Chapter 6 - Holly Snow
I f someone had told me his lips would be on mine and the kiss would be so good I’d be walking to the elevator with wet panties, my reply would have been, “Not in a million years.” Yet here we are.
Meeting a guy, with a fucking Christmas name no less, in a hotel, making out with him, and then considering going to his room or taking him to mine—this isn’t like me. If I could do this day over again, I probably never would have gotten out of bed.And, if I don’t get at least a couple of hours of sleep before speaking with Andre, I’ll probably never be invited back to this place.
“Bridgett is going to owe me big time for this,” I mutter, thinking of the terrible sacrifice I’m making by having champagne with a man whose eyes match that of a clear blue sky. His body in the shape of a twenty year old, and whose crisp cologne reminds me of a frosty winter snow.
“Who’s Bridgett?” the godlike man asks from beside me.
Knowing she’ll get the biggest kick out of what happened, a sarcastic chuckle escapes as I press the button for the elevator. “She’s the one we’ve done all this for.”
“Hmm...”
The doors open and we step inside. Once they close, he takes the two steps toward me until my back is against the wall and his hands are on either side of my head, caging me in. “I hope you weren’t doing it all for her.”
I swallow hard and shake my head. Wondering if wrapping my arms around his neck and placing my lips on his again would make me out to be some kind of easy tramp in his eyes. Though searching the depths of those baby blues right now tells me he’s not thinking with his mind at all.
“And if I had?”
“You’d either be the best actress I’ve ever met...” He brushes his lips against mine with the faintest touch, then pulls away so I can’t take what I want. “Or she must be a damn good friend.”
“The latter,” I tell him before standing on my tiptoes and giving him the same torturous treatment.
His eyes darken, and a low growl rumbles from his chest. It’s the only warning I get before his mouth captures mine with so much force the back of my head hits the wall. If it hurts I don’t notice, how could I when all I can think about is how good he tastes and how hard his body feels pressed against mine.
Eight floors is too many, I want to be off this thing and in a room with a bed. It doesn’t really matter, his or mine. I just want him paying this much attention to the rest of me too. It’s been far too long since I’ve let a man get this close.
A ding chimes in the distance and I groan against his mouth. Not wanting to stop, but knowing we can continue this elsewhere, my hands press against his chest and he stops immediately, though doesn’t put any distance between us. With a raised brow, he cocks his head questioningly, most likely not noticing the ding.
“I think this is my floor,” I tell him, unable to see the numbers behind his size.
“Then it’s mine too,” he says with a wink and, damn, if I don’t want to eat this man alive.
“Uh hum. I’d say get a room, but since we’re already at a hotel, I’m assuming you’re just not making use of yours.” The masculine voice from beside us sounds amused.
My cheeks heat, and I bury my face in Kristian’s shirt. His chuckle vibrates against me. “Gotta make use of what you’ve got when the opportunity presents itself.”
The man laughs. “Lucky man.”
“That I am,” Kristian replies, kissing the top of my head.
“Looks like you have a couple of more floors to go. Just pretend I’m not here, and go on about your business.”
The man’s comment is creepy and Kristian’s arms tighten around me.
He positions us so he’s between me and the stranger. “The lady and I aren’t quite up for a show tonight. We’ll keep it respectable. At least until I can have her all to myself.” His tone is deep, authoritative. He’s staking his ground, and it sends shivers over my skin.
“Understood.”
The rest of the ride would be filled with silence if it wasn’t for the Christmas music. Something I would normally loathe but right now I’m just happy I can concentrate on it and not the man against the opposite wall.
Kristian doesn’t lessen his grip on me the entire time either, and this time is fully aware of the ding when we reach our floor. Double-checking the large red eight is illuminated above our head before he positions me by his side, he waits for the doors to open. When they do, both of us can’t depart the enclosed space quick enough.
“Have a great night. And I mean that,” the stranger calls out before his voice is muffled behind the steel.
“That was weird,” I tell Kristian, taking a step, but he stops me.
“Never let someone like him see which direction you take once you leave the elevator. And if they follow you off the elevator, never let them see which room is yours.”
I nod, knowing those rules myself, but my mind is all over the place at the moment. Hell, who in their right mind could think straight after having his mouth on theirs? And it’s still moving but I’ve no idea what else he’s said.
“Dammit, Holly, you’re not listening. And if you keep looking at me like that, I may change my mind and just take you right here, against the wall.”
The images of him doing just that dance around in my mind, and a sudden wave of desire is flooding my lower region.
“For fuck’s sake.” He grabs me by the arm and leads me in the direction of my room.
It’s not far, another reason to wait until the creepy guy was on his way to his own floor before we make our way down the hall.
Once we’re outside my room, I retrieve the key card from my back pocket and swipe it against the keypad then push the door open.
He doesn’t follow me in. Instead, when I turn to face him, he cups my chin and my heart sinks. Just when I’d gotten up the nerve to do something I never, in a million years, thought I’d do.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
Relief floods my chest when I realize he’s just being a gentleman and not rejecting me.
