Chapter Eight
Cole
“Actually I have just the thing.” Noelle rises from the couch and I shamelessly watch her ass cheeks shake with every step into the kitchen. “You can take this off my hands.”
I can’t contain the level of excitement I feel when she procures a holiday themed gift basket full of goodies. Cherry cordials, snowballs, Christmas themed candies. And best of all, a kit for making cookies for Santa, complete with frosting supplies.
Looking forlornly at the gift basket, she tells me, “I entered a raffle at work hoping to earn an extra two days of vacation but I won this instead.”
Bypassing the treats altogether, I grab the cookie making kit from the basket and declare, “We’re making these.”
Without invitation, I march into her kitchen, open the fridge, and shout a victorious “A-ha” when I find a carton of eggs and a stick of butter to add to the mix. With all the ingredients accounted for, I start rummaging through her cabinets looking for bowls, spoons, and a baking sheet.
“It was meant to be,” I announce as I set her oven to the correct temperature to preheat. “You can’t be so anti-Christmas that you’ll turn down fresh baked cookies.”
Rolling her eyes at my holly-jolly spirit, Noelle saunters into the little kitchen and opens the cupboard above the fridge by standing on her tiptoes which reveals a selection of baking sheets, muffin trays, and other baking essentials.
The act of reaching that high just makes the little shorts she’s wearing ride higher to show the curve of her ass.
I’ve never been picky when it comes to boobs or ass, but Noelle’s is definitely making me an ass man.
I’m so focused on the perfectly round upside down heart shape of her rear end that I don’t notice she’s struggling to reach the baking sheets.
“Can you grab that?” Her request brings me back to reality.
Regretfully, I move my line of sight from her sexy backside to the cabinet and stride forward to assist. “What do you do when you’re home alone and need something from up here?”
With that sass I love so much, she replies, “I have a step ladder. But what’s the point when I have a big strong man here to help me.
” There’s fire in her eyes when they meet mine.
Since she’s the one who made the first move, I know she wants everything I want to give her.
But I’m having too much fun toying with her nerves.
Edging her, if you will, at least on a tame level.
I think Noelle can handle everything I have in mind for her, but maybe I should test the waters first.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask as she pours the powdered mix into a bowl. With absolute trust, Noelle hands it over to me unlocked. If things progress the way I want them to, that kind of blind trust will have to change. At least with everyone except me.
Scrolling through her apps, I locate Spotify and pick a generic Christmas playlist that begins with “All I want for Christmas (Is you)” by Mariah Carey to get us in the Christmas spirit.
“Oh god,” my little grinch mutters not-so-subtly.
“I’m determined to change your mind about Christmas,” I declare with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Good luck.” Another eye roll.
She’ll pay for those later.
The cookie mix is pretty straight forward, just combine the ingredients, roll the dough, and cut the shapes with the molds provided.
Once the array of sugary snowflakes, Christmas trees, and Christmas ornaments are laid out on the baking sheet, they’re popped in the oven to bake while we start mixing the frosting mix with water and food coloring.
“Do you mind if I clean my scalpel in your sink?” I retrieve the tool from my backpack without waiting for her response.
Rolling her eyes at me, Noelle replies, “I’ll add that to the list of things I never thought I would be asked.”
We work in comfortable silence to the tune of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” until Noelle says, “Alright, it’s my turn to ask a question.
” She speaks while scooping the thick frosting into the piping bag included in the kit.
“Why didn’t you just kill me when you realized the apartment wasn’t empty? Aren’t you afraid I’ll turn you in?”
“Not in the slightest.” She pauses her work to look up at me.
For someone who claims to hate Christmas, she’s been very meticulous about the cookie making process.
Dare I say, she might be having fun. Maybe I can turn this grinch into a Christmas loving freak afterall.
Or at the bare minimum, more tolerant. She hasn’t told me to turn the music off yet, which is a good sign.
