepped back, admiring her beauty.
Over the last three months, I’d noticed small changes in her body.
Her breasts, already works of art, were fuller.
Her face was slightly rounder, and her soft stomach was more pronounced.
She was a walking fantasy, and right now, she couldn’t get enough of me.
Every night last week, I woke up to her either stroking or sucking my dick, her tongue or fingers swirling around my piercing.
My eyes dropped to the apex of her thighs, lingering on her dark blond curls.
I grunted, wanting her cum on my tongue, but she didn’t need my mouth right now.
She needed to be stretched and used.
“You’ve always been my weakness, baby,” I began, my voice thick with need as I flicked open my belt and jeans. “So fuckin’ beautiful, but I never imagined how you would look with my child inside you. You’re a dream—my dream.”
Her nipples, dark pink and mouthwatering, were puckered, begging for me as her chest heaved. Her cheeks were bright red now, her hazel eyes shining with desire. “Only you could make a pregnant woman feel beautiful.”
I groaned, fisting my cock and freeing it for her. “You’re not even fucking swollen yet, and you’re driving me insane.” Her lips parted as she gaped at my length, her eyes zeroing in on the small silver ball at my tip. “All I want to do is pump you full. All day. Every fuckin’ day.”
“Please,” she begged, pinching one of her nipples. “Please, Mags.”
My jaw tightened. “Perch yourself on the edge and spread, gorgeous. I want to see how wet my needy little pussy is.” Slowly, just to torture me, she did as she was told.
Putting her hands on her knees before opening her legs.
A raw, primal sound came out of me at the sight of her wet core, pink, swollen, and shining.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
My fingers wrapped around my cock, and as I stroked myself, she watched, panting.
Three words left her lips then. Three little words was all it took for my control to snap.
“I need you.”
I was on her in seconds, hooking her leg around my hip with one hand and grabbing the back of her hair with the other. Another growl left me as I yanked her head back, lined myself up to her entrance, and slowly sank into her, both of us moaning as our bodies connected.
“Hold my eyes,” I commanded roughly, filling her completely.
Her eyelids fluttered with pleasure, but she kept her gaze on me, her mouth dropping open. “Mags.”
Flexing my hips, I brushed my lips against her cheek.
“I know, baby. I know.” I pulled out slowly, feeling her walls trying to keep me in, tightening and pulsing around me.
I didn’t give her a chance to do much of anything before I slammed back inside her.
Her leg tightened around my hip as she brought her other up, caging us together as I started to fuck her.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” I whispered, resting my forehead against hers as the sounds of our bodies filled our living room.
Her nails began to dig into my shoulders as our breaths collided in time with our hips. “You feel so good,” she breathed. “You always feel so good.”
I bit down, my fingers tightening in her hair.
I fucked her harder, needing more of her, and she clung to me.
Desperately. As if I was her only lifeline and she was mine.
Time fell away, along with the rest of the world, leaving only the two of us.
She moved her hips, grinding her clit against me in time with my thrusts.
“Love you, Firefly,” I grunted over her whimpers. Her arms wrapped around my neck as she kissed me, both of us chasing after our highs now. “Get there,” I growled, feeling my balls tighten.
She shook her head, denying me. “I want—I want to savor you.”
My hand wrapped around the front of her neck. “You can savor me by coming on my cock.”
Her eyes flashed with ecstasy, and with a final thrust, she gave me what I wanted and let go. She cried out my name. Her body spasmed against mine, her thighs shaking as the walls of her cunt fluttered around my shaft, my piercing against her womb.
“That’s it,” I praised softly. “Come on your cowboy’s dick, baby. Make a fuckin’ mess on me for Christmas.”
My firefly’s head fell back as her back arched, a beautiful gasp leaving her as I continued to fuck her through her climax. She leaned back, and I kept her suspended in the air with one arm, holding her hips down with my free hand now as I pounded into her.
My woman. My lover. My light in the darkness.
“Mine,” I clipped. “All fuckin’ mine.”
“Yours, yours, yours,” she chanted as her eyes rolled back, her blond hair hanging down like a waterfall of heaven.
