Fuck, I love it. The way she’s giving herself over to the wild abandon of letting a stranger eat her out, I don’t think she’s ever given herself permission to feel this fully before.
“I’m gonna–You’re gonna–ohfuuuuck.” She practically screams as her orgasm crashes into her, eliciting whole body shakes as the pleasure rocks through her. Thighs clamped on either side of my head, I slow the thrust of my fingers as I continue to eat her through her orgasm, feasting on her release that drips down my chin.
Listening to her enjoy every second of pleasure I wring out of her makes me feel like a teenage boy discovering dirty magazines for the first time. Mainly because of the jizz in my pants which hasn’t happened to me since I was probably thirteen.
But that’s how Noelle makes me feel: Alive. I’ve been coasting along waiting until this time of year when I get to do something worthwhile,not realizing I was missing someone who makes me feel this way.
Only once her breathing has slowed to a heavy but steady rate do I stop and rise to my full height, admiring the afterglow her release has created. She’s a work of art spread before me.
“You’re indescribably beautiful,” I tell her, because every woman deserves to hear it.
Before I can say anything else, the timer on the oven dings to tell us the cookies are done.
Pulling her to a sitting position, Noelle almost slumps into me as I hold her hand, staring into her angelic face.
“Frosting you was more fun,” I tell her, “but it’s time to give you a reason to like Christmas and decorate some cookies.”
The small, disbelieving, amused chuckle that leaves her makes my heart sing. So soft and genuine, I think she’s actually starting to come around to the idea of Christmas.
“Maybe I’ll be more into Christmas if that’s how I get to celebrate every year.”
Chapter Nine
Noelle
My ex-boyfriend’s murderer just ate me out.
I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that intense before, and Cole wasn’t even inside me to do it. How can this complete stranger coax such a visceral reaction from me when guys I’ve dated longer than I’ve had a car payment couldn’t?
“Any chance you have a washer and drier in your apartment?” Cole inquires. I’m momentarily confused until his half-lidded gaze drops to his pants and I realize what he means.
I did that to him?I thought that was something you only hear about in books. I’ve never been naive enough to think my own enjoyment would get a guy off like that.
In my experience, getting me off first is either so the guy can come as soon as he wants or just to make me tighter forhisbenefit.
“You’re in luck,” I school my features so he can’t tell what this information does to me. “But, um, I don’t have anything else for you to wear.”
The wolfish expression crossing Cole’s face is both downright handsome and entirely concerning.
“I guess I’ll have to frost cookies in my birthday suit, then.”
“My turn to ask a question,” Cole announces as he uses the blue frosting to decorate a Christmas tree shaped cookie which drives my type A personality insane. “What’s your favorite book?”
Cole gives me the sense he enjoys making other people uncomfortable, that he likes prying into their psyche and peeling back the layers one at a time. So with the open invitation to ask anything he wants, I’m surprised when he asks such a simple question.
Though answering is made that much harder by the sight of his cock hanging between his legs as he stands in my kitchen making cookies. How am I supposed to concentrate when there’s a naked man in my kitchen?
As I predicted, he’s a tattooed adonis. The ink I spotted on his wrists travels up both arms and across his pecs. Everything is connected in some way with a well thought out design that truly is a work of art. Its not a bunch of little tattoos with something to connect them all. This design must have taken hours to dream up and even longer to permanently ink into his skin.
Except the one on his neck. It looks to be words and sentences tattooed in tiny print to make up the design there. If I had to guess, I’d bet money that’s the only tattoo with meaning behind it.
“Hey, Noelle,” Cole’s husky voice draws me out of my wondering. “My eyes are up here, pervert.”
Returning his playful tone with my own, I retort, “You shouldn’t be standing naked in my kitchen if you don’t want to be ogled.” I turn my gaze back to the snowflake cookie I’m frosting instead of meeting his smoldering eyes. “Besides, it’s only fair since you got to get your fill of my nakedness earlier.” I’ve since slipped on an oversized t-shirt since I–unlike my serial killer fuck buddy–do not like performing kitchen activities naked.
“Get your head back on track. Favorite book.”
“Right.” I focus on the smell of the freshly baked cookies and my precise lines on the snowflake instead of the drool-worthy body across the counter from me. “Pride and Prejudice.”
