Mistletoe Over Missoula

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Mistletoe Over Missoula Page 7

by Ellen G Kelley


  I was done resisting. I met his lips with the hunger I had been trying to lock down all night. Hell, probably for two years now. I slid my tongue past his lips and took what I wanted. I wanted this man like I wanted my next breath. My hands reached for his chest as his body hovered over me. I slid them up to his shoulders and endeavored to slide his suit jacket off. Harris pulled back from our kiss.

  “Becca, tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll stop,” he gasped out.

  “I can’t tell you that.” I looked up at him and continued to slide his jacket off. I tossed it to the side and rose up to clasp his puzzled face in my hands. “I can’t tell you that I don’t want you, Harris,” I said as I went to work on his shirt buttons. “Because you and I both know that I’d be lying.”

  I undid the first few buttons of his shirt while he lost his tie. I pressed forward from my seated position and used my advantage to pin him between my legs. With his chiseled chest exposed to me, I took my time kissing every available inch. His collar-bones. The thick cords of muscle on his upper arms. His chest His neck. I savored all of it.

  An almost primal groan radiated from Harris, followed by the sensation of his arms circling me. Strong fingers slid under my dress and dug into my back-side. He tugged me flush to his body and dove into my lips like a man possessed. All pretense was gone. This was honesty in its purest form being passed between our bodies. Our mouths tangled together until the passion building was too much.

  Sprained ankle be damned!

  I wrapped my legs around him, and he lifted me from the couch. I felt his sculpted back flex under my hands as he laid us both down on the rug in front of the giant fireplace. There in the glow of the fire and the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree–I stared up at the most stunning man on Earth. Beneath him, I felt safe. His eyes roamed my body with adoration. I had never felt more treasured.

  Reclaiming his position between my legs, his hands halted as he began sliding my dress up. “How’s your ankle? I don’t want to hurt you, Baby,” he asked, suddenly concerned for my well-being. I placed my hands on top of his and rose to a sitting position in front of him.

  Again I couldn’t think. I couldn’t find a single word to speak to him. I decided to show him instead. My eyes never broke contact with his until I had managed to slide my glittery gold garment completely up my body and over my head. The low back of the dress made wearing a bra impossible. I was seated on the fur rug in front of him covered only by the lacy nude thong I wore.

  His breath hitched, and I could see his jaw tick at the sight of my naked body. Taking his hands in mine, I brought one to my mouth and laid a kiss on his palm before nuzzling into him. The other hand I placed atop my breast. His fingers wasted no time. He squeezed appreciatively, and I instantly hardened beneath his touch. With that one act, the dam of emotions that had separated us broke. I went to work relieving him of his shirt, and he rewarded me with a deep kiss.

  I moaned into his mouth at the exact moment my fingers reached his belt buckle. My fingers became clumsy as they struggled to free the part of him I could no longer do without. He might be a patient man, but patience was not one of my virtues. I growled in frustration and was reduced to speaking one-word sentences at him.

  “Off.” It was the only word I could get out. Again, my comment was met with the familiar rumble of his laughter. Harris didn’t argue with me, though. He rose up to his knees and gave me a heated stare as his nimble fingers slowly went to work on his belt.

  He’s teasing me! Well, two can play at that game.

  As he slid his zipper down at a painfully slow pace, I took it upon myself to slip my thumbs under the thin fabric of my thong. If he was going to tease me, well then I was going torture him. I watched as his face shifted from playful to hungry when my finger began to tug my panties down my thighs. I was now completely bare before him. He didn’t waste any more time with his striptease. It seems I had provided the right incentive. His arousal sprang forward as he made haste removing the last remaining barrier between us. I think I may have actually licked my lips as I watched him stroke his enormous manhood.

  Is there a size bigger than Magnum? Suddenly, I had to wonder. Because I was staring at the biggest…Umm. The most well-endowed man I had ever seen. Seriously, he was huge!

