Dear Santa

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Dear Santa Page 57

by Lulu Pratt


  His words unleash a flood in my already damp panties, causing me to squirm.

  Unexpectedly, Andrew drags his lips across my navel, his tongue kissing my belly button as if he’s wanted to do it for centuries and the perfect opportunity finally presented itself.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  My hands move to his shoulders as he continues to diligently caress me with his tongue. His mouth is on my abdomen but every stroke goes directly to the aching juncture between my thighs.

  I don’t think I can take this. My thighs are trembling in his firm hold.

  “Your body is perfect,” he says when he finally drags his lips away for a moment.

  My clit pulsates so strongly that it’s nearly painful. Why does he have such a potent effect on me?

  “The perfect canvas,” he adds as he runs his large hands up and down the backs of my thighs.

  My mouth falls agape when his lips reappear at my belly only to drop down to the waistband of my panties. His teeth latch onto the material before he gives a good tug, but he doesn’t pull them down to reveal my mound.

  “I need to make you come,” he declares as if his life depends on it.

  If that isn’t the hottest thing someone’s ever said to me, I don’t know what is. My fingers dig into his shoulders just a little bit deeper.

  Fuck.

  His hands are everywhere, singeing me with their touch. Heat spreads throughout me at a rapid pace.

  “What kind of spell have you put on me?” he asks and blinks up at me, those beautiful eyes the perfect picture of lust.

  Inhaling sharply, my eyes roll back in my head when he tugs at my panties again, this time creating the most delicious friction between my legs.

  No other man has ever made me feel so desirable. However, Andrew’s earnest affections are making me come undone.

  I want him inside of me right this fucking moment. I need to feel his thickness stretching me to the limit. I need to feel the weight of his pelvis up against mine as we grind into each other.

  I’ve been deprived for far too long and I want to quench my thirst with Andrew Knight.

  I can’t take this torturous foreplay a second longer.

  “I can’t wait, Andrew.” When I push at his shoulders, he receives my message loud and clear before standing up to his full height.

  “Are you sure?” he asks me as he begins tugging at the hem of his shirt.

  I give a jerky nod as the article of clothing falls in a heap near his feet.

  For the first time, my eyes feast on the exposed masterpiece before me. Silky, tanned skin covers hard slabs of perfectly sculpted muscle. Tattoos cover his strong arms.

  His tight abdominal muscles yield to the tantalizing V-cut that disappears underneath his jeans. My mouth waters.

  The hardened ridges of his eight pack flex wondrously as he bends to remove his jeans.

  From the bulge at the front of his gray briefs, I can tell that he’s massive and ready for me.

  “Kiss me,” Andrew commands, beckoning me to him.

  I go easily, surprised that my legs still work at this point.

  Andrew’s kiss is passionate, his tongue waging war on my yearning mouth. As we kiss, he takes hold of my wrists and brings them to his waist. He places my hands at the waistband of his briefs before mirroring the action at my hips.

  Pulling down the material of my panties, he finally exposes me to him for the first time.

  With a deep breath, I slip my fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tug.

  Andrew drops his head so that his lips are brushing my ear and in a low voice says, “Tell me what you want, Lilah.”

  Twenty

  ANDREW

  “I want… I need you to take me,” she pleads in my ear.

  As soon as her request hits the air, my lips are on hers again. Stroking her tongue possessively, I intend to claim every inch of her from the inside out.

  Lilah throws her arms around my neck, pulling me closer. Finding a new resting place against her soft belly, my cock jumps between us, growing harder each second.

  Returning my lips to hers, my hands travel up and down the silky slopes of her heavenly curves.

  A throaty groan escapes her as my fingertips fondle her mound. Soft and pliant under my touch, Lilah opens her legs wider.

  Spurred on by her silent show of submission, I slip my fingers beyond her folds and seek out her clit. The nub is swollen and slick as I rub against it aggressively, my forefinger moving back and forth.

