Read HolidayHangover Online

Authors: Kelli Scott

HolidayHangover (3 page)

Chapter Five

 

Raul’s mouth closed over the silky panel of my panties.
Maybe he had the right idea. Maybe I needed the barrier between us to keep
myself from diving into a puddle of wet, warm ecstasy too soon. His mouth
opened and closed, pressed and pushed against the fabric. He nipped and pecked
at my panty-clad pussy. All the while, the white ball at the end of his Santa
hat bobbed.

“You smell so good,” he said. “Taste so good.” He pushed up
from the floor and leaned over my body, folding his hands into mine, our palms
flat against one another. Raul kissed me deep and slow, unlike the savage way
he’d been eating my satin-covered pussy. We both moaned. When he broke from our
kiss he licked his lips and said, “Told you so.”

“You sure did, Santa.”

Just when I’d thought the oral sex was over, he slid to his
knees again between my legs and returned to giving me the best head of my life—and
I still had my undies on. His nose got in on the action, rubbing back and forth
against my clit. Instinctively my legs fought against his hands spreading me
wide, fought the intense pleasure I couldn’t control. Santa held me prisoner
and I liked it. I liked it so much I couldn’t stop myself from snatching the
hat off his head, tossing it across the room and dragging my fingers through
his short dark hair. Pulling him close, I held him there between my legs.

His hand skimmed along my inner thigh, straightening my leg
at the knee, and continued down my calf. He angled the leg off to the side,
spreading me wider than I’d ever thought possible.

“Hold this for me, sweetheart.”

I cupped my hand at the back of my knee joint and did as he
asked. With a hand free, Raul hooked the panel of my panties with his finger
and pulled the fabric aside, exposing my pussy. I moaned for no other reason
than the thrill of expectation. For the longest time he simply looked, his hot
breath pounding my pussy until I thought I’d go mad. He muttered something in
Spanish. Suddenly he dived in full-bore, using his lips and tongue and nose to
stimulate the sensitive nerve endings that all terminated at my clit.

My thighs quivered. “Yes.” I grabbed my other leg and held
myself wide open for him. Raul had enough on his plate. “Oh yes.”

My affirmation drove him into a frenzy and his tongue shot
into my channel. Heat swept through my lower body like wildfire. Using muscles
I didn’t know I had, I pulsed my pussy at his mouth for more, although I wasn’t
sure what he could have done that he wasn’t already doing. Then he did it, that
little something extra I didn’t know I needed. But he knew. Raul fingered my
clit, massaging with the pad of his thumb while he licked at my slit.

“More,” I choked out. “That’s it.” I released my legs,
planting my feet on the edge of the bed, and arched my back off the mattress,
pressing my cunt against his face. The smoothness of his lips mixed with the
roughness of his whiskers sent me free-falling into darkness.

A torrent of thick, wet heat dropped from some secret place
in my belly, drenching my pussy with a splash of complete satisfaction. But
that wasn’t enough for him. He closed his lips around my pulsating clit and
filled my empty cunt with at least two fingers. When any other man would have
declared me satisfied, Raul rubbed his tongue against my nub and pumped my
pussy with his fingers, dragging out every last drop of ecstasy and soaking the
bedspread with my cum.

I thought the waves of pleasure would never stop echoing
through my body, but the ripples faded and I slumped against the mattress,
ready to curl up and sleep until Monday.

He rested on his haunches and sighed. “Merry Christmas,
Jane.”

My legs fell together. “Thank you, Santa.” My eyes closed. I
felt the bed spinning with me on it.

I heard him moving around the room, doing whatever guys did
post-cunnilingus. I pushed myself up the mattress to rest against a bank of
cool, satiny pillows. I was still buzzed from tequila and brain-dead from a
mind-blowing orgasm. I expected him to cuddle next to me or spoon me and slip
inside my pussy to get his happy holiday ending, then kick me out. Or if he
were a gentleman, he’d let me snooze until morning.

“That’s a good start to the festivities,” he said.

I heard a distinct buzzing sound. My eyes flew open and the
bed stopped spinning. “A good start?”

He held my Secret Santa vibrator up as he climbed across the
bed naked, a condom hugging his magnificent cock.

I pulled a pillow against me for protection and said, “I don’t
think so, Kinky Santa.”

“Don’t make Santa-cuff you to the headboard, Jane.”

My heart raced with a blood-pumping mixture of fear and
excitement. “You wouldn’t?”

He turned the speed up a notch on the vibrator. “Don’t test
me.”

I pushed him away with my feet. All those times I’d taken
the stairs at work instead of the elevator had to be good for something. I
certainly didn’t have the upper-body strength to defy him.

