Page 41 of Under the Mistletoe

He groans as his hands run up my body, and I arch a little. His palms scoop around my back, unclasping my bra before pulling it from my arms. Lips moving across my jaw, he ducks under my chin and trails kisses down my neck and chest until he reaches my breasts.

“Ohhh…” I bite my bottom lip because this is real and I’m not dreaming. I run my hand through his thick hair, something I always imagined doing from the moment I first saw him as he sucks on my nipple, his large hand molding my other breast.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” he moans as his hands lower, skirting across my hips, taking my underwear, and I maneuver so he can drag them down my legs. I’m panting like I’m running a marathon, naked as the day I was born, and so ready for this. He gives me a sexy-as-sin grin that I know I’ll be reliving in my mind on the regular, and for a split second, I wonder what in the world is happening.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Again, my confidence astounds me. This is not me. At least not the girl I thought I was. I usually melt into the background. Always the side character, never the lead. But ever since I met Donovan, I’ve stepped into a new version of myself. His acknowledgement of my work the first time we met solidified the confidence I had within. Now, the more time we spend together, the more confident I feel with him and others. And the way he looks at me, handles me, makes me feel empowered.

He rips open the condom and rolls it on, his cock hard, ready, and throbbing between us. Gripping behind my knees, he pulls my body across his thighs, closer to his hips as I straddle him on the sofa. I reach for his face, cupping his cheeks again and bringing him to my lips.

“Looks like I’m not the only needy one…” he says between our hard kisses. His lips are ferocious, and I’m giving back everything he offers. He slides a hand down to my center, and when he touches my clit, I jolt a little before he circles it. I almost come undone right then and there.

“Shit…” I pant as my hands run down his shoulders, his large biceps popping, his muscles tense as he circles my clit slowly and my hips start rolling against him.

“I want you bouncing, these pretty breasts in my mouth, and you coming on my cock.”

I almost quiver at his words. No man has ever spoken to me like that. And hell, I like it.

“Yes… I want that…” I sound breathy as I lift, and he positions himself at my center. Lowering myself, I go slow, getting a feel for him, ensuring we fit, the movement deliciously seductive.

“Fuuucccckkk,” he groans, his head falling back on the sofa as I slide down and back up, getting used to his size. I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never done cowgirl before. Never ridden a man. Never had sex on a sofa. But it’s like my body knows exactly what to do, and when his large warm hands curve around my hips and grab my ass, he moves me where he needs me and we fit just right.

“Yes…” He lifts me up and down, faster and faster, as I hold on tight to his shoulders, which are broad, solid, and so smooth to the touch it’s a crime. “Fuck, Jessie…”

I almost choke my moans as his sweet name for me falls from his lips. My hands run up his neck, and he leans forward, claiming the surprise from my lips in a burning kiss. I feel alive, and I bounce faster, my clit hitting his pelvis over and over, my orgasm close.

“Oh God…” I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, my body chasing a high right on the horizon. “Yes… oh God… yes…” I feel like chanting, but I can’t catch my breath.

“That’s it… Fuck, that’s it… You feel so fucking good…” He starts to thrust up into me, meeting my bouncing. We’re both panting, sweating, our skin slapping.

My fingers dig into him, like I’m clawing his skin, needing more, wanting more. His hands tighten as he grips me, the prickle painfully pleasurable. All I want is more.

“You’re… so…” I almost hiccup.

“Yeah, baby?” He looks up at me, watching me bounce, pure admiration and lust on his face. His hair falls across his forehead a little more, and I bite my bottom lip.

“So good… It’s sooo, sooo good…” He leans forward again, kissing my breast, and I run my hands through his hair, pulling him closer. I roll my hips, finding the friction I need, and take a sharp breath. “I’m going to come…” I’m shocked. It feels too much, like I can’t get a handle on it. My hips move faster, his hands pull harder. It’s all-consuming, and I’m lost in it.

“Yes, baby… Fuck, yes…” His hands clench harder on my hips, warmth spreading across my skin.

“Donovan…” My breath hitches as my clit pulses, and it rushes through me. “Donovan!” I scream his name, comically loud, genuinely so. But I have no time for embarrassment as my orgasm rages through me so powerfully that my legs start to shake.

“Fuuucckkkkkkk,” he roars as he thrusts up harder before he comes, and I hold on to his shoulders tight, his hands gripping on to my ass. I know I will bruise, but I don’t care.

My forehead pushes against his as we come down from euphoria, his hands sliding up my back as his lips find mine.

And we kiss. Our naked bodies entwined, him holding me close, his hands roaming, touching every curve. If I lose my job over this, I already know it was worth it.

17

Donovan

Regret. It's the emotion that I should be feeling. I just fucked my employee. It’s against the rules. My own rules. The no fraternizing policy I put in place when I became CEO so my staff would stop the dalliances with each other and actually do some work in the office. Now it has come back to bite me. Because her naked body is warm and luscious against my own. She was bouncing on me like she knew exactly how I liked it. Fast and ferocious, and it was fantastic.

I have zero regrets. Not a fucking one.

“Wow…” she whispers, and I can’t stop touching her. My hands coast across her skin, up and down her back, around her hips. I just want to touch every part of her. I have sex regularly. Or used to… The realization that I haven’t been with a woman since I first laid eyes on Jessica is almost startling. As is the fact that I never cuddle. Never do I have that sweet feeling of contentment of having a naked woman lying in my arms and want to keep her there. Until now.

“Mmmmm… you okay?” I want to ensure it wasn’t too much. I know I can be, and I have a feeling she isn’t as experienced.