  “Yes,” Lilah hisses desperately.

  Loving her vocal response, I drop my middle finger lower and find her tight opening. A second later, my finger is buried inside as her wet walls clamp down around me.

  “You’re tight as fuck,” I growl.

  She has a death grip on my finger as her hips squirm, moving in a way to increase more friction.

  My envious erection thickens, dripping pre-cum from the tip and onto her stomach. Needing to loosen her up, I add another finger. As my fingers plunge in and out of her, my thumb flicks over her clit at a rapid pace.

  Around my back, her hands grip me tighter, her nails digging into my skin.

  “I’m coming,” Lilah pants before biting down on my shoulder.

  Painful pleasure shoots through me as her orgasm hits her head on. Slowly, I continue to drag my fingers in and out of her, prolonging her pleasure.

  “I want you to fuck me,” she growls lowly against my ear.

  “Whatever you want,” I concede before gathering her in my arms.

  Her bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, down a long hallway. An unnecessary journey, since there’s a sheet already spread beneath us.

  I drop to my knees and lay Lilah out before me. Her deep breaths expose her ribcage with every intake of air.

  Joining her on the sheet, I cover her body with mine and support myself on my forearms as I take in the desire flitting across her gorgeous features.

  She really is a work of art. A masterpiece.

  Her dark brown hair is fanned out around her shoulders, wild and unruly. Her round cheeks are a rosy red and her round tits are on full display.

  As my tongue teases her nipples, her hands find my hair. Tugging lightly, she makes her next throaty request. Her words are strained as she tells me exactly what she wants.

  “I want to feel you, all of you.”

  Lilah’s lush legs fall open. I quickly roll on a condom. A moment later, I sink into the opening between them. When my cock brushes against her slit, she whimpers lowly.

  The sound does something to me. Heat slices through my groin and makes me greedy for her.

  “Tell me what you want,” I command gruffly, needing to hear it again. I’m barely holding on to my control but I rein it in, mindful of the fact that she hasn’t been with anyone in a while.

  The fact that she’s trusting me with her body isn’t lost on me. And the need to show her I’m worthy drives me to make this experience as special as possible for her.

  “I want you inside of me,” she moans, kissing me hungrily.

  Her hips move frantically to bring our body parts in contact and I swear at the way her drenched opening lubricates my shaft.

  Lilah’s shallow breaths are the only sound present in the room.

  Pumping my cock, I am more than prepared to give her what she wants.

  At her opening, I’m met with resistance.

  Fuck, she’s even tighter than I thought.

  I know I’m bigger than most. That coupled with her prolonged hiatus from intercourse is proving to be one hell of a combination.

  Pushing forward, I try again to get a little further this time. But not by much.

  Beneath me, Lilah tenses a little from the discomfort.

  Fire flashes in her eyes, then she stops fighting.

  With each breath, I feel her body relaxing beneath mine. Not giving her time to tense again, I plunge forward in one swift motion.

  “Oh, fuck!” Lilah cries ou
t in surprise.

  I’m buried to the hilt, stretching her wide so that her walls will accommodate me when I begin moving.

  Her pussy is wrapped around me so snuggly that it’s like fucking a virgin. Lust trickles down my spine as I get acquainted with the feeling.

  “You’re so big,” she whimpers, her small fists clenching at my chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Kissing her, I capture her next utterances in my mouth. Then I pull out and slam back into her. Her walls grip me tightly, making it damn near impossible to take things slowly. She feels too good.

  Again, I pull out until just the tip is resting inside of her.

  “Do you trust me?” I want to know, staring down into her dark eyes.

  “Yes,” she pants, nodding shakily as sweat begins to coat her skin.

  “Good,” I respond back before pushing inside of her again. Increasing the pace, my movements grow fevered as she gradually begins to welcome my plunges more passionately.

  Moving in and out of her rapidly, I get lost in everything that is Lilah. She feels better than any woman has the right to.