He silenced the vibrator and dropped it to the mattress,
dashing my hopes and fears. With his other hand, he held up the fur-lined cuffs
and captured my wrist, clamping the cuff snugly. I writhed and laughed while he
looped the chain through the headboard. He straddled my body, pinning me to the
bed, and cuffed my other wrist. I tugged on the restraints, but not hard enough
to do any damage to his bed. I didn’t entirely mind being his captive.

“Now where were we?” Raul said, the vibrator buzzing again.
He tore open another condom, tossing the wrapper to the floor, and rolled the
green latex over the cylinder. He skimmed my wet panties away and settled
between my legs. Testing the device on the crease of my leg, he asked, “How’s
that speed?”

I giggled and squirmed.

Grinning, he wiggled his eyebrows at me and teased my pussy
lips with the vibrator, testing and experimenting, getting the lay of the land.

I moaned, feeling the vibration near my clit. “God, yes.”

“Yeah?”

I dug my heels into the mattress and moved against the toy,
coating the latex with my slippery juices. He slowly dragged the vibrator back
and forth between my slick labia, rubbing the tip against my clit. I felt the
rumble deep inside, which was where I wanted the battery-operated dildo, so I
could slide against its length.

“Fuck me with it,” I begged, thrashing and flailing to be
one with my vibrator.

He eased the tip into my passage and rolled my clit beneath
his fingertips.

“Come for me again,” he said.

“I’m working on it.” I grasped the headboard for stability
and fucked the vibrator, taking the length deep inside me.

Working with me, Raul pushed in and pulled out in sync with
the rolling motion of my body. I hugged and caressed the vibrator with the
walls of my pussy. He leaned in and swirled his tongue over my clit. He sucked
my nub between his lips and I broke into a million pieces of shattered rapture.
Pleasure erupted, exploding and reloading to burst again and again.

“Hang on, Jane.”

He quickly tossed the vibrator aside, planted his hands on
the mattress on either side of my head and filled my shuddering emptiness with
his cock.

He mumbled something under his breath in lovely Spanish. His
eyes closed. He was probably enjoying my pussy constricting around his length
almost as much as I enjoyed the pleasant spasms. Opening his eyes, staring into
my very soul, he pumped me hard. I wrapped my legs around him and slid against
him, dragging out every last drop of ecstasy.

“Raul!” I called, tugging at the cuffs binding me.

“Jane.” He ground out my name like a growl.

I couldn’t tell where one climax ended and another began. Or
was it one long continuous orgasm started by the vibrator, ending with his
cock? Clinging to him, I couldn’t get close enough. He drove deep inside and
held firm. I rattled off a string of meaningless, garbled vowels, ending my rant
with, “Hell yes.”

His ended with, “Fuck yes.” Then he sort of collapsed on top
of me.

 

I borrow Raul’s toothbrush before following the smell of
bacon to the kitchen, where he meets me with a crooked grin and breakfast. I sit
when he points at a stool and wish I had one of those donut pillows to rest my
weary bottom, which his skimpy robe barely covers.

“Good morning, Jane.”

Something in the way he looks at me mixes with my
humiliation over the previous night, dissipating my shame. Acceptance.
Attraction. A little heat.

“Morning, Raul.” Good or bad is a matter of opinion. I
shuffle through the photos from last night littering his breakfast island and
have to smile at our fun and games. Who were those people? The woman in
particular, laughing and cavorting like a horny adolescent.

He sets a plate in front of me. “What a night, right?”

“About that,” I begin. “What happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you don’t remember.” His brows draw
together. “Sex. Lots and lots of amazing sex happened.”

I’d figured that much, actually remembering most of it.
Everything I have—arms, legs, butt—is sore from acrobatic sex. Every move I
make reminds me of our lovemaking.

I point at the telltale scratch marks branding his skin. “I…I
don’t remember that.”

He glances at the marks on his arms. “We woke at about two
in the morning, had a few more shots of tequila and you said you wanted to
touch me this time when we fucked— I mean made love.” Raul shrugs. “So—”

“Being a good host, you accommodated me.” I take a bite of
waffle.

Pointing his fork at me, he says, “Exactly.”

“And my ass?” I ask, a little afraid of his answer.

His eyes slide closed as if he were savoring a gourmet meal.
“Bonita.”

I appreciate the compliment but need to get at the truth
almost as much as I fear knowing the events of the previous night. “My ass is
sore.” In an unfamiliar way.

“Oh. That.” He glances away. “You started it.”

“Me?” I never start things.

“You practically begged me, Jane.” He hunches over his
plate, avoiding my eyes. “What was I supposed to do?”

“What?” Begging a man to give it to me up the ass does not
sound like the Jane I know. “I begged you?”

Raul shrugs. “You were a little tipsy last night.”