“What makes you so sure?” As she twists off the last bag of frosting, I slink closer, leering down at the gorgeous woman standing so close I can smell her uniquely feminine scent mixing with the sugary frosting. It’s intoxicating, it alights every desire to claim her and mark her as mine.
I don’t think she’s ready for the answer yet, so I derail her train of thought back to my sole focus.
“Do you still want me to kiss you?” Though I repeat my question from earlier, her response is vastly different.
Her eyelids droop with desire, the slanted shape looking from my lips to my eyes again.
Her puffy lips part ever so slightly making me want to sink my cock between them.
Her breathing is so labored every breath makes her ample chest rise to meet mine, and all I can think about is wrapping my mouth around those peaked nipples while she moans beneath me.
God, I want to know what she sounds like when she comes.
So I think it’s time I find out.
“Yes.” Her breathy confirmation is all the permission I need.
Scooting the icing bags out of the way in a flash, I reach for her ass so fast she barely has time to react before I draw my hands down the backs of her thighs, parting her legs so I can lift her. Her gasp releases just as I plant her on the short part of the L shaped counter.
My voice drops an octave when I say, “Good. Cause I’m dying to taste you.”
In the next second, my mouth is on her and I finally get to feel those pillowy lips against mine, I finally get to taste her.
I finally get to feel her beneath my hands that palm her narrow waist before sliding back to grab her ass again.
Fuck, the feel of her full cheeks in my big hands is everything I imagined, fulfilling and perfect.
Capturing her bottom lip between my own, I devour her.
Noelle meets every kiss, every grind of my hips at the juncture of her spread thighs, with her own frenzied movements.
There’s nothing slow about the way we come together, it’s hot and frantic and desperate.
Because I am a desperate man. The moment I laid eyes on her, I wanted to consume her and claim her as mine.
Call it intuition but I knew she could match my brand of darkness. I knew she would understand me.
So I’m desperate to test my theories.
Greedy to taste all of her, I start trailing kisses down her slender neck, over her pronounced collarbone, brushing my hungry lips over the swell of her breasts. Even without a bra for support, they’re rounded at the top as if waiting for my touch.
My lips skim the neckline of her top. I have plans to go further but before I can, she demands, “Don’t you dare stop there.
” Her fingers run over my buzzed hair as I peer up at her through my lashes, rubbing my short beard over her baby-soft skin.
The desire to tease her, toy with her, is so strong.
But I’m too impatient to wait any longer.
Taking her mouth once more, I yank at the thin straps of her top, snapping them so the fabric gathers at her waist, exposing the most delicious nipples I’ve ever seen. At the feel of me destroying her clothing, Noelle gasps into my mouth where I capture her sounds as my own.
Fuck, if she sounds this good with just my mouth on hers, imagine how she’ll sound once my mouth is between her legs.
“You think you’re in control?” It’s a rhetorical question, we both know she’s pliable beneath my touch.
Just to prove a point, I fold her back so her back is flat against the counter, her head hanging off the side as I grab both her ruined top and the hem of her shorts in both hands before yanking them over her generous hips to expose all of her to me.
Well that escalated quickly.
Noelle in a cute little matching set was hot. But Noelle in absolutely nothing is debilitatingly erotic. Creamy smooth skin. Perfect curves that draw my attention to all the right places. Gazing upon her could cause a man to lose his mind.
For someone who was so bold moments ago, her eyes looking anywhere but at me tells me she’s not comfortable with her own nudity.
I can fix that.
“Eyes on me, beautiful.”
And damn if the weight of her gaze on me doesn’t send shivers down my spine.
Without breaking eye contact, I reach for one of the piping bags of frosting and grin when I retrieve the red one.
“I noticed you don’t have any tattoos,” I observe. “You’re a blank canvas.”
“What does that mean?” She asks in a tone that sounds like excitement masquerading as trepidation.
