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Gray doesn’t stop fucking me, and his fingers don’t slow down even a little bit, catapulting me from one wave of pleasure into the next with no time to catch my breath. Only when he feels me go limp in his arms does he stop, dragging my earlobe between his teeth as we both breathe heavily.
When he pulls out of me again, my body screams in protest, my inner walls clamping around him like I could lock him inside me. He turns me around to face him and wraps his arms around me again, depositing me on the floor this time.
The hardwood isn’t exactly comfortable, but the second Gray’s cock slides back into my aching pussy, I forget all about that. He hovers over me, bracing himself on his arms as he looks down at me with the same intense expression he wore earlier.
“You think I like this, Sparrow?” he murmurs. “That’s the wrong fucking word. There isn’t a word in the English language for what it feels like to be inside you.”
His strokes are slow and measured, but I can feel the tidal wave building behind them. He’s so fucking close, but he won’t let himself finish. He won’t let this end.
I don’t want him to. I want him to keep fucking me like this forever, keeping the entire world at bay as he narrows my focus down to just the two of us.
But I also want to feel him let go. I want to see him let go. I want every fucking thing he has to give me.
I reach up and rake my fingernails down his chest, pressing hard enough to leave long red scratches on his skin. Shifting my hips against him, I squeeze him hard.
He grunts, his nostrils flaring as his pupils expand. One hand leaves the floor to wrap around my throat, tightening just enough to make my pulse kick up.
“I’m not done fucking you, Sparrow,” he growls.
My gaze locks with his as I clench around him again, lifting my hips off the floor to make his next stroke harder and deeper.
“Fuck.” His entire body shudders, and his hand squeezes my throat. It’s a warning and a promise all wrapped into one.
The pressure on my throat is making my heart slam harder in my chest, and heat is building in my core again, radiating through my body until my limbs feel heavy with it. I arch against him, writhing underneath him as my legs wrap around his waist.
With a ragged curse, Gray pistons his hips and drives into me, fucking me into the floor as he drops his head to claim my lips in a rough kiss. His cock swells inside me as he comes, pulsing with his release as he fills me up.
It’s more than I can take. My head spins as another orgasm crashes into me, and blackness tinges the edges of my vision as pleasure knocks the breath out of me.
Finally, Gray collapses on top of me. My body goes boneless beneath his, and I have the sudden wild thought that maybe neither of us will be able to move ever again. His parents will return from their holiday travels to find us sprawled on the kitchen floor like this, stuck together in a sated heap.
The image makes me laugh lightly. Gray feels the vibration in my chest and chuckles too, although there’s no way he can guess what I’m thinking.
With a heavy groan, he finally pushes himself up on his arms again and draws out of me, flopping onto his back on the floor.
“Merry Christmas, Sparrow,” he murmurs breathlessly, and I laugh again.
Because as crazy as it sounds, this might be the first Christmas I can remember that actually is merry.
6
The necklace is warm against my skin as I take the little heart between my thumb and index finger and look down at it. I twist it this way and that, admiring the way it glimmers in the sunlight spilling into the kitchen.
I haven’t been able to stop looking at it, feeling it against my bare skin, touching it—like I have to reassure myself that it’s there, that it’s not just a figment of my imagination.
“Do you like it?” Gray mumbles against my shoulder, his hand skimming over my naked breast. He drops his head and kisses the swell of flesh with lazy presses of his lips, seeming to be in no rush to move.
We’re still on the kitchen floor, completely naked, tangled up in each other’s bodies. It shouldn’t be comfortable. The wood beneath me is hard and cold, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. I feel… content. Peaceful. Every part of my body is satisfied and sated, and I love the feel of Gray’s body curled around mine.
“Of course,” I say, glancing at him. “It’s fucking gorgeous. It’s… it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had. That I’ve ever been given.”
I’m not sure why I can’t talk about it without my emotions seeming to swell up, but he gets the point.
He leans in, kissing me. It’s slow, deep, not rushed. Like he wants to taste and feel and explore every part of me again and again. When he pulls away, he seems to take the air out of my lungs with him, his eyes
bright with a pure happiness I don’t think I’ve ever seen in him.
He glances at the necklace. “Remember that movie Titanic?” he asks, plucking the little heart from between my fingers. His gaze drags up to mine. “When he painted her and shit?”
