He pinched her nipples through the soft cotton of her shirt, softly nipping her clit, forcing a surprised scream from her lungs.
“You taste amazing,” Eric coached, his tongue tracing her opening in a slow, smooth stroke. “Creamy, thick, and sweet.” He plunged his tongue deeper, whirling it in varying circles until she panted. “Like eggnog.”
Burying his fingers beneath her shirt, he pushed the thin jersey up, negotiating it around the ribbon still binding her. Her head swam as the cool room air wafted across her sweat-moistened skin. She panted at the satin-soft sensation of the velvet ribbon brushing along her previously unexplored flesh. Her small tank bunched around her neck, collecting the sweat gathered along her chest.
Eric kissed the inside of her thigh. A needy groan escaped her as he switched sides, placing an equally long and torturous kiss to her other leg. His warm, rough palms circled her breasts, squeezing her molded flesh, stimulating her nipples to hard nubs. “Did I ever tell you I love eggnog?”
Did he really expect her to answer? She was having trouble remembering to breathe, or swallow. Forming words was far beyond her capabilities.
He smiled, placing another kiss at the junction between her thigh and hip as a shuddered moan slipped from her lips. “It’s my favorite holiday dessert.
“Better than peanut brittle.” He continued switching back and forth along her legs, using his soft lips and warm, wet tongue to torture her.
“Or hot cocoa.” He dipped just the tip of his tongue inside her pussy, infuriating her with delicate tickling licks.
“Or bread pudding.” He plunged his tongue deep, twirling it along her inner lining until she whimpered. “But I think you might be an even better Christmas treat.”
“Eric,” she sobbed, her entire body hot, swollen, shivery. Her back ached from being bowed for so long. Her heart pounded in her ears like the beat of a drummer boy. He ignored her plea. His attention on her cunt remained constant, alternating between sucking hard on her clit and stabbing deep inside her.
She shifted and screamed. Her back arched off the bed, her hips rocking, her body bucking up until she was riding his mouth. Her pussy convulsed, her muscles shuddering, pleasure enveloping her from head to toe.
Her entire body tightened, taut as a bow. Fire washed over her. Her eyes blurred as stars sprinkled across her vision. A groan echoed from her throat, though she couldn’t hear it through the throbbing pulse in her ears. Her throat felt raw, itchy, and rough, like a woolen Christmas sweater.
She slowly came down, calming to the sensation of his hands smoothing over her skin, comforting and soothing. In the heated moments of her orgasm she hadn’t realized he’d levied her into his lap, cradling her against his chest. Her head slumped against his shoulder, her neck loose, unable to hold the weight.
“Again,” he whispered in her ear, his breath wafting over her sweat-slick skin, clumps of hair sticking to her neck. Her insides glowed at his praise. The need and heat only just quenched rebounded, slow and syrupy, deep inside her.
“I want to see you come again. I want to keep you screaming my name, squirming in pleasure all night long.” His breath was heavy, fast and panting, as he kissed her hair, his lips brushing her head in a wreath.
He cradled her, holding her tight as he deposited her back on the mattress like a fragile package. The bed sagged beneath her as he repositioned himself between her thighs. His chin rested on her stomach, his eyes as bright and wide as a child’s on Christmas morning. She’d never seen him so happy before, so light and confident. Her chest tightened, shimmering with the knowledge she’d given him that.
He smiled wickedly down at her, eyes glazed with passion. “I’m not done with you yet.”
His words sank into her, heating spaces deep within. Her legs shook, the muscles spent, pushed wide around his broad shoulders.
“Eric,” she cried as he drove two fingers into her, slow and determined, clearly enjoying her every tortured breath. Her knuckles ached where she gripped the sheets at her sides. Sweat dripped down her neck, trickling between her breasts, caressing her overheated skin.
“I want to worship you,” he whispered, his fingers slipping along her legs. His tongue lapped at her, licking away the remaining cream from her previous orgasm as more trickled along the inside of her thighs. “I want to fulfill your every Christmas wish.”
