Chapter 37 #3
Reaching under the tree, I yank out what I know is Waffles’s new cat bed.
“Hand me that spray bottle please, Dove.” She grips the spray bottle next to us, and I quickly spray the liquid catnip onto the gift.
The moment I do, the large fluff ball comes running.
He leaps onto the wrapped-up bed, kicking and biting at it until there are shreds of paper covering the floor.
“He’ll be at that for a while. Merry Christmas, Dove.
” I hand her the small gift bag and watch as she opens her gift.
“Open yours too,” she says, not stopping as she pulls out the black velvet box. My heart beats loudly in my ears as I wait to see her reaction.
Opening the box, her eyes go wide as she takes in the intricately cut diamond earrings and matching tennis bracelet. She gazes at me with glassy eyes. “Clint, these are beautiful.”
“Would you put them on, baby?” She nods her head quickly as she takes them out of the box and slides the earrings in. I help her with her bracelet, and then it’s my turn. I unwrap the box like a child on, well, Christmas morning, and open the box. “You got me a Retrolife record player.”
“For here.” She tilts her head, and somehow my heart races. “I wanted you to be able to play your records here too. I figured it would look perfect on the console table over there.” Her eyes pointedly glance to the table she recently cleared off by the entrance of the hallway.
“You’re perfect.” Leaning toward her, I slide my hand to the back of her neck and pull her into me, capturing her lips with mine. “You are absolutely fucking perfect.”
A loud meow pulls us out of our moment. Looking over I find Waffles tangled in shreds of wrapping paper as he nuzzles into his new bed. “Is that a stick of butter?” Paloma laughs from behind me.
“Yeah, and it warms. What goes best with Waffles? Butter.” She throws her head back and laughs.
“It’s hilarious, and it seems like he already loves it.
Come on, let’s go make some waffles.” Standing, she walks toward the kitchen, and I smirk.
I’ll be getting a taste of her before I bite into a waffle this morning.
Her plump ass sways under the robe, and I consider for a moment stealing her away to ravage her, but first I need to get these sleep shorts off so she can see my boxer briefs.
“Are you coming or am I—” She doesn’t finish her sentence when she sees me. Her eyes track down my body, heat staining her cheeks as her eyes go lower. Her tongue peeks out, tipping up to her top lip as she holds back her grin. “Mistletoe?”
She notices the mistletoe printed across my dick and says, “I guess we had the same idea.” When she completely removes her robe, I can see she’s wrapped in bright red lingerie.
It’s tied in a bow across her breasts, holding them together while hiding her rosy brown nipples.
Her breasts spill out of the top and bottom, and my mouth waters as I take in the matching panties with ribbons tied at her hips.
“Fuck, Dove,” I groan as I approach her, slipping my fingers into the garter wrapped around her thick thigh.
I grab a handful where her thighs and ass meet, pressing her into the counter.
Sweeping my tongue over her collarbone, I trail my other hand up her body until I wrap my fingers around her neck and coax her lips open.
“You taste so fucking good.” I loop my arm under her thigh and lift her, placing her on the counter as I rest one of her thighs over my shoulder and spread the other.
“I need to taste you, Dove. All I crave is you.”
Sliding her already soaked satin panties to the side, I lick into her heat and moan at how her flavor tastes on my tongue. “Already so wet for me.” I sink my fingers into her fleshy hip to get deeper, fucking her pussy with my tongue as I circle the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Oh shit,” she moans and arches her back, pressing her soft lower belly into me, and it makes my already-hard dick ache. “Please, Clint, I want to come with you inside me.”
“Give me one, baby. Let me drink you in first.” Pressing my thumb to her clit, I open her wider with my fingers and suck on her lips before flicking my tongue over her oversensitive center. “Grind your pussy on my tongue, baby. Come for me.”
When she begins to circle her hips, I suck on her clit as I slide two fingers into her.
Her walls close around my fingers, pulsing as she works her way up to the release her body needs.
Paloma screams out her climax, and the moment she does, I stand and groan as I thrust into her soaking pussy.
Her gasp is music to my ears as I pump into her.
Leaning back, I stroke into her tightness as I unwrap the bow keeping her breasts from me.
“You are the only thing I ever want to unwrap. Every Christmas morning, this”—thrust—“is how I plan to spend our morning.” I piston into her, losing my rhythm as my own release gets closer.
I fondle one of her breasts before I pinch her nipple and almost pull out fully before I slowly fill her again and again and again until her moans are the only thing I can hear.
Her Christmas present on her wrist dangles and shakes back and forth as I pound into her, glittering from the reflection of light. “So perfect, so fucking perfect.”
“I’m so close. Fuck. Please.” Paloma’s words rush out as if she isn’t sure what she’s saying, and it’s exactly how I want her.
Drunk on me, just like I am for her. Lost in everything she is.
My girl’s mouth falls open in an O, even as her body becomes more pliant.
She watches our joining, and I can’t take my eyes off her.
Not when she writhes beneath me, finding her release, as I thrust into her one final time, shouting her name as I do.
With her legs still wrapped around me, I pull her into my arms and kiss her temple. “I love you, Paloma.”
“I love you, Clinton.” She cups my face and gazes at me through her lashes. She’s gorgeous. Her cheeks tinted pink and lips swollen, her curls askew. There is nowhere I would rather be than right here with her, for the rest of my life.