"Touch your breasts," he says.
I go to rub my thumb over my nipples.
"Slower. Cup them first."
I cup my breasts, pressing my palms against my nipples. He's going to torture me making this take forever, but I really can't complain.
His eyes are fixed on my chest, wide with desire.
He leans back in his chair, spreading his legs to take up as much space as possible. "Play with your nipples."
Finally. My fingers waste no time. Every touch and pinch sends a shock wave to my core. I can barely keep my eyes open. It already feels so good.
My breath picks up until I'm panting. I squeeze my nipples hard, the way he does. My sex clenches, desperate for a build-up and release. Desperate for Blake.
He's watching me with rapt attention. "Keep your panties on while you touch yourself. But do it slowly."
My hand goes up my thigh reflexively. I look to Blake as if to ask permission. He nods. I almost sigh in relief.
I slide my fingers over my clit with a soft touch. It's not as good as if it was Blake, but there's a thrill to him watching me. Tension builds inside me. I'm already keyed up.
His voice gets heavy. "Sit on the bed now."
I do.
"Spread your legs."
I do.
"Wider."
I spread my legs as wide as they'll go. My breath catches in my throat. That same shyness threatens to derail this. The flush in my cheeks spreads to my chest and stomach.
I inhale slowly. It's enough to calm my nerves. There's still all this electricity buzzing through me.
"Don't you want to join me?" I ask.
"After I watch you come."
Blake's eyes find mine. The look that passes between us is enough to melt the last hint of nervous energy.
I want to give myself to him, whatever he wants.
"Turn on the vibrator," he says. "Then come for me."
I pick up the new toy. It takes a few moments of playing with the buttons to get it on. Then it's buzzing in my hands, the way my cell phone does when it's on vibrate, only harder and without ceasing when the call goes to voicemail.
I drag the toy down my stomach. The cool metal warms slowly, until it's not quite so shocking against my skin.
My heart races. Every nerve in my body wakes up as I press the vibrator to my clit.
Holy shit, that's a lot of sensation. More than I've ever felt before.
The knot inside me tightens so damn fast. I'm seconds from coming. I have to move the toy. This can't be over yet. Not until Blake is panting and groaning too.
Deep breath. I press the toy against my clit again. Pleasure shoots through me. Almost too much. I have to do something to contain it. I slide it down. The sides of my knees strain against the bed.
Blake is staring at me with such rapt attention. He wants this as much as I do, even if he has the self-control to sit all the way over there.
The silver toy nudges at my sex. I'm wet already. It slides inside me with no force at all.
Wow. Not as good as Blake inside me, but amazing all the same. I fuck myself with the toy, taking it as deep as it will go then pulling it almost all the way out. Every time, I get a little closer to the edge. The knot inside me pulls tighter, until it's so tight I can barely take it.
When I finally manage to pull my eyes open, they go straight to Blake. His mouth is hanging open. His pupils are dilated. For once, he's completely at my mercy.
I'm not about to lose this opportunity. I'm going to give him one hell of a show.
I lean back, until I'm flat against the bed. I spread my legs wider. And I fuck myself with the toy. Harder and deeper.
His breath gets heavy. He groans like he can't stand watching without touching.
It all feels good. My body is buzzing with electricity, somehow desperate for more and racing toward an orgasm all at once.
My eyes close. I can't wait anymore. I bring the toy back to my clit and slide it in slow circles until it's in exactly the right spot. Every vibration tightens the knot, sending me closer to the edge. I squeeze the sheets to maintain control, but they're too smooth.
"Blake," I groan.
He's not even touching me and he's making me come.
An orgasm rises up inside me. I need to show him how good he makes me feel. And not just now, but all the damn time. I groan and pant. When that's not enough, I groan his name again and again.
I go over the edge. All the tension inside me unravels, sending waves of pleasure to my fingers and toes. I come so hard I can barely breathe.
I try to turn off the toy, but the buttons are too confusing. I drop it on the ground instead.
Finally, Blake gets out of his chair. I can't see him, but I can hear him. He reaches down, picks up the toy, and turns it off. Then he sits on the bed next to me.
He leans close and strokes my hair. "You're beautiful."
"Thank you." My cheeks flush. "Is that what you meant about the world being beautiful?"
"Not quite." His lips curl into a smile. "Come here."
He slides his arms around my waist and pulls me into his lap. I slide my legs around him, straddling him. He looks up at me, the same way he did when we first made this Christmas deal. Only this time, there's no need to negotiate in his eyes. There's nothing to prove. There's nothing except love.
Pure, deep, true love.
I kiss him hard. It's like his feelings are pouring into me. His words are sweet, but his body says more than words ever could.
He pulls his sweater and t-shirt over his head. I run my hand over the strong muscles on his chest and stomach. Then over his jeans.
The sweetness shifts to something a lot more demanding.
