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Only Christmas

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“Our children.” He opens one of the doors in the hallway. “Already worrying over our children. It’s how I know you’ll make a good mother.” He moves me through the open door. I’m so lost in what he’s saying that I don’t realize we’ve arrived at the bathroom.

I’m expecting him to wait outside for me, but instead, he guides me through the door, shutting and locking it behind us.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a lot.”

My heart sinks. He’s probably right. Here we are married and now at this party with his friends and family. Or maybe it’s just family. Now I’m talking about children. This might be the thing to jerk him back to reality to see how nuts this all is.

“I’m sorry,” I find myself saying. My mind starts to race with thoughts that this is all over. We've gone too far now.

“You should be. I’m fucking dying here.” He grips my hips, lifting me up off my feet.

“Hunter?” He sets me down on the counter in the bathroom. He pushes up my skirt before he pulls my thighs apart to step between them. One small jerk and he pulls me to the edge of the counter. I’m not sure if it’s the cold countertop that sends goosebumps throughout my body or what he’s doing to me.

“You don’t feel it?” He grinds his cock against my sex. “I didn’t know blue balls were a thing. I thought I had myself under control. I always do. Then you go talking about me knocking you up, and I almost come in my slacks. I have no self-control when it comes to you.”

“Oh,” I breathe out, understanding what he meant now.

“I want to eat your pussy again. I need it more than I need my next breath. Let me make you come.” How it comes out like a plea and a demand I have no idea, but it does.

“Hunter!” Heat blooms throughout my face.

“Thought you enjoyed me being direct,” he teases me. “Also thought you loved having my mouth on you.” The throb between my thighs begs me to allow him to do exactly what he’s asking.

“You can do anything you want to me, Hunter. I am your wife, after all.” Something about that admission turns me on way more than it probably should.

The idea of Hunter about to take me when and how he wants fills me with so much desire. I know it’s only because I know how good he is with my body. That he also has this need to take care of me too. I know whatever he does will be so damn good.

“Fuck me.” He groans, leaning down. I think he’s about to kiss me, but he buries his face in my neck. “Can’t say shit like that to me with dozens of people this close.”

“So you’re not going to eat me?” I whisper, feeling a bit less shy with his face in my neck. It also helps that I feel damn sexy right now. What woman wouldn't? I gave my husband blue balls because he wants me so badly. Guessing that’s another thing I should add to my list of things that shouldn’t turn me on but do.

“Angel.” He nips my neck, making a moan slip past my lips. “And that’s why. You’re not quiet when you come, and no one is hearing those sounds but me.” I dig my fingers into the front of his buttoned-up shirt. Am I loud? I hadn’t been paying attention before. It’s hard to think of anything really when Hunter’s mouth is on me.

“I don’t want that either,” I admit as I tug on his shirt, easily pulling it out of his slacks. I go for his belt next.

“Angel.” His warm breath tickles my neck.

“I can make it better.” I want that so badly. I know how much it hurts when I get really turned on with him. I don’t want him to have that ache. I need to fix it for him. He doesn’t stop me when I go for the button on his pants next. It pops easily. When I slip my hand down into his pants, he lifts his head.

“You make everything better. You know that?” My hand pauses. I think that might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me before.

“I didn’t know that.” When I brush my fingers across his cock, it jerks. Hunter’s whole body stiffens.

“I don’t know how you didn’t. Hell, I don’t know how someone didn’t get to you before I did.” Every word he speaks makes me more confident in what I’m doing. I wrap my hand around his cock, enjoying the way it feels.

The skin is softer than I thought it would be. It jerks again in my hand. I push away the trace of fear I get wondering how he’s ever going to fit inside of me. It had been a bit of a fight for him to get his fingers into me, but I know it will have to work. There is no way I’m not going to have sex with my husband. I find myself wanting that connection with him more than anything.


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