Chapter 9
HOLLY
Felix was rather prepared for this damn Christmas tree shopping—he even pre-purchased ornaments in a color set that matches my living room. It’s thoughtful.
He’s thoughtful.
And it’s annoyingly not so annoying. I like it more than I care to admit.
As he wraps navy blue tinsel garland around the tree, adjusting each strand to sit just where he wants it, I ask, “Can you really turn people to stone?”
Over his shoulder, he shoots me a grin—one that makes my heart leap—before refocusing on the tree. “Yes, I can. When I was young, I may have turned my best friend to stone temporarily.”
I let out a little laugh, one that flows out much more easily than any before. The realization has the sound dying in my throat, and Felix glances over, his face flickering from that sexy smile for a split second.
Felix just makes it—laughing, smiling, all of it—feel so easy. His heart is made of gold, and his smile always radiates warmth.
I feel at home with him, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve felt this way with someone. Especially so quickly.
I’ll be damned if any of this has to do with the holidays, though.
It doesn’t.
The holidays don’t bring any extra joy or…anything. It’s just a coincidence that we met at this time, and that we’re having our little fling.
But that’s all it will be, a fling.
That’s what we agreed to, and that’s all I want. I mean, it can’t possibly be something else.
Open my heart to a man eleven years younger than me? Recipe for disaster and heartbreak.
I’m over heartbreak at this point in my life.
So, I’ll suffer through torturous holiday festivities while I get fucked by the sexy, snake-haired man, and when it ends? I’ll move on.
At least, that’s the plan.
“Holly?”
My name brings me back to reality, and I blink a few times.
Felix stands by the tree, holding an ornament in each hand, laughing as he says, “I said get over here and help me decorate.”
The soft demand makes me feel my heartbeat between my thighs. I grudgingly walk over, taking one of the ornaments from him.
Do I want to decorate this stupid tree? Not at all.
Do I want to be near Felix? Unfortunately, absolutely I do.
“It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this,” I remark, carefully hanging the ornament from a good branch.
He pokes me in the side, making me twitch from the ticklish sensation that shoots through me. “So, you have had a Christmas tree before. How long ago did you have your last one?”
“Is this some way of calling me old?” I narrow my eyes at him, hoping the accusation scares him off of the question.
With the shake of his head, he passes me another ornament. “Dollface, those words were nowhere near what I said. I’m just trying to get to know you more.”
Okay, deflecting his attention might be harder than expected. I thought men didn’t care about what’s beneath the surface.
Felix has already proven to be the exception, and damn, he’s pretty hardheaded too. Instead of backing down when I argue, he just…argues back.
But always respectfully?
I don’t understand it.
How is he so much younger, but so much more mature than any of the people I’ve dated before? Is it an act, one that will disappear if I surrender and admit some type of feelings?
“It’s been a few years since my last tree,” is all I tell him.
“What happened?” He presses, but it doesn’t feel invasive.
It feels right to answer him, to open up, but something stops me. My hatred for the holidays? My fear of being hurt?
“Things.” Instead of telling him the details, I offer up different information to hopefully deter him. “You know the only thing I like about the holidays?”
“You admit there is something you like about the holidays?” He laughs, moving toward the box of ornaments. “Please, do tell.”
Taking a deep breath, I force out the admittance—to him, and myself. “The festive meals at restaurants. The ones only around at this time of year.”
“They are good.”
I nod, crossing my arms as I stare at the single ornament I’ve hung. “They are, and they’re gatekept by this damned holiday season. They should be offered year-round.”
“But then they’ll lose their specialness.” His words are soft, but voice grows louder as he approaches me. “And the holidays bring special things and feelings every year. It’s part of the magic.”
I feel his presence behind me before his hand snakes around my waist. He reaches past me, pulling me against him as he hangs an ornament high on the tree.
My heart races, my skin is on fire, and all I want to do is turn around and jump his bones.
That’s not a bad idea, actually. Avoid any more holiday talk and get some? Win-win for me.
I turn, reaching up and wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. Pulling him down, I gently brush my lips against his.
With his free hand, he cups my face, pressing his lips firmly to mine. It only takes seconds for the kiss to deepen, his split tongue slithering between my lips.
