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It was where I belonged.
“That’s it, baby. Let Santa fill you up.”
A half-hearted snort passed from her lips, but I wasn’t going to let her laugh at Santa.
I fisted a hand in her hair, tugging her face towards me as I claimed her lips in a hungry kiss—licking, sucking, and biting at her mouth so she definitely wasn’t laughing at “Ole Saint Nick” anymore.
Using my other hand, I lifted her as I fucked up into her, a violent, savage hunger overtaking me.
“Fuck,” I growled as her dark blue eyes held me captive, like they always did.
Blake wasn’t content to go along for the ride though…she lifted her hips on her own and started to ride me, bouncing up and down in my lap frantically.
I desperately tore at the tanktop she’d been wearing under the sweater she’d already taken off, ripping it in half so I could get to her perfect tits. I sucked the rosy peaks into my mouth, suckling and biting gently at them as she continued to fuck herself on my dick.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Sleighbells, gingerbread…why the fuck wasn’t anything helping! I was about to come and it was way too quick.
“I need you to come,” I gasped frantically, taking over and slamming her down on me. “Right the fuck now.”
“What’s wrong, Santa?” she teased, her voice thick with lust.
“Blake,” I growled. “Fucking come.”
A few more bounces on my dick and I finally felt her clenching around me. I couldn’t stop myself from following her over the edge, ecstatic pleasure rushing through me as I pumped my cum into her.
I buried my face into her neck, groaning because it felt so fucking good. Every time with her was the very best.
“Ho, Ho, Ho,” I muttered when I finally could actually speak.
There was a beat of silence, and then her body was shaking against me as she laughed.
I huffed, because the movement was too much against my sensitive dick.
“Give me a second, and Santa will show you what’s in his bag of toys,” I tossed out.
She lifted my face from her neck and stared at me, a beautiful smile on her fucking perfect face.
“Merry Christmas, Santa,” she whispered.
And fuck, I was suddenly ready to go again.
9
Monroe
Iwas officially a big fan of Christmas.
Which maybe shouldn’t have shocked me.
If there was one thing that was true about Lincoln, when he set his sights on something…it was going to happen.
And ithadhappened.
For the rest of the month after we’d gotten back from New York City, Lincoln had continued his quest to make me like all things Christmas. We’d gone through most of the Christmas classics—my favorite being Jim Carrey’s version ofHow the Grinch Stole Christmas.
Made even better by the orgasm he’d given me at the halfway mark.