  Drinking in his beautiful-incredibly male body–I actually felt my stomach tremble with excitement. I had no idea how or even if, my body would be able to accommodate a man of his size. I was about to find out. I eased back down until I was once again lying on the plush fur rug. Before joining me, Harris–ever the attentive gentleman-retrieved the pillow that had been used to cradle my ankle and placed it under my head.

  He positioned himself above me, an arm on either side, with his elbows carrying the brunt of his weight. I stroked his back in pleasure as he planted kisses on my neck. Then down my collar bone. Then further still. He took my plump breast into his mouth–laving the hardened bud, sucking every last remnant of my doubt away with the act. I was sorry when Harris turned his attentions from my breast and continued his journey south.

  WAY south.

  The feel of his breath on my hip bone sent both a thrill and a tinge of self-consciousness up my spine. Back arched in anticipation, my hands dug into the fur rug. Sensing my need, he braced my hips with his large hands and placed his hot tongue on my inner thigh. His mouth carved a path up to where my legs parted leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hands slipped lower until they were almost cupping my bottom. That’s when his perfect mouth descended fully. That hot mouth and talented tongue were lapping up every last drop of my arousal. I was more than moaning. I was crying out in complete rapture. His tongue circled my sensitive bud at the same time he slowly began to ease two fingers into my channel.

  “Harris!” I gasped his name and raised one of my hands to his head. Stroking and gripping his hair to steady myself. It had been a while, but, I didn’t recall ever being this sensitive with my ex. It’s like Harris’ body was perfectly attuned to mine. He seemed to know just what my body needed before my body even knew it needed anything.

  “Hmm. Say it again,” he rumbled as he looked up at me.

  “What?” My brain was scrambled.

  Enjoying my lust-filled confusion, Harris crawled up my body. When he reached my neck, he spoke again through a peppering of kisses. “Say my name again, Becca.” As if to persuade me to respond he reached down with his fingers and stroked me deeply while his mouth nibbled my ear.

  “H… Harris.” I writhed beneath him as the pressure built.

  “You are so tight, Becca,” he whispered. “So tight. And so beautiful.” He slid his magic fingers deeper. Seeking my elusive G-spot. I didn’t even know if I had one. That is until his fingers slide home and found it.

  “Oh my God!” I huffed out. I was panting now. If the man could do this with his fingers, I couldn’t wait to see what he could do once he filled me with something else. I was inching closer and closer to the edge. My hips bucked against his hand. My entire body was strung as tight as a guitar string. If I was an instrument now, then he was playing my body to perfection. And I loved it.

  Before I could fall over the edge, he eased his fingers back. “Not yet, Baby.” He eased back, and I heard the sound of him retrieving something from his pants pocket. When I managed to pry my eyes open as I lay there trying to come down, I watched him tear the condom wrapper and my eyes moved down his body to witness him working the latex down his massive shaft. Again, I was pretty sure I licked my lips at the thought having him inside me.

  With the condom in place, Harris positioned his body over mine. Holding his weight on his elbows, his hands slid under my back until they were cradling my neck and shoulders from underneath. He wasn’t even in me yet, and I was panting from anticipation. He kissed me again and rubbed the large head of his erection at my entrance. Through ragged breath and between desire-drenched kisses, he said, “Baby, I want us to come together the first tim
e.” He nudged me again. This time the large head–slick from my juices–slid inside my entrance. The sensation spurred a sharp intake of breath from us both. He was very big and my body was reminding me that two years is a long time to avoid intimate contact.

  “God, Baby. You are so…” He moved back and then forward, inching inward a little deeper. “Ahh! You’re so tight.”

  “You’re a little…” he repeated the action gaining more depth. “Ahhh…I mean you’re…” I was so wet he slid farther with each slow thrust. “OH GOD! You’re not little. Ahh!” Again, he was playing with me. He wasn’t even all the way inside me, and I was about ready to blow.

  Harris smiled down at me after rewarding me with another one of his kisses. There were no more words. We didn’t need them. He pulled back a little and slid forward–our eyes never leaving each other’s. He repeated the motion again. Back and, then forward farther. Each time he worked himself deeper inside of me. His brow creased, and my body tensed with trying to accommodate his girth. Then he eased back one more time and with a deep breath pushed forward with a growl until all of him was seated deep in my channel. A loud moan was forced out me of when he finally hit bottom.

