Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas. Leslie Kelly
the prime example of man.
When his hands touched her waist and began yanking her sweater up, Lucy arched toward him. She heard his low groan when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra, and even in the near-darkness, could see the look of pure appreciation as he visually devoured her.
Lucy had been built a little differently six years ago. She’d been more girlish, more lean. Now she was curvier, carrying an extra ten pounds in all the right places…places he obviously liked. A lot.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he muttered. Then he bent to her breast, no warning, no hint, his mouth landing on her nipple and sucking hard. As if he couldn’t help himself, had to quench his ravenous thirst with the taste of her.
“Oh, yes, please,” she groaned.
She sunk her fingers into his hair, pressing him even harder, needing to feel it, deep down. And with every deep pull of his mouth, she did feel it. All the way down to the throbbing center of sensation between her thighs.
He leaned over to give her other breast the same attention. Plumping it with his hand, he rolled her nipple between his fingertips before he blew lightly, then suckled her. Lucy cried out at how good it felt. Savoring his attention, she kissed his neck, his shoulder, raking her nails down his bare back, wondering how he could possibly be so strong when He appeared to now be a suit-and-tie kind of guy.
She wanted to cry when he moved his mouth away again. But she got with the program when he kissed his way down her midriff to the waistband of her jeans, which he quickly unfastened. He backed away, kneeling on the edge of the bed and straightening her legs. Lucy lifted her hips, arching up toward him, helping as he tugged the denim away.
Thank God she’d been in too much of a hurry to put on long johns or something equally as hideous before she’d left home. Her pink panties weren’t Frederick’s of Hollywood worthy, but they were cute and sexy. And Ross seemed to like them. A lot.
Or maybe not. Because without a word, he ripped them off her, tearing the fabric. She didn’t give a damn. The hunger in his every movement excited her beyond anything.
“Gotta taste you, Luce.”
She had a second to prepare, then his mouth was on her, licking at her core. She actually shrieked, shocked by the raw intimacy. He didn’t carefully sample her, he dove deep, thrusting his tongue into her opening, then up to her clit, then back again. She was whimpering, her hips bucking freely, helpless to do anything but take what he wanted to give. Her first orgasm smashed into her like an earthquake, making her whole body quiver. He didn’t stop, merely holding her hips in his big hands, continuing to lick at her as if he couldn’t get enough.
Then came the aftershocks—the tsunami—wave after wave of hot, electric delight, popping in little explosions that made her head spin. Colors, instruments, spinning lights—a whole freaking carnival seemed to be taking place all around her, all calliope music and the thrill of spinning and riding until you were breathless and just couldn’t take anymore.
She couldn’t take anymore.
“Stop,” she ordered dazedly, knowing she’d reached that point. Pleasure overload. She could barely breathe, her heart was pounding hard enough to burst out of her chest, and she was almost hyperventilating from all the gasping.
Mostly she was stunned. Shocked.
Awakened.
They hadn’t had a lot of time together six years ago, and oral sex was one intimacy they hadn’t shared. She’d been young, a virgin, and he’d been tender and incredibly patient. She suspected that if Ross had ever used his mouth on her like that, she would have stalked him to Chicago.
Now, she wanted him to feel that same unadulterated freedom. Wanted to give him what she’d never given him before. Not just to please him, but also to make him as absolutely crazy as he had made her.
More, though, she wanted that intimacy for her own sake. She’d never viewed oral sex as anything more than foreplay, a tit for tat return on a guy’s earlier tongue investment. This time, though, she wanted to take that thick ridge of male heat into her mouth and explore the flavors of his body. Wanted to taste him, explore him, suck his cock until his willpower gave out, or his legs did.
She scooted away, grabbing his hair and pushing him up. He eyed her from between her legs, his eyes glittering, his mouth moist. “You taste good,” he growled.
Licking her lips, she murmured, “I bet you do, too.”
Sitting up, she became the aggressor, stalking him to the end of the bed, until he hopped off it. Eyeing her hungrily, he said nothing as she scooted to the edge, parting her thighs around his legs.
She was eye level with that wonderful, thick ridge straining against his zipper. Though she felt just as desperate to tear his clothes away, she hesitated, holding her breath. For that moment, she felt like she was about to open a Christmas present—just one, on Christmas Eve, the way she always had as a kid. The excitement of choosing the right one, and the certainty that there would be so many more good things to come all washed over her.
Catching her lip between her teeth, she unbuttoned his jeans, then eased the zipper down. He hissed as her hands brushed against the cotton of his boxer-briefs. Burying his hands in her hair, he held her tightly, not painfully, yet more forceful than she’d ever expect from him. It felt possessive. Demanding. Unlike the tender Ross she’d known, but perfect for the hungry man who’d eaten her like he’d been served his last meal.
Pushing the jeans and briefs down, she took a second to admire his cock—strong, erect and powerful. Lucy moistened her lips, then leaned forward and kissed the tip of it, hearing him groan as skin met skin.
That groan egged her on. She parted her lips, taking him into her mouth, swirling her tongue over and over. She swallowed the hint of moisture his body released, liking the salty taste, wanting a mouthful of it. She didn’t worry that taking him to the edge would cut into what she wanted from him later. Ross was young and vital, and right now he looked like he could easily do her all night long, take a coffee break, then get right back in there and bang her brains out another half-dozen times.
Her thighs clenched, moisture dripping from her sex, still swollen, maybe even a little sore, from the thorough attention of his mouth.
She gave him the same attention, sucking hard. He swayed a little, which she took as a good sign. So she took more of him, deeper into her mouth, until she could take no more. Reaching between his legs, she carefully cupped the taut sacs, timing each stroke of her hand with one of her mouth, pulling away, then sucking him deep, over and over.
His groans deepened. The pace quickened. She knew by the tenseness of those powerful muscles that he was close.
He stopped. “Uh-uh. I’ve waited six years. No way am I coming in your mouth.”
Pulling back, he reached into his pocket and grabbed a condom. As he hurriedly donned it, she considered telling him she had the birth control covered. But she figured they should err on the safe side when they were being so impulsive, so crazy.
Ross shoved his pants completely off, then reached for her. Lucy let him lift her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He held her easily, her bottom cupped in his hands, then backed her against the wall, bracing her between it and his chest.
She sunk her fingers into his hair, tugging his mouth to hers for a deep kiss. He plunged his tongue deep…then did the same thing with his cock.
Oh, yes.
He didn’t move at first, just stood holding her there, impaled on him. She felt her body soften and adjust, taking him completely. Savoring the fullness, she rocked against him, signaling him that he didn’t need to go slow.
She didn’t want him to go slow.
“Next time,” he promised.
“Whatever,” she panted
Then there were no words. Just hard thrusts of his body into hers. Deeper and deeper, he reached