“What is that you’re wearing?” I ask as I let my pants drop to the floor.
The widening eyes and the gasp, as she gets a preview of what I’ve got, is so satisfying, but I keep my boxer briefs on. She’s going to have to wait to see the goods.
She smooths down the front of that dress, clearing her throat. “It’s a wrap dress.”
“That’s the kind of dress my granny wears,” I say as I close the distance between us. Because I can’t go one more second without touching her. “How do you look hot in this?” I trace the edge of the deep V neckline with my fingertip, from her collarbone, all the way down. She shivers, and that is also satisfying.
“I look even hotter out of it.” She says it like it’s a dare. As if I didn’t already have big plans for getting her out of it. As if I’m not constantly picturing her naked, no matter what she’s wearing.
“Devil woman.” I graze my palms across her hard nipples as I reach down to grip the sides of her dress, kissing her once, and then pull the thing off over her head in one swift motion. And God damn. God. Damn. She does look even hotter out of it.
That fucking black lacy bra. Those fucking black lace panties under those fucking see-through tights. All that smooth skin. All those evil curves. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but I want to stick a rose stem in her mouth and then paint and sculpt her. I want to write a cheesy love song about those spectacular tits.
“Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you actually going to do something interesting for a change?”
That fucking mouth.
There’s that hint of Staten Island again.
I back her up two steps, to the dresser, so she has something to grab on to because she’ll need it. I get a good grip on the waistband of her tights and rip those fuckers apart as I drop to my knees before her. Satisfying doesn’t even begin to describe how it feels when they actually come apart, tearing down the middle and along the insides of her creamy white thighs.
“Was that really necessary?” she asks—her voice, everything trembling.
“No. But it was fucking awesome.”
Merry fucking Christmas to me!
I squeeze her ass and blow warm breath over her clit through the lace. Her arousal is evident, even before I touch her between her legs. She squeezes her thighs together so tight. I will never be able to torment her as thoroughly as she has tormented me for two months, but I will have a jolly old Saint Nick of a time trying. With the pad of one thumb, I massage her clit in small, firm circles, and she is so wet for me I could cry.
She’s whimpering, trembling harder now, trying to keep it together. But I know what the anticipation is doing to her. I know what it’s doing to me. And I know exactly how much longer I can go without being inside her, and it’s not very long.
I push the black lacy triangle of her panties to the side, and fuck me under the mistletoe, she’s shaved bare as the North Pole and this is the best Christmas present anyone has ever given me.
“You are a devious, wonderful woman.”
“I know.” She raises one leg to rest the back of her knee on my shoulder. She makes the heel of her boot dig into my back for a second, and I like it. Naughty girl.
I punish her with my tongue.
I thank her with my fingers.
I worship her with my mouth.
She serenades me with sweet, heavenly sighs and moans and curses that would make a drill sergeant blush.
I decide to serenade her a little with my Irish tongue again, see if it has any effect this time. “You’re a feckin’ stunner, Maddie Cooper, and your fanny tastes like heaven. I’d feast on you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
She tenses up, shivers, and goes limp for a second.
Feck yeah, Irish.
“Devil tongue,” I think she mumbles.
One of her hands is in my hair, tugging and combing, and I would stay here like this for half an hour if it were the second or third time I’d had her. But it’s the first. I won’t let it be the only. I will take her as many ways as I can tonight, as soon as I make her come once or twice right now.
Lazy swirling, rapid fluttering, determined flicking, relentless tongue-fucking, and well-timed clit sucking does the job efficiently and effectively. She surrenders to me, and we are both rewarded with her shudders and rhythmic contractions, convulsing as she groans and frantically cries out. A dirty, delectable fallen angel.
I don’t know what it is about this woman that makes me extra Catholic, but I believe, I believe, I believe.
When she is limp and sighing, I stand up and carry her with me to deposit her onto the massive bed. I do not regret not being gentle, because she bounces magnificently, and she knows it. She smirks at me, lies back on her elbows, and lifts her foot up to rest on my chest. I unzip her boots, pulling them off, one by one, tug off what’s left of those black tights.
I’m about to slip those black panties down her legs when she pulls back and sits up on her knees. She reaches behind herself, staring up at me. I take in a sharp breath because I know I’m about to hold it for a really long time, and Good King Wenceslas, she slowly removes the lacy bra and