“My room is just across the hall.” He points behind him. “We can sleep on it, and see what tomorrow brings.”
If he thinks he’s getting off that easy, he has another thing coming. I grab his tie and pull him into my room, letting the door slam shut behind us before I lose all my self-control and wrap my arms around his neck, the force from my excitement causing him to stumble backward until he’s pressed up against the door. This time I am taking what I want.
The room is mostly dark, other than a thin line of light peeking through an opening in the curtains, and I know he can’t see how ugly the flaw is on my skin and it boosts my confidence.
I press my lips harder against his.
We move in perfect rhythm. As if we’ve done this before. Our tongues tasting, licking, and exploring the other. He gives as much as I take. No longer in a place where anyone walking by could see, we’re free to do and act how we want. And he’s not wasting that chance.
Fisting my hair, he tugs my head back and I can’t stop the gasp from escaping.
“I don’t think you know how fucking beautiful you are,” he growls, lowering his lips to my neck and placing tiny kisses on that soft spot, just below my ear.
It sends shivers over my skin.
“If you keep that up, I might let you fuck me against this door,” I utter, teasing him with a threat similar to what he’d given me earlier.
His lips stop moving and I yelp as he lifts me off the floor, spinning us around until my back is pressed against the steel and his body is between my legs. “Is that so?”
When his eyes meet mine, I suddenly wish there was enough light to see those baby blues peering up at me. Instead, I settle for his stubble poking at my skin.
Something about this man seems so familiar. Maybe it’s his tone. Or the masculine scent of his cologne. Maybe it’s just some weird connection because of his name. What it isn’t, is this face. I definitely wouldn’t have forgotten this face.
My thumbs trace over prickly hairs. “Even the man in the red suit deserves a Christmas gift, sometimes.”
On a growl, his lips find my neck once again.
“You...”
“...are”
“...torturing”
“...me.”
He pecks kisses on my skin between words.
Heat flushes the surface of my skin, and I drop my head back against the door, forcing my chest out, silently hoping he captures a nipple with that exploring mouth.
Instead, his hands trace down my sides until he finds the hem of my shirt, but instead of dragging it up, he goes lower and cups my pussy, rubbing my clit with the heel of his hand and teasing the hole with his fingers through the material.
I groan, reactively gripping his hair, and using it as a distraction to focus on something other than coming in his hand. “If you don’t stop...”
“Ah, the tables are turned now, aren’t they, sweetheart?”
When I open my mouth to respond, he takes advantage, covering mine with his, somehow knowing where and how to apply just the right amount of pressure. His fingers and tongue are strumming my body like a damn musical instrument.
A spark starts in my belly and spreads quickly through my body. No, not yet. I try to fight off the urge. It’s too soon, but any control I thought I had explodes into sparkling lights behind my eyelids. My legs clench around his waist and my back arches off the door.
“That’s it, baby. Come hard for me.”
And I do.
He’s relentless, working every last tremor from me.
I slide down between the door and his body like a used piece of putty, his erection rubbing against me as I go.
A twinge of guilt creeps into my chest. This euphoric state I’m in has me feeling lightheaded and a bit emotional.
He cups my cheeks between his hands, as if my concerns are written all over my face and he’s not affected one bit by not having his own. “Well, Miss Snow, that was—”
“Disappointing? I’m sorry you, we, didn’t...”
Leaning in, he places his mouth on mine, uttering, “Fucking hot,” against my lips before showing me just how hot he thought it was. Even though I’m participating, I can’t keep the fact that no one has ever said any part of me is hot from teasing the back of my mind.
When he breaks our connection, red-and-green holiday lights from a neighboring building shine through the crack in the curtains and highlight his face just enough. His hooded eyes tell me he’s not saying what he did to keep me from feeling bad about having one when he didn’t.
The evidence was certainly there.
Feeling a bit curious, I reach for him. He hisses out a breath when my hand glides along his impressive length. The reaction encourages me and I want to wrap my hands around it, make him feel as good as he did me, but when I reach for his belt, he captures my hand and stalls my attempt.
“We can save that for another time.”
Had I not still been reeling from the aftereffects of my own release; I might agree with him. But my body is still on fire and I want to repay the favor. Lowering myself to my knees, I peer up at him. “I don’t think I want to wait.”
He groans, tangling a fist in my hair and angling my head back. His hard stare meeting my more timid one. “You want my dick in your mouth? Is that what you want, baby girl?”
“Yes,” I whisper, a bit unsure if I still know how to give a good blowjob.
Shaking his head, he releases me, and takes a step back. For a brief moment I wonder if he’s read my mind, but that thought quickly evaporates into the cool dark air when he begins unbuckling his belt.
“Take off your shirt and bra. I want to feel those tits against my shins while I’m fucking your face.”
When I’d dragged him into my room it was with the assumption something would happen. Had I thought it would be him fucking me sans pants and panties, yes. Were there any intentions of taking my shirt off and exposing a part of me I know would send him running, no.
