Very Merry Married (Kringle Family Christmas) - Page 37

“We went our separate ways and at my hotel I thought, there’s no way. No way this feeling is real. And then I saw you outside the steakhouse and not only was it real, it was stronger than it was before. It was deeper. Harder. Solid.”

“Ethan,” she moaned. I gathered her hair up in my hands, tilted her head back. She liked that. My control, the tiniest edge of something dark racing the pleasure.

“It was so easy after that, wasn’t it?”

“Wasn’t what?”

“Falling for you.”

She closed her eyes and surrendered against me.

“I don’t care that it was twenty-four hours and I don’t remember some of them. Because I remember the ones that matter. When I fell for you.” She was shaking her head, denying what I knew to be true. It didn’t matter how long we’d known each other. She was mine. I was hers.

I kissed her again before she could say anything. Holding her head still as I consumed her. Devoured her. It was open-mouthed and wild. And she grabbed my shoulders and clung to me.

She was tall and thin and made of muscle, and I swept her up in my arms, kissing her as I took her into my bedroom off the kitchen. It was dark except for the Christmas tree lit up in the corner of the room that threw a muted glow. I laid her down on the bed and she was gilded again, with red and green and clear bright white. Her eyes glimmered and her skin shone.

My Christmas Miracle.

“Take off your clothes,” she said, spreading her arms over her head. Her hair a gold spill over my dark duvet. I remembered this from that night, too. Not the sex or being in her bedroom, but her. Once the hesitation was gone, it was gone. And she was all in.

I grinned at her and reached behind my head to pull my sweater off.

“You,” I said. She wore the green shirt she’d worn when she arrived. All those little buttons marching down her chest to her flat stomach. She undid them slowly. One by one. The fabric fell open revealing her skin. The soft dents and curves of muscles. Her fucking unbelievable breasts.

“God damn, Lexie,” I breathed. “You are perfect.”

“Genetics and Pilates.”

“You,” I said and she rolled her eyes.

“For being so beautiful you have a hard time taking a compliment.”

She blinked at me, her face screwed as if she wanted to argue. “Only the ones I want to believe.”

Oh. God. Put a fork in me, I was done. Gonzo. This girl owned me.

Her bra was simple. No lace. No satin. Pretty pink cotton cradling her beautiful pink skin. She sat up, pulled the last of the shirt free and reached behind her to undo her bra. I stepped up to the bed and pushed her hands away. I undid the clasps and peeled the cotton from her skin. The bra fell forgotten at my feet. The whole world was forgotten at my feet.

“You’re perfect.”

She narrowed her eyes. “They’re fake.”

“They’re money well spent.”

That made her laugh and I put my hands against the mattress and leaned forward and kissed her again, pushing her slowly against the bed, my body following her down.

“You feel so good against me,” she said, wrapping her arms around my back, her hands splayed wide like she wanted to touch as much of me as she could. “So warm.”

Of course, she was cold. The striptease over I pulled the rest of our clothes off quickly, peeled back the duvet and climbed into bed with her, pulling the blankets up around her.

She purred and curled into me, her perfect tits against my chest, her leg slipping over mine. Her hips arching forward against my hard dick.

“Yes,” I breathed. Her hand slipped down between us, her palm pressing my dick through my underwear, her fingers wrapping around me over the cotton.

It was good. Electric. I felt her touch in my soul.

I eased my hand between her legs; the pink lace thong she wore was barely a barrier. My fingers traced a seam from her flat stomach down between her legs. She was so wet. So hot. She jerked as my finger slipped over her clit and so I did it again. And then again. Until the jerks were tiny pulses and the lace between her legs was soaked.

“More,” she breathed, her head thrown back.

I pushed her busy little hand away and got down to business. Slipping the thong down her body, over her toes and then, keeping the blanket over us and the cocoon of heat we’d created, I made my way down her body, too. I sucked her nipples into my mouth, licked her flat belly. Sucked the skin over her hip bones.

“Oh my god, why are you taking so long?” She laughed.

“Memorizing a body takes time, Lexie. You can’t rush this.”

Tags: Molly O'Keefe Romance
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