The Virgin's Guardian - Page 13

“Ohmigod,” I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair. My pussy fluttered and clenched, trying to pull his tongue deeper. He groaned against me, and the vibrations made my climax go on and on. He didn’t let up, spurred on by my moans and whimpers. He lapped and nibbled at my throbbing clit until I quickened again, two fingers pushing inside me. Thrusting. Stroking. Making me sensitive, it was all I could do to not thrash against the invasion.

“No more,” I cried out, my head tossing from side to side. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he insisted. “And you will because you need to so I can fit inside your tight pussy.”

I nodded my head weakly, knowing he was right and wanting to feel him inside me like that so much.

“That’s my girl,” he breathed against my wet skin. His fingers twisted and turned, opening me for him. He hit a particularly sensitive spot, and my hips raised up as another orgasm pulsed through my body, just as devastating as the one before it.

He lifted up, his hands urgent as he yanked me down to the center of the bed. I was pinned underneath him, his forearms on either side of me. His eyes were so dark, they looked almost midnight blue. His cheeks were flushed red and his chin was wet—from me. From the second orgasm he’d thrust upon me to make sure I was ready for this. For him. And I was. Beyond ready.

“Jacob, please. Take me. I need you.”

“Holly,” he rasped out my name as he lined his hard length up with my opening and…

“Noooo,” I whimpered, dragged from my dream just as I was getting to the good part. There was a pounding noise at the door, and it must have been what had woken me up. A quick glance out the front window showed the sun was starting to rise and snow was steadily falling. I groaned when my eyes darted to the clock on the wall. Even the prospect of a white Christmas wouldn’t save Harley from my wrath at eight o’clock in the morning.

“I’m going to kill her,” I grumbled, marching to the door. There was only one person I knew who would have the nerve to pull me from my bed—well, my couch really, since I’d stumbled downstairs in the middle of the night to crash there since I wasn’t having a restful night—and being my best friend wasn’t going to save her from waking me up right when I was finally going to dream about what it felt like to have Jacob sink deep inside me. Even after hundreds of dreams about him, I’d never managed to reach that point, and I was pissed to have it stolen away from me. Being a virgin in both real life and my dream life sucked.

Flinging the door open, I opened my mouth to start my tirade at Harley, but it wasn’t her I found standing there and a startled yelp slipped from my lips instead. It was the only sound I was capable of making since I was stunned silent. Wondering if I was still dreaming, I pinched myself. The sting of pain was welcome because it meant this wasn’t a dream… it was Christmas morning and Jacob Marley was standing on my doorstep.

He was several inches taller than the last time I’d seen him, at least six feet tall now. His body was still all lean, sinewy muscles. His blond hair was a shade or two darker, his eyes the exact same bright blue I recalled. He smiled and sexy dimples dug deep into his cheeks. He was my Jacob, only better. Maybe holiday wishes really did come true after all.

Chapter 3

Jacob

Holly Lane.

The girl of my dreams, both literally and figuratively.

I was finally standing in front of her after the longest three years, three months, and three days of my life.

When my dad got a new job and we moved to Oregon, it tore me up to leave Holly. But, I’d only had a year left of high school, so I figured I would move back to Connecticut after graduation. My senior year was hectic with academics and sports. So much so, that we didn’t have much time to reconnect and by the end of the year, we had drifted completely apart. The irony was, I had kept busy so I couldn’t dwell too much on missing her.

I was offered a scholarship to Princeton and one of my first thoughts was the very close proximity to Holly. The thing was, while I was starting my freshman year of college, Holly still had two years of high school left. Even as close as I would be, it would be far enough that dating me would eat up her time. I knew she would put me first, and that meant missing out on all the activities and time with friends that make high school fun.

On top of that, I was entering into an intense program that would allow me to graduate within three years, instead of four. I’d taken credits my senior year that had given me the opportunity to test out of some of my GenEds, but it was still going to be grueling work to get all of my coursework done in the timeframe I wanted. What kind of relationship would we have if I had no time for her? I risked hurting her and pushing her away, permanently damaging us.

In the end, I’d decided that we both needed to focus on our own paths for a time. If either or both of us moved on, then we weren’t meant to be. Though, I didn’t see that happening in my future. No woman had ever been worth a second glance since the moment I first laid eyes on Holly. I’d decided that when she graduated, if we were both still single, I’d take it as a sign and finally claim her as mine permanently.

I studied hard to finish my degree early and it kept my mind occupied. For the most part. I still dreamt of her often, reliving the short time we had together. Dating anyone else never even crossed my mind. Holly was my first girlfriend, my first kiss, my first everything, and every day it became more clear that she would also be my last. Finally, two years were up and I’d been completely convinced that there would never be anyone but Holly for me, and vice versa.

There were a lot of things to set in place before I could go to her. First and foremost, I’d called Janet, her mom, and asked for her help, as well as her permission to marry Holly. To my surprise, she’d shrieked in delight and gushed over how happy it made her that we would be together. Apparently, she had hoped for all those years that we would reconnect because she had seen something special between us.

We’d even cooked up excuses for her to cancel coming to visit Holly for Christmas so that I could be alone with her. The weather had been a stroke of luck.

I’d paced my hotel room for most of the night, anxious for Christmas morning to arrive. When the clock read seven thirty in the morning, I couldn’t wait any longer. I’d loaded my car, making sure the special items I’d brought were easily accessible, then drove to the woman who held my heart in her hands.

Fat, white snowflakes had been drifting down, forcing me to drive slower, particularly since the plows hadn’t been by yet. Holly would be loving it, though, and that thought alone brought a smile to my face and an appreciation for the scenery, rather than being frustrated at the crawling pace I’d had to keep.

At last, I’d pulled into the driveway of a cute, white, bungalow house. It was decked out in garlands and lights, the lawn sporting a life size, jolly Santa in his sleigh and all of his reindeer. I couldn’t help chuckling. Holly always lamented at how much her mother loved Christmas but the truth was, Holly adored the holiday too.

I’d zipped up my coat and wound a scarf around my neck before opening my door. Crystals of snow dusted my hair and shoulders in seconds, and I’d jogged around to the trunk knowing I’d be soaking wet in minutes if I didn’t hurry.

Shifting things around, I’d finally spied the gold rope of the bag I was looking for. I’d pulled out the swath of red velvet and checked to make sure it wasn’t missing anything. After closing the trunk, I’d rushed carefully up the path to the front door, which thankfully, had an awning.

For a couple of minutes, I had simply stood there and took deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Anticipation got the best of me and I’d knocked firmly on the door.

Now, I was staring at a vision, even more perfect than any of my dreams or memories. Holly was adorably mussed, clearly having just woken up. Her shoulder length, chocolatey-brown hair was a little wild and when she’d opened the door, her matching brown eyes were heavy lidded but spitting fire. Then she’d seen me and they’d widened with

shock as her plump, pink lips opened from her jaw dropping. That mouth had been the star of many, many fantasies. I shifted the bag in front of me strategically.

Tags: Fiona Davenport Erotic
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