I lower the metal tip of the frosting bag to one of her hardened nipples and squeeze a little dollop out. Wordlessly, Noelle watches in fascination, eager to see what I’ll do next.
“It means,” I lower my head to her breast so she can feel my hot breath on her skin with every word.
“It means my mark is the only one you’ll wear.
” Then I flick my tongue out to clean the frosting off her nipple.
The moan that leaves her mouth is music to my ears.
But if she thinks this is heavenly, wait until I really get started.
Next, I squeeze a trail of frosting from between her breasts all the way down to her belly button. It’s an inny, how cute.
Starting from the bottom, I lick my way to the top, savoring the taste of her mixed with the sweet topping until I reach the valley between her tits.
Peering up at her, I see the anticipation written all over her face.
I see the thrill of doing things she’s never done before.
Of giving herself over to a man as dangerous as me.
I take my time leaving trails of icing that inch closer and closer to my final destination. Along her thighs, over her lower abdomen, every stroke of my tongue brings her closer to the edge. She’s practically quaking with need and I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.
I could drag this out longer but I think we’ve both waited long enough.
So with one final swirl of frosting to top that sweet spot in the center, I finally slide the pad of my tongue through her slit before wrapping my lips around the bead of icing and sucking her clit into my mouth.
The moment I do, Noelle’s back arches off the counter and one of her hands shoots to my shoulder, digging her nails into my shirt.
Her other hand pulls at the roots of her hair as she rides the pleasure I deliver.
I don’t stop, I can’t stop. I continue to stroke her clit with precise flicks of my tongue, throwing in some sporadic sucking to drive her wild.
“Cole,” she breathlessly groans. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
My name on her lips makes my already hard cock swell with need. Resisting the urge to plunge deep into her tight heat is a hurtle not easily overcome, but I do it anyway. Because I want to learn her body first. I want to learn her tells and understand what every noise and move she makes means.
If I never had to come up for air, I’d gladly move in between her legs.
I can hear how close she is in the unfinished sentences she’s spewing. “Cole…please…I’m so…oh my god.”
Ready to drive her toward oblivion, I shove two fingers into her slick cunt and thrust like my life depends on it.
The onslaught of sudden stimulation draws a noise from her that I can only describe as orgasmic as her hips buck off the counter to grind into my mouth, smearing herself all over my face.
Fuck, I love it. The way she’s giving herself over to the wild abandon of letting a stranger eat her out, I don’t think she’s ever given herself permission to feel this fully before.
“I’m gonna–You’re gonna–oh fuuuuck.” She practically screams as her orgasm crashes into her, eliciting whole body shakes as the pleasure rocks through her.
Thighs clamped on either side of my head, I slow the thrust of my fingers as I continue to eat her through her orgasm, feasting on her release that drips down my chin.
Listening to her enjoy every second of pleasure I wring out of her makes me feel like a teenage boy discovering dirty magazines for the first time. Mainly because of the jizz in my pants which hasn’t happened to me since I was probably thirteen.
But that’s how Noelle makes me feel: Alive. I’ve been coasting along waiting until this time of year when I get to do something worthwhile, not realizing I was missing someone who makes me feel this way.
Only once her breathing has slowed to a heavy but steady rate do I stop and rise to my full height, admiring the afterglow her release has created. She’s a work of art spread before me.
“You’re indescribably beautiful,” I tell her, because every woman deserves to hear it.
Before I can say anything else, the timer on the oven dings to tell us the cookies are done.
Pulling her to a sitting position, Noelle almost slumps into me as I hold her hand, staring into her angelic face.
“Frosting you was more fun,” I tell her, “but it’s time to give you a reason to like Christmas and decorate some cookies.”
The small, disbelieving, amused chuckle that leaves her makes my heart sing. So soft and genuine, I think she’s actually starting to come around to the idea of Christmas.
“Maybe I’ll be more into Christmas if that’s how I get to celebrate every year.”