Chapter Four #2
"Absolutely." She stepped down from the chair, still holding the mistletoe. "The bedroom was seriously lacking in festive atmosphere."
I raised an eyebrow. "And you're the authority on appropriate levels of holiday spirit?"
"The Christmas Queen," she reminded me, gesturing to herself with a flourish that was both ridiculous and somehow endearing. "Royal decree and all that."
I tried to maintain my scowl, but something about her—her unapologetic enthusiasm, the way she faced down my grumpiness with stubborn cheer—tugged at the corners of my mouth.
She noticed. "Oh my God, was that almost a smile? On the Grinch himself?"
"Careful," I warned, though there was no heat in it.
She stepped closer, mistletoe still in hand. "Admit it. I'm wearing you down with my Christmas magic."
"Is that what you call it?"
"What would you call it?" Her eyes locked with mine, her gaze direct and challenging.
The playful mood shifted in an instant. The air between us charged like the moment before lightning strikes. She was close enough that I could smell the scent of my soap on her skin, could see the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
"I'd call it reckless," I said, my voice dropping lower than intended.
"What is?" She moved even closer.
"This." I gestured between us. "Whatever you're doing."
"I'm just spreading seasonal cheer." But her voice had dropped to a near whisper, and her eyes kept darting to my mouth.
"Is that all?"
She held up the mistletoe between us. "Maybe I'm conducting an experiment."
"On what?"
"How much holiday spirit it takes to break through that stoic discipline of yours." Her lips curved in a smile that was pure temptation. "I'm guessing... about this much."
She stretched up on her toes, holding the mistletoe above our heads.
Something inside me snapped like a trip wire.
I closed the distance between us in one step, my hand sliding behind her neck as I kissed her with everything I'd been holding back.
She made a small, surprised sound that quickly turned into a sigh as I backed her against the wall, pinning her there with my body. The sprig fell forgotten to the floor as her arms wound around my neck, pulling me closer.
This wasn't the gentle exploration our near-kiss by the fire might have been. This was hunger, unleashed after building tension. I kissed her like a drowning man finding air, my hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips.
"Pax," she gasped when we broke for breath, her eyes wide and dark with desire.
I should stop. Should step back, apologize, restore the careful distance I'd maintained. But then her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me back to her, and all thoughts of restraint vanished.
"Last chance to stop this," I murmured against her lips.
In answer, she nipped at my bottom lip, then soothed the sting with her tongue. "The only thing I want stopped is all this talking."
Permission granted, I lifted her, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist as I carried her to the bed. Her weight was nothing against my strength, yet she anchored me to the moment in a way I hadn't felt in years.
I laid her down on the mattress, pausing to look at her—hair spread across my pillows, cheeks flushed, lips already swollen from my kisses. The sight hit me like a blow to the chest.
"You're staring," she said, a hint of self-consciousness in her voice.
"You're beautiful." The words escaped without permission.
Her blush deepened, but she held my gaze. "So are you. Now come here."
I followed her down, bracing on my forearms as I kissed her again. Her hands slid under my shirt, exploring the scars and ridges of my back, my shoulders, with curious fingers. I trailed kisses along her jaw to the sensitive spot below her ear, drawing a shiver from her.
"Too many clothes," she murmured, tugging at my henley.
I sat back on my heels, pulling the shirt over my head. She stared at my chest, her pupils dilating as her teeth sank into her lower lip—a simple gesture that had me hardening instantly.
"Your turn," I said, voice rough with desire.
She sat up, crossing her arms to grasp the hem of her borrowed shirt.
The movement exposed a strip of pale skin above her pants, and I forced myself to be patient, to let her set the pace.
Then the flannel was gone, and she was kneeling before me in a simple white bra, her creamy skin dusted with freckles that continued past her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts.
"God, Pepper," I breathed, reaching out to trace the path of freckles along her shoulder.
She shivered at my touch, leaning into it. "Cold hands," she said with a small smile.
"I'll warm them up," I promised, pulling her closer.
This kiss was slower, deeper, a gradual building of heat rather than the explosion of before. I unhooked her bra, drawing the straps down her arms. When she was bare from the waist up, I pulled back to look at her again.
