Chapter Twelve #2
I trail the candy cane along my lips, grinding against him just enough to feel the shudder that runs through him.
“Fuck, Tess,” he mutters. He tips his head back, jaw tight, eyes squeezed shut like he’s fighting for control. “You’re gonna kill me. We gotta keep it down before someone hears.”
“I can’t help it,” I whisper, waiting until his gaze drops back to mine. I flick my tongue over the candy cane, bite my lip, and smile. “Maybe I like the thought of your brother asleep in the next room. He has no idea what I plan to do to you.”
His brows lift, disbelief flickering before something darker takes over.
“Maybe I want to be caught,” I whisper, rolling my hips again.
Clay’s grip tightens, and in one quick move, he flips me onto my back.
A devilish smile curves his mouth as he pins me beneath him, the tables turned.
My chest seizes when he reaches up, grabs the string of lights hanging over the headboard, and tugs it loose.
The clips pop free, scattering across the room, the bulbs still glowing faintly between us.
He takes the candy cane from my hand and sets it on the nightstand, careful not to let the sticky end touch the wood. His voice drops, rough and commanding.
“Hands above your head, Tessa.”
My breath stutters. When I don’t move, his smirk deepens.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growls. “Because if I have to, my brother won’t need to guess what’s going on in here. He’ll hear every swat of your ass and every moan you make.”
The glint in his eyes tells me he knows he’s got me. As much as I want to keep pushing, I’m not ready for this to end. So I do what he says, slowly lifting my hands above my head.
Clay takes the string of lights and winds them around my wrists until I can’t move.
He smiles down at me, the kind of slow, dangerous smile that makes my pulse jump. His lips brush mine before he pushes the robe aside, his gaze dragging over me like he’s seeing me for the first time.
The lace dips low between my breasts. I know he can feel the way I’m trembling and hear the wild beat of my heart. He trails kisses along my chin and down my neck, each one slower than the last until I forget how to breathe.
He slides down my body, spreading my thighs open, and doesn’t hide the way his eyes rake over me. It’s as if he’s memorizing every inch.
With my legs pinned around his hips, Clay runs his finger along my aching center and groans. “You’re so fucking wet, you’re practically dripping.”
I lift my hips, desperate for him to give me more as a slow grin curves his mouth.
“Now all of this is for me.”
He glances at the nightstand, and I suck in a sharp breath when he reaches over and swipes the candy cane, brushing it over my lips.
“Open for me, baby,” he orders.
His nostrils flare as he watches me suck the tip into my mouth before he pulls away, moving back down until he’s positioned between my thighs.
My mouth drops open when he takes his turn, sucking the candy cane into his mouth as he moves the lace covering my pussy to the side and brushes his fingers through my wet folds. His large, calloused finger sends a shiver down my spine.
I gasp his name and moan when he replaces his finger with the candy cane, brushing the end through my folds until he positions it at my entrance.
“Mmm,” he hums. “I think I’m starting to get in the Christmas spirit now, Tess.”
I roll my eyes closed, and he chuckles.
“Who would’ve thought all it took was a peppermint candy cane and your sweet pussy to get rid of the Scrooge in me?”
“Clay,” I exhale heavily. “Please.”
“Please, what?” He smirks.
He slides down farther until his face is pressed between my legs. I barely have time to overthink the fact that Clay Barlowe’s mouth is mere inches away from my pussy before he swipes his tongue through my folds and groans.
“Jesus, fuck baby.” He hums, pulling away, replacing his mouth with the candy cane.
This time, when he slips the tip inside me, my eyes roll back, and heat warms my cheeks at the thought of Clay fucking me with the candy cane.
“Oh God,” I moan, my body trembling. Before I even realize it’s happening, my release rolls through me, causing my back to bow.
Clay replaces the candy cane with his fingers, hooking them just right to extend the pleasure coursing through me until I slump against the bed.
The candy cane crashes as he tosses it onto the nightstand again, has my eyes snap open, taking in the sight of him pushing his sweats over his hips until his dick springs free.
He wraps his large hand around his hard length, making my mouth water at the sight.
I can see the moment he realizes he doesn’t have any more condoms, and a flash of disappointment flickers on his face.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. I’m on birth control anyway. I trust you.”
If I had thought about saying this before this very moment, I probably wouldn’t have had the courage, but it’s the desperation for him that takes over.
It must be enough for him, though, because he kicks his pants the rest of the way off and climbs onto the bed between my legs.
Clay grips my thighs, moving them until they’re pinned against my chest. He brushes the thick head of his dick through my folds before slapping it against my clit.
The wet smacking sound causes my core to clench, and I groan. “Fuck me. Please. I need it. I need to feel you.”
“If only our families knew how dirty sweet little Tessa is. Say it again. I want to hear you beg for me.”
I can’t help the way my body trembles again, and it has nothing to do with the cold temperatures.
My eyes flick down to where Clay’s hand continues to grip his dick, brushing his thumb over the tip.
“Say it again.” His nostrils flare. “I want to hear sweet Tessa beg for my cock before I dirty her up.”
“Please, Clay.” I wiggle beneath him, and his eyes drop to my pussy and the way I clench for him. “Please fuck me. Dirty me up and ruin me for anyone else.”
He pushes the tip of his dick inside me, and he squeezes his eyes shut.
“God damn, you’re so fucking tight. So damn wet. It’s me who’s gonna be ruined after this.”
“Yes, do it. Ruin me. Give me everything you have.”
His hips are like a rubber band, and they snap all too quickly, thrusting deep inside me until he bottoms out.
A low moan escapes my lips, and Clay reaches between us, pushing two fingers into my mouth to try to muffle the sound.
I hum at the salty taste of my orgasm from a few minutes ago on his skin. When Clay realizes what he’s done, it’s like the thought unleashes an animal as he pulls out and quickly thrusts back in.
His hips piston into me with such force that the bed starts to groan and the headboard thumps against the wall, but neither of us seems to care anymore.
The thought of what we’re doing, of us being caught, is like a tipping point, so when Clay pulls his fingers from my mouth and uses the wetness to brush over my clit, it sets me off like a ticking time bomb.
When I clench around him, he throws his head back and grits his teeth, trying to keep it down as his release slams into him.
He leans over me, breath unsteady, until the rush between us finally fades. The soft glow from the string lights flickers across my skin, catching on the faint marks where they’d wrapped around my wrists.
Clay’s fingers move gently, unwinding them one loop at a time, the quiet clink of bulbs the only sound between us. When the last strand falls away, he tosses it aside and drops onto the bed beside me.
I shift closer without thinking, my head finding his shoulder, his arm slipping easily around my waist. The warmth of his skin seeps into mine, anchoring me in a way nothing else can.
I should move. I should create some space.
But I don’t. I just stay there, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat calm mine.
The room is quiet, except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the soft rustle of our breath as we sleep. Shadows spin lazily across the ceiling, and I stare up at them, trying to take in everything about this moment—about him.
Because this isn’t about one night. It never was. It’s him. It’s always been Clay. The way he looks at me like I’m something he shouldn’t want but can’t stay away from. The way he makes everything feel more alive.
And that’s what scares me most. Because if he ever saw how deep this runs, how long I’ve felt it, there wouldn’t be a way back for either of us.
So I stay still, tucked against his chest, pretending I’m not falling harder with every quiet breath he takes.