Page 36 of The Holidate Season


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Standing on her knees, she discards her sweater, tossing it onto the floor. I lift my gaze to hers when she threads her fingers through my hair, her tits inches from my face. Keeping my gaze affixed to hers, I tease her nipple with my tongue.

And cup both breasts.

Squeeze them until her mouth falls open.

I’m dying here …

Heavy breaths rush past her lips. Those dark eyes drift shut for a brief second before opening in a slow blink. A tiny, sharp inhale hisses through her teeth the second I switch to her other nipple. When her hips rock into my chest, I begin to unravel.

I lift her to the sofa where she fumbles with my pants. I stretch, tug, and peel her leggings down to her feet, and she kicks them off.

God … where is her underwear?

It’s as if she knew when she got dressed that I’d be ripping her clothes off, determined to put my dick inside of her.

I mumble a quick, “Condom?”

She strokes me a few times as both of our chins dip to watch her. It’s sexy and mesmerizing. No joke … this might kill me. My arms flex while I hover above her, and my hips slowly rock into her touch. Her warm … soft … touch.

“I don’t care,” she says.

Is that really an answer? She doesn’t care if I wear one? She doesn’t care if she gets pregnant? An STD?

I mull this over for all of ten seconds before my brain makes this quick calculation: she’s an adult who knows how babies are made and STDs are spread. She’s educated. So “I don’t care” must mean she’s already handled the birth control, and she thinks I’m an unlikely candidate for passing around STDs. That’s all I need to know before I let her hand guide my dick between her legs.

She’s reckless and I’m daring. The alcoholic and the gambler. What could go wrong?

“Fuck that feels good,” she says when I push into her.

Her vulgarity is hot. Really hot. My thoughts go a hundred different places all at once.

Does she want me to go slow? Is she feeling as needful as I am, wanting nothing more than for me to pound into her over and over? Is she good on the bottom? Would she rather be on top?

Her legs hug me to her while her lips peck at mine. Her rocking pelvis says fast.

I can do fast.

She digs her heel into my ass.

Hard.

I can do hard.

Her nails curl into my back, and I lose all control.

Unfettered need feels as good, maybe even better, than any high I’ve felt from gambling. This is messy, clumsy sex. We’re not out to impress each other; we’re in it for the endgame. The glorious release.

We kiss.

We lick and bite.

We claw and grab, looking for any sort of leverage to go faster and harder.

Animals. Yep. We’re completely animalistic.

“Oof!” I hit my head on the floor when we fall off the sofa.

Serena grins without pausing a second to see if I’m okay. She tosses a leg over and rides me hard.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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