Chapter 15 #2
“Hazel,” he groans into my mouth, voice rough, needy. One of his hands tangles in my hair, tilting my head back; the other skims down my side until he grips my waist, pulling me flush against him. My hips brush his, and I feel the hard line of his arousal. My knees go weak.
“Goddess,” I whisper, shivering when his lips trail hot kisses down my jaw to the tender hollow beneath my ear. “You… you can’t just…”
“Can’t what?” he murmurs against my skin, breath scorching. “Can’t want you?” His teeth graze the spot where my pulse pounds. “Too late for that.”
His other hand slides under the hem of my sweater, hot and rough against the bare skin of my back, fingertips tracing the dip of my spine. The contrast of his calloused hand and my yielding body sets fire to every nerve ending.
“You’re so warm,” he rasps. His teeth graze my earlobe, wicked and unhurried. “So soft.” The hunger threaded through his tone is more intoxicating than wine, and my nipples tighten, aching for his touch—for more.
I shudder, pressing closer, letting him feel just how undone I am—how much I want this. Want him.
In one quick movement, he pulls the sweater over my head, letting it fall in a puddle on the floor. I moan, hands threading through his hair as Benjamin trails hot kisses down my collarbone and over the swell of my breasts, his other hand fumbling with the back of my bra.
A throat clears from the doorway. I move to jump back, but Benjamin straightens to his full height, pulling me firmly against his body, shielding me from view.
“What do you want, Nathan?” he growls, without even turning to see who stands there. My body feels too hot, too tight. I want to throw myself outside into a snowbank.
“Well, I’d hate to break up… you showing Hazel around the house, but Mom wanted to know if the two of you wanted to decorate Christmas cookies.”
“Mom wants us to decorate Christmas cookies? Right now? Like when we were kids? We haven’t done that in years,” Benjamin says, deadpan. I bury my face in his pine-scented flannel as my body shakes with silent laugher.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Nathan replies, and I can imagine him throwing his arms up in mock surrender.
“If you don’t get out of my room—”
“This isn’t your room,” Nathan quips matter-of-factly, and Benjamin tenses.
“Nathan. Shut the door and get out of this room now, if you value your life,” Benjamin warns. He doesn’t let me go until the door closes and Nathan’s footsteps retreat down the hallway.
I scoop my sweater from the floor and start to tug it over my head when Benjamin’s hand shoots out, wrapping around both my wrists in one firm grip.
“I’m not done with you,” he rumbles, backing me up until my spine collides with one of the bed’s carved wooden posts. He pins my arms high above my head, his body caging mine in place.
“But the cookies…” My protest is weak at best—breathless—my pulse racing as I tug against his hold.
“They can wait,” he says, voice rough. His free hand tugs my sweater away again, baring me to his gaze before he lowers his head and flicks a nipple with his tongue. Heat jolts through me, stealing my breath.
“Unless you don’t want this?” he murmurs, pausing.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice breaking on the word. My thighs press together in a futile attempt to soothe the throbbing ache building between them. “I want this. I want you.”
“Good.” His lips curl into a wicked smile. “Because I want you too.”
His hand slides beneath my skirt, fingers tracing lazy circles over the thin cotton of my panties—right where I’m already wet for him.
My back arches, offering more, needing more, as his mouth closes around my breast. He alternates between sucking and kissing, his tongue teasing me into madness while his thumb strokes over that sensitive bundle of nerves with devastating precision.
I moan, hips rolling against his touch, my body frantic for release. Every flick of his tongue, every press of his thumb winds me tighter, higher, until the pleasure bursts through me in a shattering rush—wild and uncontrollable, like a thousand snowflakes caught in a storm.
He releases my wrists just in time to catch me as my body sags against him, limp and humming with aftershocks. My head lolls against his shoulder as I try to remember how to breathe.
A sudden chill brushes my overheated skin. I blink my eyes open, dazed, only to find the window flung wide. Hundreds of glittering snowflakes float inside the room, suspended midair as if frozen by magic.
“Oh.” My lips part in awe. “That’s never happened before.”
Benjamin chuckles low in his chest, brushing a fingertip along a drifting flake. It dissolves instantly against his skin. He looks back at me, grinning like a man possessed.
“I can’t wait to see what happens when I really make you come.”
My gaze drops to the straining bulge in his jeans, hunger surging hot and sharp through me. I reach for him, desperate to return the favor, but he catches my wrist again, smirking as he scoops my sweater off the floor where it’s fallen for the second time.
“Not yet, sugarplum,” he murmurs, pressing the sweater back into my hands. “We’ve got time. But if we don’t get you downstairs soon…” His lips brush mine, teasing. “I wouldn’t put it past Mom to send Gran to come find us.”