Callie’s fuzzy mind tried to recall every wicked wish she’d detailed on that list, every fantasy she’d conjured of Eric over the last long six months. Her stomach looped, hot lust fueling her blood, her toes curling as erotic images danced across her mind.
“Maybe I’ll even add a few of my own.” He smiled devilishly, his lips fastened on her clit, the echoing spasms of her previous orgasm still fluttering the engorged tissues. She bit her tongue at the idea. What heart-stoppingly erotic dreams could Eric conjure that she hadn’t? Given the spicy Santa Claus he’d already shown her, she couldn’t imagine what else he’d envision. She couldn’t wait to find out.
He shifted on his elbows, probing her with another thick finger, twisting his wrist with a sensuous flick as he plunged inside her. His long fingers filled her, curling her insides, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want fingers. She didn’t want play, teasing, or one-sided pleasure. She wanted Eric. Now.
She screamed as his tongue tickled her clit, the pleasure skating pain by less than the width of a holly leaf, barely calmed from her previous orgasm. Light contractions still gripped his fingers. She’d never had so many orgasms in one night, and she prayed there were still more to come, but she was sick of being contained. Unable to see Eric, to feel him against her, to watch his eyes as he pushed her over the edge.
“Come for me, baby,” he whispered against her cunt, her stomach flopping at the breeze of his breath.
“No.”
Chapter Four
Eric pulled back, slipping his fingers from her pussy and lifting his chest off the bed. He released her legs, allowing them to flop back together.
“I’m sorry. Is it too much?” Eric’s voice shook, his fear pushing past her lust-drunk mind. It was the first time he’d sounded scared or concerned since she’d found him in her living room. Since he’d wrapped her like a Christmas present and proceeded to give her two hall-decking orgasms. He hadn’t been hesitant when he’d spanked her, while she screamed and squirmed beneath his palm.
Callie sucked in a deep breath. It was also the first time she’d said no all evening. Not a surprised question or a conflicted silence, but a strong, firm no. But she hadn’t meant it that way. She didn’t want him to stop. They’d come this far, and he’d shown her so much. Now he had to fulfill her whole naughty list, or she’d crumple into pieces from restrained lust, like a snowman on a sunny day.
Her heart throbbed. It would be a lot more than lust that destroyed her if he pulled away now. She refused to contemplate what would happen when he left in the morning. Even considering the dawn made her chest hurt. She may have only tonight, but she was determined to make the most of it.
“No. I-I’m f-fine.” She fumbled, licking her lips, her mouth as dry as a Christmas tree three days after New Year’s. “That’s not what I meant.”
He chuckled deep and throaty between her legs, pressing a smile into her sensitive right inner knee. He gently massaged her legs, spread wide before him.
“What did you mean?” he asked, licking a line up her left thigh. The muscles of her stomach contracted at the warm, wet swipe. The tension in her body pulled tight as a string around a brown paper-wrapped package. How was she supposed to think when he was doing that? Her only thoughts centered on her sex, and how close it was to his talented mouth.
“Did you mean you wanted some cock?” The moonlight glistened off his moist lips curved into a wicked smile. He was enjoying torturing her.
But regardless of the rebellious note ringing within her to fight him, to deny him, she couldn’t punish herself that way.
“Please baby,” he whispered, raining soft, short kisses along her pelvic bone, decorating her hips. The cockiness disappeared in her moment of silent contemplation. His desperation and caring rang clear as a bell in his words. “I need to hear you say it.”
Callie swallowed, a lump as big as a walnut clogging her throat. “Please Eric,” she pleaded. “Please give me your cock. Please fuck me.”
Pressing a kiss to her cunt, right above the hairline, his eyes met hers over her quivering body. “That can certainly be added to my list.”
Callie watched with large, needy eyes as he rose, scrambling across the sheets to stand tall and powerful beside the bed. She sucked in a deep breath, holding back the scream of protest burning her throat at the absence of his skin against hers.