I glance around the room nervously, wondering if I should close the gap in the curtains so there’s less risk of him seeing more of it than he already has.
His belt drops to the floor, along with his pants and boxers. There’s enough space between us that it’s not smacking me in the face but also not enough for the dark room to keep me from asking myself how it possibly could have fit inside me.
A hand lowers into my line of sight and I drag my stare away from his cock, meeting his eyes with a raised brow.
“Take my hand, Holly,” he commands.
I do, though I’m a bit leery about what he has planned, especially when he leads me around the bed but doesn’t order me to climb on it. Instead, we stop in front of the window and he lets go of me, pushing the curtains open wide and flooding the room with the dreaded Christmas lights.
It’s a floor-to-ceiling window and he stands in front of it in a dress shirt, a tie, and a pair of socks. Not one ounce of concern his dick has parted the hem, and is right there for the whole world to see.
When he turns to face me, my heart nearly stops.
“No one can see in,” he confirms, taking a step toward me, mistakenly thinking people seeing in is what I’m worried about.
I take a step back. Shaking my head. “I can’t.”
“You can, Holly. It’s just you and me here. And I want to see what I can already tell are some fine tits.”
My stomach is nearly in my chest. Why, why would he make me do this? “Why can’t we just fuck like a normal old couple?” I ask, fumbling with my own button, hoping if I drop my pants too, it will change his mind. “You’re half dressed, I’ll get half dressed...”
He extends a hand. “We can do that after. I want you here.” He points to the floor. “Next to me.”
Toying with the hem of my own shirt, I nervously take a step toward him.
“That’s my girl. Just a little bit farther.”
He’s built, and could easily overtake me, but he doesn’t. He’s giving me the choice, and as much as I want to say no, I take another step.
I don’t know why a stupid mark bothers me so much. He’s already seen it, and although it did seem to surprise him, he didn’t go running like the chickenshit I am. Honestly, other than the bossy... You love that part, you know you do , he seems like a decent guy.
I take another step.
Our fingertips touch. He leans a little forward, getting a better grip and then pulls my back to his front. His warm breath teases my ear. “Maybe a little quicker next time.” He presses his erection against my lower back. “I’m not sure my cock can take much more waiting.”
I try twisting in his arms, fully prepared to let him do whatever he wants to my mouth.
“Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast.” He reaches for the hem of my shirt. “Arms up.”
I hesitate, but only briefly. From this angle he can’t see anything, plus I can always pull my hair to the side.
A bit reluctant, I lift my arms above my head, and he drags the shirt over my body, tossing it onto the bed. Not wasting any time, his large hands grip my decent-sized 38D’s and he pulls me against him.
“Just as I thought, perfect.” His mouth drops down to my shoulder and he places a trail of kisses on my skin until he makes it to the spot that gives me chills. Surprisingly, he’s been careful not to pay any attention to the opposite side.
Maybe he thinks it's recent or maybe he knows it makes me uncomfortable. Either way, I’m thankful I don’t need to think about it anymore than I already do.
At some point while lost in my own thoughts, his wandering hands have made it to my back and he’s unhooked my bra, but instead of pushing the straps down my arms, he comes up from underneath. Cupping, squeezing, and pinching my nipples, all the while grinding his hips against mine.
This man is not your everyday, off-the-street Santa. He’s some kind of professional who knows what the fuck he’s doing when it comes to a woman’s body. Maybe he’s a gynecologist. I quickly shake the thought from my head. I don’t need any other insecurities plaguing my mind.
He pinches a nipple again, drawing my attention back to him.
Working my bra down my arms, he allows it to drop to the floor before spinning me around. “All right, last chance, beautiful. We—”
I place a finger on his lips. “It’s my turn.” Dragging my hand farther he groans in torment, and I must say, I love it.
“Are you ready?” I ask, lowering myself to my knees, licking the tip on my way.
He fists my hair with both hands but remains still, letting me do what I want. Which starts with circling my tongue around the head, slowly and meticulously.
His fingers grip tighter.“Holly,” he growls.
A few more licks, and his grip is so tight it’s painful. But I don’t let up, because he’s getting his and I’m not stopping now.
I take him in as far as it will go, then drag my lips back down the length. Back and forth, slowly tasting and sucking.
His hips begin moving at a different pace and I can tell when he’s getting close. His hands flatten on both sides of my head, holding me still while he pumps in and out of my mouth.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” he groans and his body goes stiff. The warm cum pulsates down my throat with each throb. “You little bitch. Holy shit.”
When his movements have slowed and he pulls out, I peer up at him. Enjoying the satisfied look on his face, knowing I did that.
He runs a thumb over my bottom lip, then pushes it in my mouth. “You are quite the little slut, aren’t you?”
Any other time those words would be offensive, but coming from his lips, somehow it makes me feel proud. I release his thumb with a pop and take his hand in mine when offered. Pulling me against his chest, he wraps his arms around me. “We never did have that glass of champagne.”
I can’t help the giggle that escapes. “No, we didn’t.”