The Magical Christmas Cat (Breeds 12.5)

Then her gaze lifted to his, and she was caught, snared, trapped within the heated black depths of his eyes. There, emotion swirled. Love, tenderness, sometimes confusion, and through it all was pos-sessiveness.

Her back arched as he moved inside her. Slow, easy strokes, stretching her internal muscles, burning them, raking across tender nerve endings with exquisite pleasure.

His hands slid from her hips to her breasts, stroking them, playing with her nipples as they watched each

other, loved each other.

Haley curled her arms behind her, held on to his neck and tilted her head, baring her shoulder. She knew what he needed when he looked at her like that. When the pleasure was growing between them like a ravening hunger, tearing at their senses, at their control.

"Haley." He groaned her name, his head dipping, his tongue stroking over the small mark at her shoulder. His tongue laved it, his lips caressed it.

His strokes inside her became harder, deeper, the slap of flesh, the earth moans that filled the bathroom gaining in volume until Haley felt herself come alive in his arms.

This wasn't a little death, as the French called it. It was life. It exploded within her. It lit her senses with a rainbow hue of colors to rival the brightest Christmas tree and filled her with an ecstasy that she knew she could no longer live without.

It completed her.

And when the barb locked him to her, and his release spilled into her, it finished that completion in a round of fireworks that she knew even the Fourth of July couldn't compare to.

When she could see again, when she could think again, it was to watch his head lift from her shoulder, to see his face relaxed and infused with pleasure.

Merry Christmas, Noble," she whispered, touching his cheek, their gazes meeting in the mirror once more.

"Merry Christmas, Haley," he whispered back. "And thank you."

"For what?"

"For being the most precious present a breed could ever receive."

"Merry Christmas, Noble," she whispered, touching his cheek, their gazes meeting in the mirror once more.

"Merry Christmas, Haley," he whispered back. "And thank you."

"For what?"

"For being the most precious present a breed could ever receive."