“So you thought it would be a good idea to pour me another
tequila?” I desperately need to blame someone for my wild night of debauchery.
Someone other than myself.

“I was—how do you say?—a little buzzed myself.” He winks. “It’s
a pity you don’t remember.”

“Why don’t you refresh my memory?” I take a big gulp of the
orange juice in front of me. I think it was freshly squeezed. “How does that
sort of thing get started?” I already know how it will end.

“Like this.” Raul reaches across the kitchen island and
takes my hands. Leaning in, he kisses each of my knuckles, one at a time. His
soft lips land sensually on my fingers, but not sensually enough to get an
invitation to a private party in my caboose. He turns my hands over and places
a kiss on each palm. “And this.”

Moving on, his tongue swipes across the vein at my wrist. I
tremble from the somewhat ticklish sensation and begin to see how one could
make the leap from my fingers to my bum. Rounding the kitchen island without
breaking our connection, Raul slowly kisses a trail up my arm to my shoulder,
where he playfully nips before moving on to my neck for some suckling.

“Remember yet, Jane?”

Chapter Six

 

Oh yes. It’s all coming back to me now.

 

I was conveniently lying on my stomach, enjoying the effects
of the tequila, the warmth of Raul’s body and the cool satin of his red sheets.
With my arm draped across his chest, I felt the beat of his heart beneath my
hand. That’s when he began with the knuckle kissing, and there was also a
little finger sucking that I felt all the way to my toes. The neck nuzzling
shot a jolt of pleasure straight to the top of my head. My entire body hummed with
awareness.

“Fuck me again,” I muttered.

He chuckled. “Shall I shackle you to the bed again?”

“No.” I stretched and wiggled a bit, loosening up my
muscles. “I want to touch you this time.”

Climbing to his hands and knees, Raul moved catlike around
my prone body, kissing and licking and occasionally nipping at my skin. I
responded appropriately with pleasant shudders and moans of approval, my body
coming alive again for him. Straddling my body, he pressed his powerful fingers
into my sore shoulder muscles and I groaned. He worked his way down my spine to
my lower back, pushing the heel of his hand into my knotted flesh. Moving
lower, he kneaded my butt, spreading my cheeks.

So far he’d been doing all the touching and I might as well
have been tethered to his headboard.

I read his mind—or my mind, or what I hoped was on his mind—and
scrambled clumsily to all fours. Squirming with expectation, I wriggled my back
end as an invitation to do it doggy-style, something I hadn’t done since my
reckless youth. He intermittently swept his palm along my hip, thigh and ass as
he dug through the gift basket—for condoms I guessed. I swayed and arched my
back, waiting. Anticipating.

Glancing over my shoulder, I asked, “Why aren’t we fucking
yet?”

He slapped my ass with his open palm and I yelped. “Patience.”

I arched my back when his finger slid through my folds
before easing into my channel. I sighed and the walls of my pussy clenched,
holding him inside, reluctant to release him. Ever.

“Wet,” he said. “I think you like to be spanked, young lady.”

I scoffed. “I do not.” Or more accurately, I’d never known I
did.

With his free hand Raul swatted the opposite ass cheek, as
before, and I gasped from the burn. My passage flashed with heat and drenched
his hand, betraying me. He rubbed at the sting until it vanished, then kissed
the area. He slid his finger out, replacing my emptiness with his cock, and
began driving in and pulling nearly all the way out, just to push deeper inside
me. He reached into the basket.

“What are you doing?” I asked, somewhat panicked and equally
excited by the unknown.

“Suiting up,” he replied, but he’d already rolled a condom
on earlier.

A puddle of liquid—not warm or cold—hit my lower back. “What
was that?”

His index finger dragged the fluid down the crack of my ass.
“Relax, Jane.” His thumb rimmed my anus, skimming around and around. He applied
pressure I felt heavily in my cunt. A finger penetrated the tight “exit only”
passage. No one had ever dared to breach my ass before. He’d not only broken
through, but pushed about an inch inside.

My chin dropped to my chest but I did not pull away from the
invasion. “Oh. No.”

He worked his finger in and out, pushing inside my ass as
his cock pulled out of my pussy. His free hand rested on my hip, guiding my
pace of rocking against his penetration. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I whispered, at his mercy. “Please, no.”

He plunged balls-deep into my cunt and moaned, groaning as
he pulled out, simultaneously sliding his finger at least to the second knuckle
into my ass. I matched him moan for moan and groan for groan.

“Please,” I said when he pulled his finger out of my anus. “More,”
I begged, hoping he’d fill me with two fingers.

Something larger than a finger—more like a smaller version
of his cock—pressed against my ass. The tip broke through and resumed the
rhythmic push and pull. Maybe he’d called in reinforcements. A neighbor. A
roommate I didn’t know about. The fire department. Like a tug-of-war, my orgasm
was being pulled forward and pushed away from deep within. The pulling would
win in a big way. And soon. I felt my climax building deep inside.

