Page 122 of Make You Mine This Christmas

Overcome, all Haf can do is press her lips together and nod enthusiastically.

She feels dizzy as Kit runs her hand up, over the curves of Haf’s body, to the edge of her bra. They kiss deeper as Kit traces Haf’s breast, and slowly, teasingly, she rubs a thumb over the nipple, and Haf moans right into Kit’s mouth. Kit laps the sound up, like she could live off it alone.

And as Kit’s hand slides back down slowly to her knickers, she bleats out a soft, ‘Yes, Kit’.

Haf curses that she didn’t wear prettier underwear, but all she packed were her most sensible belly-button covering M&S cotton pants. It doesn’t seem to matter to Kit.

‘Didn’t I say no more talking?’ Kit whispers. ‘Although, I do like to hear you say my name.’

The heat between her legs isunbearable, and she rocks forward as Kit traces the edge of her underwear.

‘Do you want?’

‘Please,’ Haf begs breathily, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible, but she wants to scream with the agony of it all.

And with a gasp, she feels Kit’s thumb slide right to the hottest point between her legs.

It’s electricity and sparks and all the bright colours, and she has to press her face hard against Kit’s sharp shoulders so that she doesn’t just scream with the joy of it. It’s so much. She aches for Kit to touch her everywhere, to be inside her, and then she is,and Haf could just die right at this moment, just be snuffed out in an instant for feeling way too much.

She comes quickly, thrown head first into orgasm from the tension and secrecy and Kit and everything else. Her body roils beneath Kit’s.

Panting, she stares up at Kit, who runs a tongue over her bright white teeth.

Haf wants to kiss the smug smile right off her face.

And she does, dragging Kit’s face back down to her hot mouth.

‘My turn,’ she whispers, both as much a question as a command.

She leans Kit down onto a – hopefully sturdy – shelf, kissing down from her mouth to her collarbone. The velvet dress has rucked up between them, and Haf reaches under to take her tights and underwear in her hands.

Kit moans a soft, ‘Please,’ as Haf pulls at the fabric teasingly, dragging it against Kit’s hip.

‘I thought you said no more talking.’

‘That was to shut you up long enough so I could make you come,’ she says.

‘Well then,’ she says and drops to her knees, rolling the tights down as she goes. Kit shivers as she plants a trail of kisses up the inside of her thigh, and her skin flushes with goosebumps, the soft hairs rising. As she goes higher, she takes her time, waiting between each kiss as Kit quivers under her touch.

‘Is this okay?’ she whispers, but before she can finish, Kit mutters something that sounds distinctly like, ‘Yesshutup.’

The tiny moan of delight and relief she makes when Haf kisses her between her legs is the most delicious sound she has ever heard. Kit knots her hands in Haf’s hair as she roils under her touch, and her knees shake in the most delightful way whenshe comes. Haf wants to do that to her again, and again, and forever.

Drunk with it all, Kit sinks to the floor to join Haf, peppering her with sweet kisses.

‘Well. That was—’

‘Fucking great,’ moans Kit, still high on orgasm.

‘Chaotic enough?’

‘I don’t think there’s anything about this that isn’t at least a bit chaotic.’ She rolls her tights and underwear back up, smoothing her ruffled hair.

‘We should probably get the things on that list, or Esther is going to come looking,’ says Haf, wobbling to her feet and rescuing the list from its place of safety on a shelf. ‘Do you need a hand getting up?’

Kit nods, and she lifts her up gently, pulling her into her arms. They would be face to face if Kit weren’t so much taller than her.

Kit brushes lint off the bottom of her dress where clumps of what looked mostly like dog hair have clung on for dear life.