Page 32 of The Mistletoe


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“You’ve got a good point.” He grasps the fastening of my jeans and rips it open, sliding his hand inside my panties. His fingers slide over my swollen, slippery seam, diving and testing my response to him.

“Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

“You’ve gotten so good at dirty talk.” He grabs the back of my head, yanking me down to him, and slams my lips over his. His tongue thrusts in and out of my mouth with the same rhythm as his fingers.

My breath puffs out in ragged gasps as I no longer fight what he’s doing to me. Each swipe inside of my hole elicits a moan around his tongue. Stars build behind my eyes until I convulse over his fingers. “Yessss.”

How does he do that so fast? My head spins as bliss settles over me, weighing my limbs down. He removes his hand and boosts me up. “Let’s go home.”

“Not so fast.” I flip around, dragging my jeans down my legs, and kick them off into a pile on the floor.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“Please.” I turn back around and clasp the button on his jeans. “I want your cock buried deep inside of me. I want you to lose control.”

“Shit.” He shakes his head and stares at me with wonder. “I haven’t been in control since the first day I saw you.” He jerks the fastening open the rest of the way and clutches his erection in one hand.

“I want this so bad.” I’m burning up inside. Being with him has unleashed a part of myself I’ve hidden and been afraid of experiencing. The part that takes what she wants–with confidence.

I hover over his cock and slide down until I’m surrounding him. The wetness of my sex readily accepts him, allowing him to fill me to perfection. I rotate my hips, relishing the bite of his zipper on the back of my thighs, taking in all of him.

So good. I throw my head back in ecstasy as the sounds of our gasping and slapping of bodies fills the small space. The windows are covered in fog, enveloping us in our own private cocoon.

For several minutes, he lets me experiment, finding the right rhythm and pressure until he snaps. “I. Can’t. Hold. Back,” he says each word with an upward lunge and a growl.

“Yes.” I spread my thighs wide and tilt my pelvis toward him. Each lash of my tight muscles sends sparkles across my vision.

“Your pussy is so tight. I can’t stop.”

“Oh. God.” I grip his upper arms and fly with his movements, up and down like a ragdoll.

“I can’t stop.” His intensity increases as he batters into me. Pressure and pleasure build.

“Don’t stop.” I repeatedly slam my sex onto him and beg for release. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, with a raspy voice. “I’m going to come.”

“God, yes!” I scream and clamp down hard on his dick, refusing to let him go as he struggles to move inside of me. The walls of my sex clench and convulse as I suck him deeper, keeping him where I want him.

He grips my face, and tongue fucks my mouth as his dick pulsates inside of me. We stay this way until every shudder disappears.

Minutes later, he pulls back. “Wow. That was….”

“Phenomenal.” I shudder one last time and collapse on top of him.

“Yeah.” The back of his head hits the headrest. “I can’t move.”

“You poor thing,” I mumble against the column of his neck. “I wasn’t done with you yet.”

“You’re done with me for the next thirty minutes,” he says with great effort to get the words out.

“Spoilsport.” I chuckle. “I’ve discovered telling people off is an aphrodisiac. Where does Madyson live?”

“Down, kitten. Down.” His chest rises and falls in laughter as he lifts me up and stares into my eyes. “Really?”

“What?”

“Telling people off turns you on?”

“Yes.” I shrug. Is that a bad thing?

“I’m just as turned on watching you tell someone off. And the crazy sex afterward was incredible.”

“Is it wrong?”

“Not at all. Who else pissed you off in high school?” He bites his bottom lip. “Damn, I’m getting hard again.”

I lick my lips. “Add public sex to it, and I’m on board.”

“You were on a board.” He winks and lifts me, zipping his jeans. “Let’s go home and talk about those mean girls from high school.”

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