Page 17 of Christmas Kiss
“Here… in the barn?”
“Right now,” he groans, gripping my waist tighter against the ridge in his jeans. Standing next to him, I feel the hard line of his cock through the rough denim, and every hormone in my body responds all at once, soaking my panties.
Part of me still wonders if this makes sense, if I should be putting the baby above everything else, but when I’m with Charlie, I can’t stop myself.
I need him. All night long, my brain was creating reasons.
Reasons why this works. Reasons to go after him. Reasons to let him bend me over.
Maybe none of that is rational. Hell, I’d bet it’s not, but right now, none of it matters.
He pulls off my jacket, unzips my dress, and I shrug out of the clothes as he twists the space heater toward me and admires my skin as though he’s desperate to touch me.
It’s funny. I’ve never been confident about my body, but there’s something about pregnancy that’s made me accept the lines and curves more than ever before. It also helps that Charlie drinks me in the way he does.
When he looks at me, I feel like a prize. Like I’m something he genuinely needs, wants, desires. His rough hand moves up the side of my arm and onto my face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, trouble.”
A soft heat warms my cheeks as I tug his jeans to the ground and expose his hard cock for the taking.
I rub my hand over the sensitive head, twisting his silky liquid down his shaft and onto his balls as he stares at me with need.
Tunneling his fingers through my hair, he slaps my pussy with his other hand and holds it there as he backs me up against the wall. “You smell like you’re ready for me. Is that true, trouble? Are you ready for my cock?”
“I’ve been ready. Fuck me, Charlie!” There’s a yearning in my voice I don’t recognize. It’s clear I’m falling apart.
God, maybe this is a bad decision. I’m letting my hormones take control again. I’m letting emotions run my life. This is everything that self-help book was telling me not to do.
His fingers, tongue, and teeth work my body over, slowly torturing me, bringing me close to pleasure before easing me back down again.
I arch forward and back, jerking his hard cock in my hand as he continues to touch me, remembering what I’d liked from the last time we made this mistake.
His finger circles my clit and his teeth scrape against my nipples. “Good fucking girl, getting so wet for me.”
I’m tipped up onto my toes, sucking in air as I grind against his hand, begging for more.
The reindeer hoof and paw against the stalls as the scent of oats and hay fill the building, but as I lean into Charlie, all I smell is cedar and pine with the faint smell of exhaust on his collar like he’s been working on the tractor.
For some reason, this only drives me more insane.
I moan out as he digs into my pussy deeper, then pulls his fingers from within before licking them off as he stares at me.
“Fuck,” he groans as he lifts me into his arms before taking two steps to the left to settle me onto a feed table. A stray oat sticks to my thigh and another to my butt cheek, but I don’t care. Right now, all I want is for this man to ravage me.
I press my lips together and blow out a breath as he strokes his cock at my entrance, pressing the head against the soft, wet tunnel waiting for him.
“Don’t look away from me, trouble. Not once. Tell me you understand.” His voice is low and commanding. “I want your eyes on me when I make your tight little pussy come.”
I nod and groan, locking my legs up over his shoulders as he hooks my thighs and pushes into me. The move is quick and eager, and followed by a growl.
His dark eyes are on me, steady and hard, raw with desire as he spreads me wide and fucks me hard.
My ankles bounce on his shoulders as he leans forward and cups my hand with his face. There’s a pregnant belly sitting between us, but you wouldn’t know it by the way he takes me over. Here, in this carnal moment, I realize that the books I’ve been reading have been all wrong. If I hadn’t listened to my heart, I wouldn’t be here and Charlie wouldn’t be holding me close. He wouldn’t be demanding my stare. He wouldn’t be spreading me wide.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he growls out. “Tell me!”
“I’m yours!” I pant as my back scrubs against the cold, tile counter.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl. That’s right you’re mine.” He thrusts harder, fingering through my hair, peppering kisses against my face, groaning as he thrusts.