Mistletoe Kisses

Tonight, I'm going to have Callan McLaren all to myself. I want to know how it feels to be possessed by him, even if only for one night.

I let my lips open in a quiet moan, grinding my pussy against his now rock-hard cock. "You like that, Sir?"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'd stop doing that," he mutters, his fingers digging into my hip.

"I know exactly what's good for me." I struggle to free one hand from his grip, bracing it against his muscular chest as I rock my hips against his. "You like games, don’t you, Sir? Let's play a game."

He appears skeptical, but not uninterested as he studies my face. "What kind of game?"

I smile mischievously. "Let's see if you can resist me. It shouldn’t be hard, right? Since I’m such an inexperienced little girl, completely incapable of holding your attention? If you’re right and I can’t tempt you, I’ll be a good girl. I’ll settle in and go to sleep. If you can’t… well, then I won’t."

He cocks an eyebrow at my blatant challenge. "You think I can't resist you just because you’re nearly naked and grinding on my cock? You're underestimating me, sweetheart."

"We'll see."

I scoot back toward his thighs so I can hook my fingers in his boxer briefs. Meeting his gaze, I start to pull them down—painfully slowly.

"Noelle." My name coming from his lips holds a warning I refuse to heed. “We didn’t say anything about removing underwear.”

"Don’t worry, Sir. If I can’t tempt you nearly naked, I’m sure completely naked won’t make a difference…”

His cock springs free, and my eyes widen at the sight of him. He's thick and hard, swollen in all the right places. There's a vein throbbing along his impressive length and I lick my lips looking at him.

I want a taste.

"Is that the first cock you've seen, Noelle?" he asks gruffly.

I don't trust myself to speak, so I just nod and push my own panties down. I meet Cal’s heated gaze as I toss them off the bed, then I lower myself, still holding his gaze, until my mouth is hovering right over his aroused cock.

“What do you think of our game, Sir?”

“I think you must really enjoy losing,” he says dryly. “Do you have a touch of masochism hidden away in that peculiar mind of yours? Maybe you like when I’m a bastard. Maybe you like when I treat you like shit.”

I break his gaze and look back at his cock, licking my lips before gripping it in one shaky hand. “I don’t think I’m going to lose.”

“If you had any sense, you’d know you lost the moment you started playing with me. Either I crush you, or I fuck you—either outcome, I walk away the winner.”

He’s probably right, but I don’t mind that the odds are stacked in his favor. I don’t need him to walk away feeling like he lost—I just need him inside me, and I’ve earned it, dammit.

Intent on getting my way this time, I do a crazy thing: I lower my head and take the tip of his cock into my mouth. Cal groans, grabbing a chunk of my hair and fisting it tightly in his hand.

His voice is strained, like my lips wrapped around his cock is too much and he’s about to snap. “Jesus Christ, Noelle.”

Encouraged, I hold him tighter and take more of him into my mouth. I’ve never given head before so I’m not entirely sure I’m doing it right, but I wrap my tongue around him and suck. Another noise emanates from his throat—half groan, half growl.

I don’t know how much stimulation it takes to finish a man off, but I know I don’t want that, so once I feel I’ve adequately teased him, I pop off.

Cal’s grip on my hair loosens as his other hand digs into the bedding, like he’s equal parts relieved and frustrated.

“I love the taste of your cock, Sir,” I tell him sweetly.

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, looking down at me.

I nod my head.

"Do you think you’ll still like it after it hurts you?"

"Yes," I whisper, caressing him with shaky hands.