An evil smirk covered his face as he toed off the shiny black patent leather boots. The Santa suit jacket slipped from his broad, muscled shoulders until it fell to the floor behind him. Thick black suspenders bracketed his rippling, toned chest, and his dark blush nipples stood erect and pebbled. Callie’s tongue twisted to taste them, to circle them with the very tip until he gasped her name.
She’d never known Eric was made of so much muscle. He was quiet and unassuming, geeky even. He didn’t talk about going to the gym for hours or playing hard-core sports. How did he get such muscle? How had she not known? Though she had noticed his round, hard ass before, an image that had unwittingly been incorporated and woven through many of her fantasies.
He slipped the suspenders off his shoulders, her breath hitching as the stretchy black fabric lowered to his waist. Everything between them was about to change. She was about to see her friend’s cock. From now on, whenever she thought of him, she’d remember this moment, seeing him completely naked, bare before her. She should feel awkward or apprehensive, but all she felt was eager.
Eric’s hands fisted at his sides. Grasping the plushy red Santa pants, he slowly pushed them down his long muscular legs, lengthening her anticipation, enjoying her reaction. Her heart beat louder than the click of reindeer hooves on the rooftop, her breath echoing in the otherwise silent night.
He shifted the pants past his hips, his cock protruding thick and engorged without further barrier. He’d been going commando in his Santa suit! Callie took a deep breath, forcing herself to swallow back the lust threatening to choke her. He was large, hard, and fully erect. Thick veins stood out against the length. The engorged head pulsated with need, for her. His balls hung heavy between his legs, sprinkled with the curling ink-black hairs she could imagine brushing her skin, slapping against her pussy.
Saliva gathered in her mouth at the thought of licking his length, swirling her tongue around the tip, swallowing him whole, hearing him growl as she sucked him down. Going down on him hadn’t been on her naughty list. It wasn’t an activity she fantasized about, but after seeing Eric completely naked, it would definitely make her next list.
A pang throbbed in her chest. She wouldn’t get another night. She wouldn’t get another list. This was her one gift. She took a deep breath, pushing the painful thoughts down. There was no reason to dwell on it. All she could do was enjoy herself tonight.
Returning to the bed, Eric settled his body on top of her, his solid muscle enveloping her soft curves. His skin was hot, covered with a fine sheen of sweat. His smell surrounded her, stronger in his naked, aroused state. His rigid cock brushed her clit, rubbing along her exposed sex, tingling darts of pleasure flying from each spot he touched.
He cradled her head, his thumbs brushing along her cheeks. He dropped his lips to hers, the kiss soft and sweet yet intoxicatingly seductive. His tongue swept the inside of her lips, tickling the sensitive corners, scraping along hers.
She moaned against him, straining within her bounds. The need to touch him, to explore his chest, tease his nipples until he was the one groaning, drummed through her system so hard she couldn’t breathe. She gripped the flannel sheets beneath her, the fabric absorbing the sweat and heat of her palms.
Eric kissed his way down her cheek, nibbling hot bites along her neck and the top of her shoulder. She shuddered as he ran his tongue along the curve of her collarbone and down her sternum. He kissed each of her nipples, drawing them into his mouth and sucking vigorously. Her hips arched beneath his, red-hot streamers zipping from her nipples down to her wet and wanting pussy.
“Eric,” she gasped as he scattered soft kisses and sizzling bites along her stomach, the muscles quivering and shaking like a holiday Jell-O mold. The words came out more desperate and demanding than she’d intended. Closer to the truth than she planned to reveal. He smirked, his tongue tracing unintelligible patterns along her skin.
“This little patch—” he circled the square on her hip with the very tip of his finger, making her gulp a breath at the soft touch “—is like the pill, right?” She nodded as he dropped his lips to kiss around the patch, worshiping it for the possibilities it allowed.
“Good,” he sighed. Grabbing her hips to hold her still, he plunged into her to the hilt in one fast movement. She screamed, an octave higher than the howl rumbling from his chest, vibrating against her breasts.