Page 9 of Christmas with a Chimera (Claw Haven)

A rthur waited, his breath frozen in his chest.

It was entirely possible he had misread this.

He hoped he hadn’t. But twelve years was a long time, and she was still staring at him.

Maybe she would throw the risotto in his face.

Both bowls, for good measure. Grind the bread to crumbs in his mane and storm out into the snow and make him run out after her and argue until she let him fly her down the mountain.

She lunged, jarring the table so hard that risotto splattered over the tablecloth he’d found in the linen closet.

Arthur barely noticed, too occupied with her hands tangling in his shirt, her mouth a blazing pressure against his.

He’d forgotten what kissing her was like when she was angry at him, when he successfully taunted her into leaping on him instead of cussing him out.

It was glorious. He huffed a laugh against her lips.

She immediately pulled back, glaring. “What? Is this funny to you?”

“No,” he replied. “I just—”

Missed you . He clamped his jaw shut before he could say it.

He’d started this to stop all the sincerity, not keep it going.

To stop his stomach from doing that nervous squirming that had rarely happened since he left Claw Haven.

And, he was starting to realize as she dug her fingers into his mane and pulled him back in, so he could make her smile.

He loved making her smile. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until he felt it against his lips. He’d dedicated most of his high school career to making her smile. Once or twice, he’d had the ludicrous thought that he was put on this earth to make Emma Curt smile.

He pulled her into his lap, sliding his hands up her smooth back. She smelled like coffee beans and, inexplicably, the same deodorant she’d worn in high school. Berry Blast . He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the scent he’d once known as much as his own.

“This isn’t…” Emma paused, moaning as he pressed a careful bite to her collarbone. “This isn’t a date.”

“Never,” he agreed. He rocked up against her, letting her feel his growing erection.

Her mouth dropped open, her face going hazy with desperation.

She tried to cover it up, but it was too late.

A low growl built in his chest, oddly possessive.

She really hadn’t been getting what she needed.

He knew the town wasn’t full of the best and brightest, but these idiots were really letting her go unsatisfied like this?

What was Claw Haven coming to? And just when he’d been grudgingly starting to admit it wasn’t all bad.

He grabbed her ass and stood, heart jumping when her arms looped automatically around his neck. They’d done this before, after all. Muscle memory counted for a lot.

“Let me give you what you need,” he said. “You don’t have to be pissed off about it. Just tell me how you want it.”

She blinked down at him. He was holding her up high, the way she liked.

“I thought you said you knew,” she said breathily. “Admitting defeat so soon?”

He laughed, unable to stop it. “Right, I’m sorry. Marathon fucking with no foreplay, coming up.”

He fell back onto the couch, dragging her with him. She landed in his lap with a yelp, which quickly turned into a moan as she ground down against his hardening cock.

“Like hell,” she said. She tipped her head back, eyelids fluttering. “You have a condom, right?”

He nodded. “Still not a date,” he added quickly when she glared at him. “I just like being prepared.”

She smirked. For a second, he thought he caught a glimpse of something sad in it. Then she kicked her shoes off and leaned down, sucking his tongue into her mouth.

The rumble in his chest grew louder. He crushed her close, inhaling the heady scent tumbling off her in waves.

He’d always liked making a girl feel good, but he hadn’t had this narrow-minded drive in a while .

He wanted to drive her crazy. Show her what she’d been missing, sure, but also give her what she needed.

No wonder she was strung so tight, if she hadn’t been getting good orgasms on the regular.

He peeled off her shirt, groaning as her breasts spilled out in front of him.

“Shit,” he said. “I missed these.”

He leaned in, teasing her nipples with his fangs. She startled, her grip tightening in his mane.

He grinned into her skin. “Have you fucked a chimera since me?”

“Not a lot of chimeras to fuck around here,” she reminded him, grinding down into his lap. “Who am I going to roll around with, the mayor ? No, thank you.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard Christopher got that role. He dropped by for a photo op yesterday. Good guy.” Arthur undid her jeans and thrust a hand into her panties, luxuriating in her gasp as he circled her stiff clit. “Think he’d make you feel like this?”

She bit her lip, hips working. “He’s hot,” she managed with a stuttering laugh. “M-maybe I should’ve tried.”