My upper body collapsed to the mattress as I whimpered,
powerless to participate any longer in Santa’s reindeer games. I was along for
the ride, nothing more.

“You still with me, sweetheart?”

I nodded as best I could with my face plastered to his
sheet.

“Talk to me, Jane.”

“Feels too good,” I mumbled against his mattress. “What is
it?”

He ran a reassuring hand along my spine and chuckled,
reminding me that he cared or liked me, or that I wasn’t simply a vessel for
his gratification, which was obvious. Clearly
he
was the instrument of
pleasure. All the while he continued rutting his cock into my pussy as if he
were drilling for water in a desert. The mini dick in my ass began vibrating,
answering my previous “what is it?” question. I splintered into a million
glorious pieces. I may have gone temporarily blind, seeing nothing but flashes
of light behind my closed lids.

“Quiet,” he whispered.

I hadn’t realized I’d been wailing into the pillow. No one
knew better than me how thin the walls were. I’d been listening to my neighbors
make love and war for too long. I decided they could listen to me for once and
I let out one last groan. The vibrator went silent and slid out of my ass.

“I can’t take much more,” he said through what sounded like
a clenched jaw. Despite his claim to be near his breaking point, and with me
curled up already broken wide open, he pulled out of my shuddering cunt.

“Aren’t you going to finish?” I asked. I’d yet to hear him
wake the neighbors from a sound sleep with his earth-shattering climax.

Patting my butt, he said, “Roll over.”

His request sounded like too much to ask of my aching,
quivering body. I painfully unfolded myself and flopped onto my back, sprawled
diagonally across his bed. “You can’t be serious.”

He was.

Raul busied himself swapping out condoms, red for blue and
yellow for pink, as if it were a high-paying occupation or his passion in life.
He tossed the wrappers onto the floor and situated himself between my legs. My
muddled mind couldn’t comprehend his actions or his intentions. I assumed he
paraded women through his bedroom on a regular basis. He seemed to know what he
was doing, positioning my wobbly legs as if I were a rag doll.

“I can’t,” I said. “I’m spent. Just get it over with.”

Grinning, he said, “I let you take a nap.”

“You let me?”

He leaned over my body and whispered,
“Bésame.”

“What?” I couldn’t think straight in English, much less in
Spanish. But the look in his eyes and his expectant expression told me what he
wanted. “Oh.” I lifted my head from the mattress and clamped my hand at the
back of his neck, pulling him to me for a kiss that started sweet but escalated
into a whirlpool of twisted emotion that swallowed my exhaustion and fueled a
primal need for completion. His completion. He’d given so much. And I’d taken
and taken and taken.

“It’s so sexy when you speak Spanish,” I said. “How do you
say sexy?”

“Sexy.”
Raul winked at me and grinned. The word
sounded nice rolling off his tongue.

He pulled away, getting back down to business. I admired his
work ethic. His cock butted up against my anus and he pressed gently.

“Wrong hole,” I warned him, but the head broke through into
my ass. My eyes rolled back into my sockets. I thrashed my head from side to
side. “Oh. My. God.” The buzzing started again. “No,” my mind screamed, but my
mouth said “Yes,” as he inserted the vibrator into my cunt.

His cock slid slowly in and nearly all the way out of my ass
over and over again. The vibrator remained stationary, only the speed of the
reverberations changing from time to time, echoing through my entire lower
body. “Come for me again,
cariña
.”

“I can’t.” I wanted to cry. He’d asked too much of me.

“I won’t until you do,” he said. “What can I do to bring you
to orgasm?” His thumb skimmed over my clit.

“That,” I replied breathlessly. I’d been headed back down
that long road since the kiss. I’d underestimated his stamina, thinking he’d
come way before I could. I grasped at the sheets. “Yes, that.”

The rumble in my pussy continued as he plucked at and played
with my swollen clitoris and dived into my ass with his impressive cock.

“I wish I could lick your pussy,” he said, “roll that sweet
bud under my tongue. Taste your sweetness.”

His words sent me spinning over a cliff of rapture, clawing
at his flesh as I tumbled into pockets of dark and light. The pleasure reverberating
in my pussy and pulsing through my clit mixed with the gratifying pain in my
ass until the line between each blurred, one crossing into the other. Agony and
ecstasy crashed head-on into each other and exploded in my pussy, a fiery ball
of wet, hot satisfaction that pulsed over and over again.

He tossed the vibrator aside and planted his hands on either
side of my head. Plunging one last time, he squeezed his eyes shut and shouted,
“Dios mío!
” for all to hear.

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