Her breasts were perfect—full with blue veins visible beneath translucent skin, crowned by petal-pink nipples that tightened under my gaze. I cupped one breast in my palm, watching her face as I brushed my thumb across the tight peak.
She arched into my touch, a soft sound escaping her lips. "Don't tease."
"Not teasing," I murmured, lowering my head to replace my thumb with my mouth. "Taking my time."
I circled her nipple with my tongue, then drew it into my mouth, pulling a gasp from her. Her hands found my hair, holding me to her as I moved from one breast to the other. When I grazed my teeth lightly against the sensitive peak, her hips bucked against mine.
I could feel her heat through our remaining clothes, her arousal making me throb in response. I slid a hand between us, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants.
She was already wet, ready for me. I stroked her through the damp fabric, watching her face as pleasure washed over it.
"Pax, please," she whimpered, hips rocking against my hand. "I need—"
"Tell me what you need," I urged, my voice barely recognizable.
"You. Inside me. Now."
The desperate want in her voice nearly undid me. I tugged at the pants, and she lifted her hips to help me slide them down, taking her panties with them. Then she was naked beneath me, all creamy skin and freckled curves, her auburn hair spread like fire against my dark sheets.
I stood to remove my own jeans, aware of her gaze tracking my movements. When I was down to my boxers, her eyes dipped to the obvious bulge there, and she licked her lips in a gesture that sent heat pooling low in my belly.
"Come here," she said, reaching for me.
Instead, I knelt at the edge of the bed, drawing her toward me until her legs dangled over the side. She propped herself up on her elbows, confusion in her eyes until I pushed her thighs apart and settled between them.
"Oh," she breathed, understanding dawning.
I looked up the length of her body as I pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. "I want to taste you first."
Her pupils widened so much her eyes looked nearly black. "God, yes," she breathed. "Very, very yes."
I grinned, then lowered my head to her center. The first swipe of my tongue made her gasp and fall back against the mattress. She was already so wet, so ready. I took my time exploring her, learning what made her moan, what made her thighs tremble against my shoulders.
When I found her clit, I circled it with my tongue, then sucked gently. Her reaction was immediate—a sharp cry, her back arching off the bed. I slid one finger inside her, then a second, curling them to find that spot that would drive her wild.
"Oh God, Pax, yes, right there," she babbled, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Don't stop, please don't stop—"
I had no intention of stopping. I kept up the rhythm, my tongue working her clit as my fingers pumped into her, curling to hit that perfect spot with each thrust. Her thighs began to shake, her breathing turning to sharp pants as she climbed higher.
"I'm close," she warned, one hand moving to tangle in my hair. "I'm going to—"
I sucked harder on her clit, pressing my fingers deep, and she shattered. Her back bowed, her body clenching around my fingers as she cried out my name. I worked her through it, easing off only when her trembling subsided.
Before she could fully recover, I rose and shed my boxers, then moved up her body to kiss her again. She sighed against my mouth, her hands sliding down my back to grip my ass.
Her small hand wrapped around my cock, stroking slowly. The sensation was almost too much after so long without a woman's touch.
I positioned myself at her entrance, looking into her eyes as I slowly pushed inside. The feeling was indescribable, and I had to pause halfway to keep from losing control.
"You okay?" I asked, voice strained.
She nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. "More than okay. Don't hold back."
I buried myself to the hilt with one smooth thrust, and we both groaned at the sensation. I held still, letting her adjust to my size, letting myself adjust to the overwhelming feeling of being inside her.
Then she rolled her hips, and all thought ceased.
I began to move, setting a rhythm that had her gasping with each thrust. Her legs wrapped around my waist, changing the angle so I hit even deeper. Her nails scored my back, little pinpricks of pain that only heightened my pleasure.
"Harder," she urged, meeting each thrust with her own. "I won't break."
I growled low in my throat, increasing my pace, driving into her with abandon. The headboard knocked against the wall, the bed creaking beneath us, but I was beyond caring about anything except the woman beneath me, the way she tightened around me, the sounds she made as I took her.
I felt her starting to tense again, her inner walls fluttering around me. I slid a hand between us, finding her clit with my thumb and circling it in time with my thrusts.
"Come for me again," I commanded, feeling my own release building. "I want to feel you come around me."