Arthur ignored the wave of jealousy that surged through him as he imagined it. It was ridiculous—Christopher was too mild mannered, too put together, too boring —but it still made him clutch her tighter, dragging her jeans off so roughly he almost ripped the fabric.

She let out another startled laugh, cupping him over his slacks. “What about you , big boy? Kinda getting the vibe you haven’t been getting what you need. Thought everybody was falling all over you in LA.”

“They are,” he said. “I’m just…”

He kissed her again, stopping whatever pathetic thing was about to stumble out of his mouth.

What was with him tonight? Obviously, Emma was still knocking him off his game, but he didn’t expect her to do it so thoroughly .

Especially when she wasn’t even trying, too distracted by lust to focus on tearing him down.

He thumbed rough circles on her clit, the way she liked. She whimpered, the noise setting a fire in his belly. All his senses were narrowing down into her, the sweat growing on her skin, the needy hitch of her hips, how she was getting less and less able to hide how much she needed it.

“God, you’re gonna come already,” he realized.

She pried her eyes open long enough to glare. But even that was shot through with desperation, her teeth digging into her lip so hard the skin turned white.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I want you to. I’ll make you come however many times you want—you know I can. I’ve got you. Just let go.”

It was like relearning an old dance: teeth scraping lightly over her neck, one hand touching her clit, his other hand working her nipple.

Grinding against her thigh, letting her get excited about what was to come.

How many times had they done this, trying to keep quiet in his upstairs bedroom or her car parked in the beach lot after dark?

“Fuck,” she whispered. “Oh, fuck. Arthur .”

His cock jerked helplessly in his briefs as she came, her whole body going rigid with it. Her hips spasmed, her mouth open on a silent moan as he worked her through it.

Arthur couldn’t look away. She was so beautiful, naked and writhing on top of him. The look on her face was just as exciting as the first time he’d seen it, clumsy and triumphant in the back seat of her car.

She relaxed against him but only for a second. Then she was pulling at his shirt, her fingers trembling on the buttons.

“Stupid collar,” she panted.

He knocked her hands out of the way and started yanking the buttons free. She abandoned the shirt gladly, reaching down to undo his pants.

“What was that about foreplay?” he asked hoarsely.

She ignored him, pulling his cock out. She stared at it, thumbing the tip where pre-come was gathering, and her lips parted in a hunger that made Arthur shiver.

She looked up at him, eyes gleaming.

“Stay,” she told him.

She climbed off the couch, dropping to her knees on the carpet.

She took a second to shove the coffee table back, making an annoyed noise as she noticed the spilled risotto.

Then she turned back, reaching up to her head.

Sweeping her hair back, he realized as her hands swept through empty air and faltered on her pixie cut.

Either she got that haircut recently, or it had been a while since she’d been on her knees for a guy.

Before he could ask which one it was, she leaned down and sucked the head of his cock into her mouth.

He groaned, wedging a knuckle between his teeth to muffle the sound.

He had a list of approved sex noises, and these were getting decidedly out of control.

He couldn’t help it; she looked so fucking hot down there, with her head bobbing and eyes closed as she sucked.

Sinking lower and lower, trying to take him into her throat.

He sank a hand into her hair, ready to pull her off. Despite her steadfast determination, she could never get the hang of deep throating. But sure enough, his cock nudged the back of her throat and kept going.

He choked on air. Emma gagged around his cock, throat fluttering. But still, she sank lower and lower until her nose pressed into his wiry pubes.

“Holy shit,” he rasped. “Emma, fuck .”

Emma pulled off, coughing. She wiped her mouth.

“What?” she asked when he looked down at her in rapt disbelief.

“Nothing,” he managed. “Uh. Proud of you. You were really frustrated you couldn’t do it.”

She snorted, wiping her puffy lips.

“I did think about texting you,” she admitted. Then she sank back onto his cock, taking him deep into her throat and swallowing hard.

His head thumped back against the couch, lost in the sensations.

He wanted to laugh at the idea of her texting him: hey hope movie stardom is going ok, also i finally deepthroated.

What would he have even said to that? Congrats, I knew you could do it ?

Would he have felt the same weird mix of pride and sadness he felt right now, trying not to think about some guy he probably knew in high school coaxing his cock deeper down her throat, telling her what a good job she was doing?