Page 53 of Cakewalk

“No rushing tonight, sweetheart,” he told her, his voice rough with desire. “Tonight, I’m going to make love to you like you’ve never experienced before.”

Another shiver ran through her body. This was already more intense than anything else she’d experienced, and he’d barely touched her. How could it get any more erotic?

A heartbeat later, he answered her unspoken question, dipping his hand into her sex and slowly stroking her. She let out a whimper, trying to keep quiet and not disturb anyone else in the house, but the more and more he played with her, the harder it became. Up and down her folds he went, each time missing the bundle of nerves calling his name by such a small margin that she knew it was calculated on his part. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her senses were on overload. He knew every inch of her and was playing her like a violin. Just when she thought she was going to burst, he slipped two fingers inside her while simultaneously finding her clit with his thumb. Grabbing onto the bedspread and arching her back, she opened her mouth to react, but her moan was captured by Holden’s mouth crashing against hers. Everything about what he was doing was driving her crazy. She could feel her orgasm starting to build as he kissed her furiously, his hand never letting up on its pursuit. Shifting slightly, Holden adjusted the angle of his wrist, finding a new spot inside her. That was all she needed.

A moment later, fireworks seemed to burst from underneath her skin as her climax took over. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, causing her to almost cry out again. She had no idea what it was—the holiday, the thrill of knowing that his parents were down the hall, or all the new, next-level feelings they were starting to admit to each other—but this wasn’t like all the other amazing orgasms Holden had given her. This one was different. There was more power to it, like it had been building inside her for years, just waiting for the right time to surface.

When she finally came down from her newfound high, she was greeted with another set of long, drawn-out kisses from Holden. They had done this in what had seemed like every way possible, yet somehow, he still had tricks up his sleeve.

“You are exquisite, Gigi,” he said, placing his forehead against hers. “I hope you know that. I hope you know how special you are. Not only to me, but in general. Because you are so fucking special.”

“So are you, Holden,” she said, fighting back tears. She had no idea what she had done to deserve him, but she was so incredibly thankful nonetheless. He’d taken so many years of her feeling worthless, like she was nothing but a screwup, and made them all disappear in weeks. “Make love to me, please.”

Without another word, he wrapped his arm around her, and rolled them over so he was lying on his back. Taking his cue, she straddled him, placing herself right at the tip of his dick. Slowly, she lowered herself down on him, taking him in, inch by glorious inch. She could feel herself adjust to his size, enjoying the moment. He felt so good inside her, like nothing else she’d ever felt. Following his pace from earlier, she leisurely moved her hips, finding a simple rhythm, drawing out the moment. Holden moved his hips underneath her, his movements complementing hers. Neither of them was in a hurry, wanting to feel and experience everything this moment had to give them. He reached up, cupping her breasts in his big hands, playing with the taut peaks of her nipples. A soft, barely audible whimper escaped from her. Everything he was doing to her was magic. He made her feel so beautiful, like she was the only woman on the planet.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Holden sat up, never disconnecting their bodies. Placing his forehead against hers, he drew in a deep breath, holding it for a moment, before letting it go as if he were trying to inhale the moment. Gigi could hear their hearts beating in time with one another’s, falling in sync with their breathing. Clutching onto him harder, she felt tears start to sting her eyes. She had no idea where they were coming from, or what exactly she was feeling, but it was so overwhelming that she couldn’t stop them from falling. She wanted to tell him how she felt—wanted to use those three little words that she thought she’d never say again. But she didn’t want him to think it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

“Forget Christmas, you’re the best gift I’ve ever been given. Period,” he said, breaking the silence. She could hear the truth in his words and feel it in his touch as he started rocking them back and forth, giving them the friction both their bodies were craving. His thrusts were deliberate and unhurried, full of passion and meaning. She heard everything he was telling her with his body loud and clear.

Gigi could feel another orgasm start to build inside her. If he kept up these movements, hitting her in all the right spots, she knew she wouldn’t last long.

“Holden…”

“Come with me, sweetheart. I want to be holding you when you fall apart.”

His words were enough to push her over the edge. Her whole body shook, the powerful climax taking over her, sending her even higher than she was before. Holden pulled her impossibly closer, still thrusting, in search of his own release. A few more strokes and he found it, letting out a muffled groan.

They stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other, letting the sounds of their heartbeats drown everything out again, before climbing under the covers. Gigi instinctively snuggled into Holden as if they’d been sleeping this way their whole life. Her entire body was exhausted from their lovemaking, but there was still one thing she needed to say.

“Merry Christmas, Holden,” she whispered into the darkness.

“Merry Christmas, Gigi.”

23

Gigi

The warmth of the sun shining in from the window next to the bed felt good on Gigi’s face as she slowly drifted awake. Reaching over for Holden, she was startled a little to not find him there. Had he gone to the bathroom? She looked over to the bedside clock—seven fifty-five.

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” she muttered out loud.

She had planned to be up early, wanting to make sure she had breakfast ready for the family as each one wandered downstairs. At least the sticky buns just needed to be put into the oven. But where was Holden? Why hadn’t he woken her up?

She pranced around in a tizzy, trying to find a pair of sweats or something—anything other than the clothes she’d been wearing last night—to put on to head downstairs. But there was nothing but her discarded outfit. All her clothing was in her room, down the hall. Finally settling on a pair of Holden’s sweatpants and an old T-shirt, she hoped that she had cinched the pants tight enough that they wouldn’t fall down. At least if they did, the shirt she was wearing was long enough that she was more than covered.

The moment she opened the door, the sound of laughter wafted up the stairs. She could hear the rumble of Holden’s voice chiding his godfather about something he’d said, as Heathcliff and Catherine egged them both on. Her heart sank, the realization hitting her that she was the last one awake, and they were all downstairs without the yummy breakfast she had planned on serving. Rushing down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her, she got her foot caught in the too-long pants, nearly causing her to slip on the last stair and faceplant into the hardwood floor.

“Whoa,” Holden said, rushing over to catch her as she tried to steady herself with the railing. “Today is not the day to try new stunts. What’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?”

“I overslept! I don’t know where my phone is, so I didn’t hear my alarm, and so now breakfast is going to be late…” she rambled, feeling the rush of anxiety start to grow within her.

Holden reached into his back pocket and produced her phone, holding it up and waving it in front of her. “You didn’t oversleep. You slept in. There is a difference, I promise. You deserve a quiet, relaxed Christmas morning. I already took care of breakfast.”

Gigi looked over to the rest of the family, who was sitting around the tree, sticky buns in front of them and coffee cups in hand. Her insides warmed as she took in the scene, armed with the knowledge of what Holden had done. For what felt like the millionth time, she wondered what she had done to deserve him and said the biggest silent thank you she could.

“You spoil me,” she said.

“I told you, it’s not spoiling you to give you what you deserve.”