Page 29 of Hampton Holiday Collective

I grab a water bottle from the fridge and chug it on my way into the master bedroom. If he wants to meet up in the sauna, I’ll be ready. He’s all I want for Christmas and my birthday combined.

Chapter 22

Cory

Itrytokeepmy cool as I swing open the door to the sauna. I stop short at the threshold, though, because Jake isn’t here.

I drop my robe anyway and lay a towel on the lower-level bench, inhaling deeply as the dry heat and the scent of cedar overtake my senses.

Jake doesn’t keep me waiting long.

With his perfect head of hair slicked back and dripping, my husband saunters in, wearing nothing but a crimson red towel slung low around his waist.

He eye fucks me while I return the gesture, drinking him in and admiring the peaks and valleys of his smooth abdomen along with the bulging muscles under his tatted arms. He lets the towel fall, making me grateful, for once, to see laundry on the floor.

My attention drifts to his dick—to the way it hangs hard and heavy between his legs, to the perfect pearl of precum teasing me right on the tip.

It isn’t until he clears his throat and takes a step toward me that I notice the two bottles in his hands.

One is a bottle of our preferred lube. But the other…

“Is that—”

“Caramel sauce.” He flips the bottle twice through the air and catches it in one hand. “I swiped it from the hot chocolate station,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eye.

“And what, exactly, do you plan to do with that?” I ask, my voice catching in my throat as he straddles my lap.

He hovers over me, his knees on the bench on either side of my hips and his thick thighs locking me in place before he licks up my neck to my ear and whispers, “I plan to make myself a salted caramel husband for dessert.”

A moment later, he catches my mouth with his and kisses me senseless until I’m a panting, sweaty mess under his tongue. With a hand on the side of my neck and his thumb under my chin, he tilts my head back and devours me from above, fucking his tongue into my mouth over and over again in a carnal claiming.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so much.”

Mierda. The feeling is undeniably mutual.

“Tonight I’m going to show you just how much.”

He kisses a path back down my neck, biting and licking possessively, groaning every time I tilt my hips up and our cocks rub against each other.

Then he shifts back, putting a little more space between us, before shoving me back against the bench and holding me down with a palm to my chest.

“Everyone needs you lately, baby. I’m a patient man, but it’s my fucking turn. Right now, you’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”

He thrusts against my pelvis for emphasis, then reaches over for one of the bottles.

“Say it, Cory.”

“I’m yours,” I groan as he coats my nipples with caramel sauce.

“That’s right, baby. You’re fucking mine. Now what should I do with you?”

The sinister smirk tells me he already knowsexactlywhat he wants to do with me.

Jake spreads his legs wider, straddling my lap and sitting on my thighs, essentially pinning me in place. He makes quick work of cleaning off my chest—lapping at my nipples and moaning with each swallow of the sugary concoction mixed with my sweat. Without relenting, he works his hand between our bodies and wraps a fist around both our dicks.

I try to thrust up, to give in to the aching desire to move, but the weight of him and the force of his gaze keep me locked in place.

“You like that, baby?” he teases, sucking my lower lip into his mouth. “You like to feel how hard you make me—how hot I am for you?”