Her tits bounced, her body taking my fucking as it was meant to.
Her hands slid down my chest, both of them going to my scars, tracing over the damaged flesh with love. “I love you, cowboy.”
Fuckin’ hell.
I barked out her name, black spots covering my vision as I filled her.
My thrusts became erratic, short and harsh as I coated her womb with my seed.
Moments later, I pulled her into my arms, lifted her up, and took a seat in my chair with her on my lap, my cock softening inside her.
The logs in the fireplace cracked and split, orange embers floating into the chimney as she buried her face in my neck.
I dragged my fingers up and down her spine lightly, feeling her weight on top of me, her heart racing against my chest, matching mine.
We stayed like that for some time, both of us savoring the silence as our bodies calmed down.
“You’re going to need to do that again before we go to bed,” she whispered, pulling back to look down at me. Her hair was a mess, her face flushed, her lips swollen from my kisses. She was a work of art.
I brought my hand up, tracing a single finger down the column of her neck, over her collarbone, and along the outside of her breast. I watched in awe as her nipple hardened again, her pregnant body ready for more.
“Drove into town three times this week to fuck you between your client meetings,” I reminded her. “Poor Thomas hasn’t had a chance to enjoy his lunch at his desk since the middle of December.”
She shifted in my lap, causing me to groan. “The doctor said my libido would increase at the end of the first trimester.”
“Yes, but your man has work to do.”
Her lips stretched into a smile. “Would you rather me just take care of it myself?”
The image of her in her office, leaning back in her chair with one of her pencil skirts shoved up filled my mind. My cock began to harden inside her again. “I’m gonna fuck you again before we head up to the main house,” I threatened.
Her smile widened. “Please.”
I looked to the ceiling, searching for strength. This woman was going to kill me.
The smell of sex surrounded us, but it was the scent of cinnamon in the air that had my attention now.
This meant her famous apple crisp was in the oven.
I looked over my shoulder to the kitchen, my eyes narrowing on the cast-iron skillet sitting on the stovetop.
That’s what she used to cook the apples in.
“Is that apple crisp for me?” I asked, fully ready to make her ride me here and now as a reward.
“No, it’s for tonight.”
So she wanted to make me wait? To torture me? On Christmas eve?
“I can wait until tonight,” I replied, looking at her again. “This is the season of giving, baby.”
“No—Mags, it’s for the prep party tonight. Just a little snack for everyone.”
My head ticked to the side. “Your apple crisp is my favorite thing to eat on this fuckin’ planet.” I cupped her face in my hands. “That, and your cunt. Now, you’re telling me that I have to share?”
She pressed her lips together, holding in her laugh for a second. “You do realize that NJ loves my apple crisp too, right?”
“Sharing with her isn’t a problem. She doesn’t eat much.”
Diana raised a brow. “Uh huh.”
I looked at the Christmas tree and then back to her. “What the hell is a prep party?”
It sounded like a special kind of torture.
Diana’s laughter filled the air then. “Everyone is going to the main house for games and to prep for all the cooking tomorrow. Valerie is decorating the dining room, Harmony and Abbie are prepping the sides, Mason is going to prep the ham—”
“Cannot believe you all assigned him the ham,” I muttered, resting my hands on her bare hips now as I leaned back.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Mason is a shit cook.”
“He is not.”
I leveled her with a look. “Firefly, he spent the majority of his adult life on the road and riding bulls. When did he have the fuckin’ time to teach himself how to cook—and cook well?”
She blinked. “He said he could do it.”
I sighed through my nose. “And all the women just believed him, huh?”
“Harmony vouched for him,” she countered.
My brow lifted. “Harmony is married to him and takes his cock faithfully, Diana. Of course, she did.”
Gaping at me, she shook her head. “Mags!”
I lifted her hips and let her fall down, filling her.
She whimpered. “I’m done talking. You made an apple crisp that I have to share, and you’re dragging me to a damn prep party,” I declared, my fingers pressing into the soft, plump flesh of her hips.
We could worry about the Christmas shit later.
“Spread some holiday cheer for me and bounce on my cock.”