  I didn’t realize that I had closed my eyes-squeezing them so tight I could see stars. In between short breaths, he stroked my shoulders and whispered to me, “Baby. Look at me.” My eyelids felt heavy as I complied. “I want to see you,” he slid almost all the way back before gliding back in. My hands clawed at his hips in a show of approval.

  I had never felt more complete. I liked the way our bodies fit together. I loved the way he looked at me as he thrust himself in and out. I relished feeling every pulse that surged through him when I uttered his name and clenched around him.

  “Harris! Oh…ahh,” I panted. “Don’t stop.”

  “Never…” Thrust. “I’ll never stop, Becca.” Thrust.

  “Say that again. Ahh!” I squeezed his ass and pulled him as close to me as I could. “Say my name.”

  God he felt like heaven!

  “Becca.” He thrust harder now. “My Becca.” He thrust and kissed my mouth. “Mine.” He practically growled as he slammed into me sending a shiver of delight up my spine. I rolled my hips to get more contact and was greeted with a delicious moan from Harris.

  Suddenly, I was right back on that ledge. The fire that had begun slowly was a raging inferno threatening to consume us both. I exhaled his name on virtually every breath. Each thrust bringing me, closer to my release.

  “Say. You’re. Mine. Becca.” He struggled to speak through the new rhythm of our bodies. I could barely breathe much less speak. He slowed his pace–holding my orgasm just out of reach-as if he needed to hear the words before reaching the end.

  “Yours…I’m yours, Harris.” Thrust. “Only yours.” Thrust.

  I was about to fall over the edge, but I didn’t want to go alone. “Harris, I’m so close…” My breath was sharp. “Come for me, Harris.” Thrust. “Come with me!”

  My words pushed us both over the edge. He roared my name and pushed home again and again. I was flying, and every single thrust, and pulse, and throb just pushed me higher.

  The only sound was our ragged breaths mingling. The only thing I saw was the adoring gaze of the man above me. The only thing I felt was perfect.

  Perfectly spent.

  Perfectly satiated.

  Perfect.

  Chapter 12

  I don’t recall wanting anything as much as I wanted to keep the sensation of Harris inside me. After a long pause, he reluctantly withdrew to dispose of the condom. I missed the fullness. But, I did enjoy the view of his backside as he disposed of the Latex. He returned and settled into my side, pulling me close to him. We were spooning in front of a roaring fire beneath the merry glow of the Christmas tree.

  Tell me that doesn’t sound like the stuff romance novels are made of.

  I probably could have drifted off into sleep had it not been for the feel of his lips at the base of my neck and his hands gently stroking my arms. Loving the feel of him and needing more, I twisted in his arms to face him.

  “Damn. You are handsome.” I said.

  I think I could stare at him all day.

  “And you, Becca Morris, take my breath away.”

  “You certainly have a way with words.”

  “I should hope so. Otherwise, I’m in the wrong business.” We giggled together as we lay in each other’s arms. In the background, a clock from somewhere in the suite struck midnight.

  “I didn’t realize it was so late,” I said, feeling unexpectedly sleepy.

  He nuzzled closer and hummed his content. “Hmm. You know what that means.”

  “I’ve earned some sleep?” I teased.

  “That too. But, not yet. It means that it is officially Christmas Eve.” He said with a smile that showed no signs of being at all tired. “A tradition for me has always been to open one gift on Christmas Eve.” He sat up and pulled me into a sitting position. He then retrieved the box that had been delivered for me and placed it in my hands.

  “Not fair.” I grimaced a bit. “I don’t have anything to give you.” It has been a long time since I exchanged gifts with anyone. I couldn’t help feel a little guilty opening a present when I didn’t have anything to give to him.

  Cupping my face and kissing my lips he attempted to ease my guilt. “Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.”

  “That’s a Mariah Carey song.”

