Page 7 of Grumpy Santa


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Angelina waited for Sean to undress her. It would reveal more about the man she was falling in love with and hoped to spend the rest of her life with. Would he torture her with slow kisses or strip her naked and consume her?

There would be time for both, she told herself, forcing all thoughts from her mind so she could focus on his touch.

She closed her eyes, mentally following the touch of his calloused fingertip down her throat and between her breasts. They grew heavy with desire, the tips tight knots of need. Slowly, with the same diligent care he applied to his blueprints, he slid each button on her silk blouse through the corresponding hole, pushing it down her arms until it fell to the floor. He released the clasp on her lace bra, freeing the weight of her breasts into his hands. He fondled each tip, plucking and pinching until she moaned.

It felt wonderful. Marvelous. Too good to go so slow.

They were partners. In Northhaven. In bed. In life. Fuck Sean’s languid seduction. She wanted him now.

No words needed.

She opened her eyes and licked her lips as she fumbled to release his belt and zipper. She slipped out of her black wool trousers and panties, the fire in the fireplace warming her skin. While she’d been getting naked, Sean had done the same. Gripping his cock loosely in her palm, she backed to the bed. Helplessly, willingly, he followed.

She lay on the quilt covering the huge bed and spread her legs in invitation.

“Protection?” he growled, kneeling between her knees.

“Taken care of,” she assured him, hands at his hips, urging him to join with her.

“Angelina.” He breathed her name as his cock slid between her wet flesh, sinking deep, seating himself at her core.

Their bodies moved, expressing everything they felt without words. Instead, their sighs and groans and pleas filled the air as a blizzard covered the North Pole with snow.

It was magic. It was Christmas. It was a beginning.

***

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