Page 66 of The Holidate Switch

“Freckle? That’s what you’re starting with?” I thread my fingers through his hair, euphoria coursing through every ounce of me. Until I let Cole in, I never knew it was possible to be this happy, this safe, with someone else.

“Hush woman. These are not in any order.”

“Don’t tell me to hush.” I feign offense and it earns me a bite on my neck. “Naughty!”

“Yes.” I feel the devilish smile against my skin. “Always for you.” He grabs my chin and brings my mouth to his, capturing it with a searing kiss. Since the bond crashed over both of us, winks of cocky Cole returned. After five years, he’s deliciously insufferable sometimes.

His hand slowly traces the curves of my body with a featherlight graze. Shivers grip my spine and I deepen our kiss, the urge to be closer, to be one, overwhelming me, just as it does every time we’re together like this.

He reaches below my skirt, this time going where I need him, slipping a finger over my bud and rubbing small circles there. Tension pulls in my stomach, soft still, but pleasurable. I need more.

“How are you doing, Mrs. Sinclair?” he asks, pulling away from our kiss and nudging my chin away with his nose.

“Good,” I manage, my lungs squeezing. “Really fucking good.”

He kisses my ear, grazing his teeth until he captures my earlobe with a teasing bite.

He rests there, listening to my breathing, as he changes the tempo of his finger, fast, fast, slow, slow, fast. He works me until I’m begging for him to give me more. I need more. And when I’m begging, he pulls away, leaving me with nothing.

I turn into him, wrapping my leg around him, desperate to at least feel his hard cock against my entrance. He presses my back against the bed and grabs my breast, sucking my nipple through the mesh. I gasp at the sensation and he mirrors it on my other breast, rubbing my hard pebbles with his thumb. “God, my wife has nice tits,” he says. With every hushed “my wife” I melt more and more into him. Hungry, my fingers pry under the waistband of his briefs and I go to drag them down.

He tsks. “Be a good girl for me and wait or I’ll have to make you.” He grabs my hands and pins them over my head with onehand, while he uses the other to move down the length of my body. After five years of playing professional hockey Cole’s filled out his broad frame, and he’s uses his new strength to his, and my, advantage. It’s not fair.

I fucking love it.

Inch by inch he travels, having his way with me. And inch by inch I’m powerless to the torture.

“Being a good girl blows,” I whine.

“Don’t worry, that’s where I’m headed.” He tucks his head under my skirt and lashes a powerful stroke over my bud with his tongue. I flinch. He does it again. And again.

Tight. Tight. Tight. The tension coils deep inside until I’m not sure I can take another punishing stroke from him. He brings his fingers up to my mouth.

“Suck on them.” He orders, and I comply through ragged breaths.

He stretches me, filling me first with one finger, and then a second, finding the spot that sends ripples of ecstasy coursing through the rest of me. Pump by pump I get closer and closer, until I can’t hold back, I’m shaking, wrapping tight around him, and he gives me one final pump, one final lash of the tongue, and I scream, not just tipped over the edge, but plunged, falling from some cliff, so so high. Until I shatter, hitting the ground.

He captures my mouth with his, taking my moans on the come down, teasing and tugging on my lip with his teeth.

I reach again for his boxer briefs, and this time he lets me slowly drag them down. I grab his cock in my hand, pumping up and down. He groans, putting his head against mine. “I want to last.”

“Well, that’s inconvenient. I want to drive you crazy and watch you unravel in the palm of my hand.”

“Natalie.”

“I prefer ‘my wife,’ thank you very much.”

“As you wish but?—”

I tease him, slowly bringing his tip to the slickness in my seam. He breathes through it, before losing control on top of me, and plunging deep inside. The action is so quick, so absolutely feral it causes me to lose it too. We become nothing more than possessed, tangled limbs in the sheets, as Cole slides, in, out, frenzied, carnal, needy. Hitting that spot again. I wrap my legs around his. Claw my nails into his back. Becoming one, just like our souls did so many years ago now. He thrusts harder, until he’s a shaking, writhing mess, and I’m right there with him, riding through his climax with one of my own. We come down together, and he presses his head to mine, breath still ragged, bodies still entwined.

“My fucking wife,” he says. “Have I ever told you that you’re absolutely everything?”