Page 89 of Daddies' Holiday Toy

One of his hands comes up, cupping my jaw, holding my face still so I can’t look anywhere but him. “Eyes on me, Holly.”

I obey, even when pleasure starts to spiral hot and fast in my belly.

Even when my body tries to arch away from the intensity, he keeps me pinned, pushing me right to the edge.

The sound of our skin meeting, the faint creak of the bed beneath us, it’s all I can hear.

It’s all Iwantto hear.

I’m gone before I realize it, my orgasm ripping through me so hard I cry out, my nails clawing at his back.

Jack’s rhythm falters, his breath stuttering against my cheek as he buries himself deep one last time, spilling into me with a groan that’s pure raw relief.

For a long while, we just stay there, our bodies locked together. Eventually, Jack eases out of me, but he doesn’t let me move far.

He grabs a towel hanging nearby and starts cleaning me with the same slow, careful touch as the first time.

Only now, it’s his cum he’s cleaning up.

When he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and leans down, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he says, voice firm but softer than I expect.

“You always this jealous?” I murmur, my lips brushing his jaw.

He huffs out something close to a laugh. “You think I’m gonna answer that?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’ then.”

That earns me a look—one of those unreadable stares that makes my pulse skip. He lifts himself just enough to really look at me, and when he speaks his voice is a little more firm than I’m expecting.

“Holly. I’ve never been jealous a day in my life. Until you came around, I thought people were simply insecure.” He pauses, letting that sink in. “And thenyoucame around.”

Something sparks in my stomach. Warm in a twistedly dangerous way.

Despite not knowing him for long, I know this isn’t the kind of thing Jack justsays.

It’s too raw, too revealing for a man like him to be this openly vulnerable.

It hits me somewhere deep in my chest.

I could push him for more answers.

I could try to make him admit exactly what he means by that, but I don’t want to press the bruise too hard and risk him shutting down.

Right now, I want to feel that vulnerability in another sort of way.

So I shift, sliding my leg higher over his hip until I can feel the thick press of him against me again.

The movement makes his breath catch, and I let my fingertips trace along his ribs just to feel the way they expand under my touch.

“Then show me,” I whisper.

His gaze holds mine for a beat longer, deciding whether to keep playing it safe or burn the bridge entirely.

He closes the distance between us again.

The kiss is different this time.