I rub Blake over his jeans. He groans, pressing his lips against my neck. There's a vulnerability in his eyes. He's not used to me in control.
We shift up on the bed. I press my hands against his shoulders to push him flat. Then I kiss my way from his shoulders to his stomach. Soft skin against hard muscles. He's warm and he tastes so damn good. I unzip his jeans and tug them down his hips. Then the boxers.
I slide my tongue over his tip then take him into my mouth. It's so different than last time I was in this position. Right now, he's at my mercy.
I suck on him until he's groaning and tugging at my hair.
His nails dig into my shoulders. "Get on top of me."
An amazing idea. I shift, straddling him. My hands on his chest, I lower myself onto him.
It's like I'm home.
Blake slides his hands up my sides. They meet between my shoulder blades and he pulls my body onto his. We're pressed together, stomach to stomach, chest to chest.
The skin to skin contact is enough to push me to the brink of an orgasm. My sex clenches, desperate for another release. I dig my hands into his skin to contain myself.
He kisses me hard, sucking on my lower lip. His hands dig into my ass. He holds me in place, shifting his hips to thrust into me.
I melt into his motions. Bliss rises up inside me. How can anyone see the world as anything but beautiful? Everything is in its right place. Everything is perfect.
My eyes flutter closed. I soak in the feeling of his skin against my fingers, his lips against my lips, his cock in my sex. We fit together perfectly, here, there, everywhere.
With his next thrust, I come. My sex spams, clenching him tighter. I moan into his mouth so I don't break contact. He kisses back—hard—his tongue plunging into my mouth like he's claiming it.
In one swift motion, Blake slides his hands around my stomach and shifts us so I'm under him. I hook my legs around his waist. I wrap my arms around his chest.
The weight of his body sinks into me. On the plush foam mattresses, it's perfect.
His lips go to my neck. He bites me gently. His breath speeds up. His arms shake. He's almost there too.
I open my eyes to watch him come. It's such a beautiful thing to see. His teeth sink into his lip. His forehead relaxes. A shudde
His next motion sends him over the edge. His cock pulses, filling me. I dig my fingers into his skin to hold him close. And I watch the expression of pure bliss form on his face.
He collapses next to me and pulls me close, so I'm his little spoon and he's my big spoon. My eyes close. It must be late now. I'm exhausted, ready to fall asleep in his arms.
We lie together for what feels like an hour.
He breaks the silence. "Are you hungry?"
I nod. "For something small."
Blake shifts off the bed. I take a moment to change out of my lingerie and into a pair of flannel pajamas.
He's in the kitchen, fixing two mugs of hot chocolate. When our eyes meet, he smiles.
"Kat, look." He points to the window.
It's snowing.
Those perfect white flakes from the roof fill the air. A white Christmas. It's an actual white Christmas.
He hands me a mug of cocoa and wraps a blanket around my shoulders. Then he finds a blanket for himself.
Blake leads me out to the balcony. It's freezing, but I don't mind. It's Christmas and it's snowing and I'm here with the man who is going to be my husband.
Everything in the world is right.
Blake slides his arm around me. "Merry Christmas, Kat."
"Merry Christmas, Blake."
The End
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Tempting Teaser
He’s my best friend’s older brother. He’s off-limits. But when I find the brooding tattoo artist’s sketchbook full of dirty drawings—drawings of me—I can’t resist.
Chapter 1
Brendon
Get Tempting Now
Kaylee plants her palms on the table. Her cheeks spread to her ears. They're pink. Then red. She's laughing so hard her tits are shaking.
Damn, that tight blue dress, the same blue as her glasses.
She looks amazing, like the sweet, innocent angel she is and like the sex goddess I'm desperate to unleash.
But I still hate that scrap of fabric with every fiber of my being.
I hate every ounce of air between us.
Every flint of wood in this table.
Every guy here looking at her the way I am.
Fuck, if I don't get ahold of myself, I'm going to break a few arms. And maybe my hand. And I can't exactly finish Alex's back piece at nine a.m. tomorrow with broken fingers.
Em wraps her arms around Kaylee.
Kaylee laughs, pushing her long blond hair behind her ears and gathering it at one shoulder.
Her eyes flit around the room.
They catch mine.
They scream I'm about to wish for you to take me to your room.
Or maybe that's in my head.
Today is the day.
She's no longer a temptation that can get me locked up. Just a temptation that can rip away everything that matters to me.
Em leans in to whisper in her ear. I know my sister. I know exactly what she's saying. Wish for someone to fuck tonight.
Not happening.
Not as long as I'm here.
I hate to be a cunt-blocker, really, I do, but there's no way Kaylee is taking home anyone on my watch.
I have no idea how she's managed to stay single this long.
She's beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. And innocent... fuck, the way her cheeks are blushing.
The way she's leaning over the table, letting her eyelids fall together, parting her lips...
I could teach her so many things.
I could teach her everything.
But I can't.