  We find our rhythm and grind against each other, in and out, up and down. The friction is dizzying.

  She’s whimpering beneath me, begging me to go harder and faster. The round globes of Lilah’s tits bounce up and down steadily.

  I don’t know if minutes or hours have passed when I feel the tightening at the pit of my stomach. Heat spreads through me, threatening to erupt as I pound into the tightness of her pussy.

  As if she can sense I’m nearing my peak, Lilah’s actions beneath me grow wild. Lifting her hips off the floor, she meets every downward thrust of mine with one of her own until we’re both breathless and quaking around each other as our climaxes shatter us.

  “Fuck!” we cry out in unison, overcome by the euphoric release.

  It’s the hardest I’ve ever come in my life. I empty every last drop of my seed before leaving a kiss against her forehead. Exhausted, I splay out on the sheet beside her.

  “That was fucking incredible,” I tell her with a disbelieving chuckle as I stare up at the ceiling. When I don’t get an immediate response, my pride is almost wounded until I see that she’s already fast asleep.

  Unbelievable.

  ***

  A few hours later, I awaken in Lilah’s bed. The room is still shrouded in darkness telling me the hour is still early.

  Lilah is asleep quietly beside me. She’s been out like a light since I carried her in here after our erotic episode in the living room.

  Sitting up, I drag a hand down the side of my face and swear under my breath.

  I can’t believe I fell asleep in her bed.

  I’ve never slept in anyone’s bed but my own and always alone. I don’t do sleepovers. But my rules had conveniently escaped me last night.

  What the hell happened?

  I’m supposed to be playing a role, but it seems like the lines have become blurred.

  Fuck.

  Glancing down at her, her peaceful expression tightens my chest.

  I need to get the fuck out of here.

  Hopping out of the bed, I don’t spare a backwards glance as I make my way to the living room.

  I’m dressed in less than a minute and snatch up my keys. Before I can change my mind, I open the front door and leave.

  Twenty-one

  LILAH

  An indulgent smirk is already on my face before I even open my eyes. My exhausted body is wonderfully achy in all the right places. And the deep slumber I just woke up from is proof that I was beyond satisfied before drifting off to sleep.

  In a word, last night was incredible. Andrew is the most unselfish lover I’ve ever had. Rough yet gentle, demanding yet accommodating. He’s literally everything I never knew I needed in a lover.

  And, oh my God, the man is packing. It felt like I was being ripped apart in the most delightful way.

  Opening my eyes, I stare up at the ceiling with the same lazy smile in place. Why had I tried so hard to fight what was happening between us?

  Rolling over, I fully intend to wake his sleeping frame beside me and demand a repeat of last night even if I do feel a little tender between my legs. However, when I stretch my arm in that direction, cool sheets rub up against me instead of a warm body.

  A frown wipes away the smile on my lips. Sitting up, I look around the room bleary eyed and see no trace of him in the room.

  Throwing back the covers, I walk over to my bathroom. No Andrew.

  The kitchen and living room garner the same results. No Andrew.

  His clothes and shoes are gone, too.

  “Where the hell is he?”

  I search the countertops for a note or any scrap of evidence that last night wasn’t a figment of my imagination. There is no note, but I would have found that out of character for him. I come up empty.

  Ignoring the sinking feeling invading my gut, I traipse back to my bedroom and pick up my phone.

  There are only a few missed texts from Charli, but nothing from Andrew. Tossing my phone on the bed, I accept the writing that’s bleeding down the wall.

  He left.

  But why?

  It doesn’t matter why. What matters is that he got what he wanted and left.

  That’s a tough pill to swallow. So tough, in fact, that it forms a stupid lump in my throat that makes it impossible to go down.

  In the bathroom, I stand in front of my vanity and study myself from head to toe. I don’t look any different on the outside but last night definitely changed me.

  I’ve never been so consumed by desire and passion. It was earth shattering. The most incredible experience of my life. My first taste of true bliss. And maybe my last.