The way his tongue can basically wrap around mine is a sensation only he can give me. Well, one I only want from him.
I know what that tongue can do for me…but he doesn’t know what mine can do for him.
My curiosity has been piqued since the moment I saw his two dicks. How does one give a double blow job?
We’re about to find out.
As I pull my lips from his, he lets out a sound of disapproval. Our eyes meet, and I hold his gaze as my hands travel to the zipper of his pants.
The zipper bulges against my palm, and slowly, I let my lips curve up into a smirk. I’ve barely touched him and he’s already this hard?
Unzipping it, I tease, “You want me to touch you, baby?”
“I absolutely do,” he says breathlessly.
As my fingers slide beneath his waistband, there’s instant fire as our skin connects. “One condition—no Christmas puns.”
His hand finds my jaw, cupping my face and tipping it up to look at him. His touch is always gentle, but dominant. A perfect combination.
“Just one pun, then done. Are you sure I’m happy to see you, and those aren’t just candy canes in my pants?” he asks, pressing his lips to mine before I can grumble.
I inhale deeply, memorizing the way his lips feel against mine. Fuck it, I’ll roll with his dumb puns. I have been anyway.
Breaking the kiss, I wriggle my eyebrows at him. “I should probably check—they feel too big to be candy canes.”
Lowering myself, I pull down his pants and boxers. His dicks spring forward, and my heart beats a little faster.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to blow someone before. For Felix though, the sweetheart who hasn’t budged from my side, no matter how, well, grumpy I am?
I’m eager.
No, downright hungry.
I toss my curls over my shoulder, leaning closer to him. Starting at the base, I drag my tongue up the shaft of one of his cocks, slowly pumping the other with my hand.
He lets out a shaky groan, his fingers slipping into my hair. I swirl my tongue around his tip before taking as much of him into my mouth as I can.
As I bob my head, I jerk my hand in rhythm on his other cock. My free hand slides up his thigh until I reach his balls.
“Holly,” he moans as I begin to fondle them. His snakes hiss in unison, long and low, in what I swear sounds like excitement.
Hearing his enjoyment only makes me suck him harder. When his dick throbs in my mouth, I create a tight suction and pull off.
The whimper he lets out is delicious, and I look up at him as I switch to his other manhood. His citrine eyes seem darker than normal, and I feel the gaze of his snakes on me too.
I do exactly what I did before, slowly teasing him with my tongue along his shaft until I reach the tip. His fingers tighten in my hair as I take my time.
His shaky chuckle sends butterflies through my veins, and I take him into my mouth. I swirly my tongue around him, bobbing again. Switching hands, I jerk his pulsing member and get back to work teasing his balls.
His fingers graze my scalp as he tightens his grip. “You are a goddess.”
I feel his dicks throbbing, and the way he pulls on my hair ever so slightly tells me he’s close. There’s one issue though—I didn’t consider that both his cocks are going to come at once.
There’s no way I can fit both in my mouth.
“Holly,” he simply warns, releasing a moan that sounds like it came from the depths of his soul.
I suck hard as I pull off of him, taking a deep breath. Quickly replacing my mouth with my hand, I stroke his dicks in unison.
Tipping my chin up as I meet his eyes, I instruct him, “Come on my face.”
I mean, it’s really the only option…and I want him to, more than I care to admit.
“Are…you sure?” He barely gets the words out between his shaky breaths, fighting to remain in control of his body.
Nodding ever so slightly, I encourage him by dragging my tongue over my upper lip slowly. “Just do what you’re told, baby.”
There’s no hesitation this time, and I have to quickly close my eyes as both his cocks spurt toward my face.
When he’s done, I slowly open my eyes as much as I can. He’s staring down at me, a look on his face that I haven’t seen before.
Maybe this was the best orgasm of his life, or something.
“As beautiful as you look covered in me, let’s get you cleaned up, dollface. Stay there and I’ll be right back to take care of you,” he says sweetly, quickly turning and walking off.
Waiting on my knees, a long-forgotten feeling fills me. A warmth in my chest—in my heart—that roots itself deep, intertwining with my soul.
And all I can think is…uh-oh.