She's my sister's best friend.
And as much as Em is a brat, she's all the family I've got.
These two are the most important people in my life.
My cock is going to have to cool it.
It's not getting anywhere near Kaylee.
I sit on the Kelly green deck chair, the one under the old lamp with the too yellow bulb.
Even though we're in one of the most crowded cities in Southern California, the beach is empty. Still. All the voices and laughter are coming from the house. The roar of the ocean isn't enough to muffle the party.
I should head inside and kick out Emma's friends. Insist on driving Kaylee back to her place. Lecture both of them about drinking too much.
But I'm not in the mood to play Dad today. I'm tired of playing Dad, period. Emma and I never got along, not exactly, but we used to have a rapport. We were a team. A you're annoying, but not quite as annoying as Mom or Dad team, but we were still a fucking team.
Now, the majority of my relationship is lecturing her and yelling some equivalent of go to your room.
And her yelling back you're not my dad.
I force myself to look out at the ocean.
It's beautiful. Dark water. Soft sand. Stars bright enough to shine against the black sky but dulled by light pollution all the same.
None of it distracts me.
None of the eight million things going on in my life distract me.
I need a way to get Kaylee out of my head. I've tried everything—work, play, other women, fucking myself, not fucking myself.
Nothing helps.
I pull out my sketchbook and flick my pen a few times. A few more. My warm up sketch is a messy abstract shape. It means something, I'm sure, but I don't have a clue what that is.
I turn the page. Outline the octopus going on Will's bicep tomorrow afternoon. Attempt to fill in the shading.
The details don't come. The only image in my mind is Kaylee. The brightness in her green eyes, the smile spreading over her pink lips, that coy hip tilt. Like she knows how badly I want my hands on those hips.
Like she's going to roll that dress up her thighs, plant her palms on the table, and shoot me a please, fuck me now look.
I don't need a tattoo mockup.
I need her naked in my bed.
"Hey." The side door slides open and Kaylee steps outside. Her steps aren't soft the way they normally are.
They're messy. Quick.
Her eyes are brighter than normal.
Bolder.
She sits on the lounge chair, next to me. Her thigh presses against mine. Her fingers skim the edges of my sketchbook.
She leans over my shoulder, pressing her chest against my arm, looking up at me with those doe eyes. "Can I see?"
Not the sketchbook. The shit I have in here, of her, will terrify her. Kaylee is sweet. Innocent. I haven't asked, but I'd bet—I have bet Dean—she's a virgin.
My cock rouses at the thought of being the first inside her. Fuck, my lips, my tongue, my fingers—every part of me wants to be her first.
Not happening.
"You looking for a nautical tattoo?" I shoot back.
Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "Maybe. What do you suggest?"
I drag my fingertips over her shoulder, drawing the shape that best suits her. It's a bad idea, touching her like this. It's doing shit to me.
And from the way her eyelids are pressing together and her lips are parting with a sigh, I'm pretty sure it's doing shit to her.
Fuck, I need a thousand cold showers.
Even if Kaylee wasn't Em's best friend, she's a sweet girl. Someone who deserves a nice guy. A guy who can give her a normal life. Not an asshole who destroys everything he touches.
Even so, I trace the outline of a would-be tattoo up to the tip of her shoulder. "A mermaid."
"I like it."
"I know. You've seen The Little Mermaid a thousand times."
"At least two thousand." She looks up at me. "What do you say? Right now? I'm finally old enough to sign the form."
"Okay." I take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Let's walk to the shop. One topless mermaid."
Her eyes go wide. She stammers, presses her toes together. The plastic of her heels clicks. Her teeth sink into her lip. "I, uh..."
"Hate having your bluff called?"
"No, I just... I need to think about it a little more."
"Bullshit." I can't help but smile. She's adorable flustered.
"No, just regular... uh... that isn't why I came out here."
I arch a brow.
She scoots toward me. It's a tiny movement. Soft. More like the Kaylee I know. The sober one.
"Well, it's my birthday." Her fingers curl around my wrist. "And I want a birthday kiss."
How about a birthday fuck? How about a birthday coming on my face until my lips are numb?
"I only give birthday spankings." My voice is steady even though my heart is pounding against my chest. Fuck, the thought of bending Kaylee over that table and—
"Okay." She presses her lips together. "Let's go. Right here, right now."
"You can handle eighteen?"
She nods.
She can't, but it's tempting anyway...
"Let's go, Brendon." She takes my hand and places it on her hip. Her eyes meet mine. They bore into mine. They demand every thought in my head. Or at least all the ones about stripping her naked. "Or did I call your bluff?"
"Bend over and plant your hands on the glass if you want to find out." She is calling my bluff. And now I'm calling hers.
Only this is one time—
My sister saves me from my filthy thoughts. She bounces out the door, throws her arms around Kaylee, and pulls her from her seat. "Stop hiding from all the guys at the party."
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