  My eyes trail lower, past the red marks on my collarbone and landing on my erect nipples. Just thinking about last night has me wound up and ready to go. That is until my eyes reach the blue paint on my thighs.

  A blue so similar to the ones staring into my own last night. A blue that had a calming effect on me last night. But now it just drudges up regret and the desire to scrub away every single memory.

  ***

  After a painfully uneventful day at the office, I’m finally headed home. I think of stopping by the store on my way home to pick up some wine, but ultimately decide against it.

  I think my poor liver deserves a break from all the cheap alcohol it’s endured over the summer.

  Traffic is surprisingly light despite the hour as I navigate my car to my apartment building on the outskirts of town.

  I try my absolute best not to focus on the fact that it’s after five and I haven’t heard a peep from Andrew all day.

  It’s so unlike him. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe he’d just been playing a role to get in my pants. Maybe now that he’s gotten what he wanted, he no longer needs to contact me. Maybe this was his plan all along.

  Bitter bile rises in the back of my throat as I berate myself for being so naïve. Of course this is what he wanted. A man like Andrew is used to things going his way.

  I presented a temporary obstacle and he pulled out all the stops until his goal was achieved.

  Feeling cheap and used, I let myself into my apartment just as my phone begins ringing.

  All those thoughts are immediately tossed aside as I frantically search through my bag to find the ringing device.

  But Andrew’s name is not the one glaring back at me. Nope. It’s my mom making her weekly check-in call from Tampa.

  Great.

  Don’t get me wrong. I love my mom to death, but I’m not in any condition to have an upbeat conversation with her right now and convince her that my life is all peachy keen.

  However, I know if I don’t answer she’ll just keep calling and leaving voicemails until I eventually pick up.

  “Hi Mom,” I greet after the fourth ring.

  “Lilah, darling, I was afraid I was going to have to leave a voicemail. What are you up to, dear?” she asks in one long cheerful breat
h.

  I certainly didn’t inherit my testy demeanor from my mom. She’s all sunshine and rainbows. Florida is the perfect place for her.

  “I’m just getting home for the evening. How are you, Mom?”

  “Oh, well you know me. No complaints as long as I have air in my lungs.”

  Well, she has a point there.

  I’ve never known my mom to complain or dwell on negativity. I’m aware that I could really learn a thing or two from her. But easier said than done, right?

  Kicking off my shoes, I head for the kitchen to retrieve a nice tall glass of ice chips. Yes, my air conditioner has been fixed for a few days now, but I need something to take the edge off.

  “What have you been up to this week? Any new projects around the house?” I ask, knowing her love for DIY projects and gardening has no bounds.

  “Well, since you asked…”

  She goes on to tell me about the most beautiful petunias she picked up at the nursery today. As she goes on and on about finding the perfect place to plant them, I’m thankful for the mindless chatter.

  I put her on speaker and change out of my work clothes into a pair of stretchy yoga pants and a sports bra. I’m piling my hair on top of my head when she asks a question that throws me off balance.

  “So, are you dating anyone?” she probes, her already chipper voice taking on a sing-song quality.

  My mind instantly lands on Andrew and the last couple of weeks we’ve shared together.

  He even told me I was his, so why am I feeling discarded?

  Taking in another mouthful of ice, I give my mom an answer that’s as close to the truth as I can manage.

  “Not really.”

  Thankfully, it’s enough for her because she moves on to the next topic of discussion.

  “God, I miss your crazy self!” I tell her laughingly after she’s finished telling me yet another story about her flighty next-door neighbor.

  “Oh, I miss you too, honey. It’s a shame you won’t be able to make it down here this summer,” she laments sadly.

  Guilt stings my eyes with unshed tears. As crazy as this summer is turning out, I could really use one of her hugs right about now. My road trip plans had fallen by the wayside when I took on this assignment with Edward.

 

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