  “It’s also true. You’re all I want. All I’ve ever wanted.” He planted another quick kiss on my lips. “Will you make my night and open your gift?”

  “If you knew you were going to see me at the party, why did you hire a delivery guy.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? Quit stalling, Becca. Come on. Open it.” He sure did like the holidays. His enthusiasm for my reaction gave him away. I wasted no time tearing into the gift wrap. I have never been one of the tediously slow gift openers. No, sir! I loved the sound of wrapping paper tearing and the mess of ribbons and paper left in the living room.

  The loss of gift wrap revealed a jewelry box. Not the size of a ring box, though.

  Thank God!

  The man was amazing, but there was no way I would be at all prepared for that. It was more like a necklace case. I looked up at Harris for encouragement, and he nodded with excitement. I opened it, and my eyes stung with the tears that lingered in the corners.

  In the case was a delicate gold chain with a simple but elegant pendant in the shape of the Eiffel Tower. Paris. I had always wanted to go. For years, I had dreamt of seeing everything Europe had to offer, but Paris was always number one on my list. I had been saving for years to make the trip. I had planned to surprise my ex with tickets. That is, until he surprised me by cheating. After that, there was no time. And every dime I had saved went to covering all the responsibilities he left me with.

  “You remembered.” I couldn’t help the single tear of joy that streaked down my cheek. “Harris. It’s beautiful. This means so much to me. Thank you.”

  “I thought it would go well with these.” He handed me the envelope I saw earlier. I squinted at him questioningly and took the envelope. Reaching inside, I pulled out two first-class tickets to Paris. They were dated for today. My startled green eyes sought out his baby-blue stare seeking confirmation.

  “I want to give you the world, Becca. I figured we could start with Christmas in Paris.” He shrugged. “That is if you’ll go with me.” He looked at me so full of hope and love. How could I ever say no to him?

  “Say it again,” I said.

  “Which part exactly?” He responded with amusement.

  “All the mushy Notebook-esc awesomeness you threw down in the coat closet.” I don’t know why I needed to hear it again. Maybe because now I was finally ready to listen. He pulled me into his lap and I eagerly straddled him. He was still hard as hell and I could feel his tip lightly nudge my entrance. He folded my arms around his neck and retrieved the necklac
e from the box. Fastening the clasp around my neck, his practiced hands then slid down to the small of my back. It was only then that he spoke the words I wanted to hear.

  “Becca Morris, I am fully, hopelessly, endlessly in love with everything about you. You are my Eiffel Tower. My world. My future. You are everything to me.” He stroked my hair back and kissed away the tears that were now streaming. “I want you by my side now and for always. Will you be my Christmas miracle? Will you give me a chance to show you how much I love you?”

  “Oh…you’re good,” I teased through my tears of joy.

  “I’m ready to show you just how good I can be. Again.” He teased my entrance with his erection. “But, I need an answer first.”

  I reached for my purse and pulled out one of the condoms. Holding it my teeth I gave Harris my best come hither stare and gritted out. “Yes.”

  He snatched the condom from my mouth and kissed me deeply and with abandon.

  “Yes, what?” He was fishing for more.

  Fair enough.

  “Yes, to Christmas. Yes, to Paris. Yes, to all of it. Yes. A thousand times, and for always…yes.”

  I kissed him back with everything I had. His hands went to work sheathing his considerable length as my tongue went to work on his mouth. Next, two large hands lifted my hips and then pulled me down onto his length: inch by incredible inch. My head snapped back. Both as a reflex to his entry and the extreme fullness that followed. He reached back with one hand on my neck and one fixed to my back–embracing me with every thrust upward.

  “Say it.” He panted out the words as he ground his hips into mine.

  “I’m yours, Harris.” Thrust.

  “I’ve always been yours.” Thrust.

  “I’ll always be yours.”

  Before responding and without leaving my channel, he laid me back down in front of the fire. He never missed a beat. He kissed me quickly before raising up to look me in the eyes.

  “Good answer.” Thrust.

  “We have five hours before we have to be on a plane.” Thrust.

 

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