Their Christmas Miracle: A collection of spicy xxx-mas tales

by Fox, Logan

  Elle’s eyes fluttered closed. She couldn’t take it — looking into his dark eyes. Her body was starting to come alive beneath him, thrumming in places where she couldn’t remember feeling alive in a very long time.

  “What were you going to do then? If you weren’t going to—” Elle had to force the word out “—fuck me at the shop?”

  Blake’s hand disappeared from her chin. He grabbed her breast, hard and unexpectedly, through the soft sweater molded over it. Elle’s eyes flashed open as she moaned — half in surprise, half in pleasure. Blake’s nostrils flared at that sound, and he ground into her until the air left her lungs and her shoulder blades dug into the wall behind her.

  That hand dragged down, scraping over her skin, building up folds of soft fabric that sprang back a second later.

  “I brought you back here, of course. Where there’s a couch.” His mouth moved to her ear. “My bed.”

  Elle tried to suppress a shiver, failed. Her hands, still around his neck, tightened reflexively as she dug her fingertips into his hair.

  God, why wouldn’t he kiss her? Her lips tingled furiously, longing for him to end their expectant suffering. But instead, he hovered by her ear, that rough, grating voice stirring a few strands of hair against her lobe.

  “All the better to fuck you on, a bed.”

  A fingertip disappeared behind the waistband of her sweats. Elle went rigid, her eyes flashing open.

  Black watched her, a small smile on his mouth. “Because I planned to fuck you hard, sweetheart.” Another finger, teasing the smooth skin above her pubic bone. “Hard and relentless.”

  He twisted his wrist, his palm now flat against her belly. His hand slid down, his fingertips approaching her clit with the speed and urgency of a ferry.

  “Until you beg me to stop.” He teased the small patch of curls — damp and warm — sending a slow thrill through her.

  “Don’t stop,” Elle murmured. She was struggling to keep her eyes open. They wanted to close, wanted to let her lose herself in this erotic slice of time that she hoped would last forever. She’d meant what she’d said, earlier; she didn’t know this man. Had never met him before today. But she was drawn to him, just like he seemed drawn to her. For him, perhaps because he recognized her pain, the torture-cage her mind had been trapped in the past few months. For her… because he gave her hope. That there was an end to the misery, somewhere along the line. And end to the unfailing mantra of self-criticism spilling into her mind night after night. Questions of, ‘was it me?’, ‘did I do something wrong?’

  Three fingertips dragged over her clit. Elle gasped, her eyes finally falling closed. Blake drew his hand down, cupping her, squeezing her hard. She went onto her tiptoes, her head digging into the wall behind her as she bucked into Blake’s body.

  She felt him respond, felt his dick hardening in his jeans. And that made her own body begin a faint, internal quivering.

  One finger dipped inside her, popping out almost immediately.

  Testing her.

  Feeling if she was ready.

  Ready for him to fuck.

  Blake

  Blake groaned. His jaw jutted out as he crushed his cock against Elle’s body. Could she feel how hard she was making him just by standing here and letting him finger her?

  And God, was she wet. And not shower-damp wet… she was the lube-slick wet of want, her body ready — fucking eager — for him.

  It took a monumental effort for him to not just grab her, drag her to the bed, and tug down those sweats. To expose her to him, so he could slide into her and have her moaning his name.

  If she was the kind of woman that did that of course — not everyone was big on screaming out their lover’s name.

  But he’d been serious about the foreplay. About the experience. He didn’t know if he’d ever see Elle again. If she’d ever again open up to him and bare her most sacred sanctums to his exploratory touch.

  He’d have to make the most of it. Have to make her want this again. And too soon for logic. Make her want him too overwhelming for reason to override it. He wanted her to need him. Because then she’d come back.

  He should have said something charming to break the tension wrapping its tight fingers around them. But, instead, he just kissed her.

  Elle moaned against his mouth. She moved her hips forward, trying to urge his finger deeper inside her. But he drew it out instead, ran his fingertips over her pussy, and made sure to kiss her until she was breathless and incapable of resisting him.

  Sliding a hand under her sweater, he gripped her breast, making her nipple go hard between his fingers. She arched her back so that her breast filled his hand. It was large, large enough that he wanted to use both hands to cup it. But that would mean leaving that nest of warmth between her legs, and he was loathe to do that just yet.

  “Thing is,” Blake said, breaking off their kiss and moving his mouth to her ear. “I haven’t quite decided where I want to fuck you yet.”

  Elle shivered, moaned again, and tried bucking her hips forward. He squeezed her, demanding her to be still. She obeyed — a trifle hesitantly — and gazed up at him with wide, expectant blue eyes.

  “There’s the bed, of course…” Blake glanced at it, then back at her.

  She stared at the bed, her lips slowly parting. Blake slid two fingers inside her pussy, slowly forcing them in as deep as they could go. Watching her face. Watching as her eyes flickered and her lips twitched.

  “I could fuck you all sorts of ways on there.”

  “Yes,” came her murmured response. “There.”

  “You’re sure?” He brought his thumb up, pressing it to her clit.

  Elle shuddered deeply. Her hands untangled from his hair, slid down his chest, and began tugging at his belt. He released her breast and grabbed her wrists in a hand. Drew them up, held them over her head against the wall. Slid a third finger in to join the other two.

  She groaned, her body dipping down as if her legs weren’t capable of supporting her. Her legs clamped closed around his hand, as if she was trying to urge his fingers deeper inside her.

  “Not the couch? Bent over the kitchen counter? The floor?”

  Each additional suggestion drew a new shiver from her. But she shook her head at each, her eyes flaring open at the last.

  “The floor?” Her voice was breathlessly indignant.

  Blake cocked his head. “Could be fun.”

  “The floor?” This time, with a narrowing of her eyes.

  “Okay, not the floor. But the couch is definitely—”

  “The bed,” Elle said, voice more forceful than he’d heard it before. “Now.” And then, as if realizing how petulant she sounded, she added, “Please.”

  “So polite,” Blake murmured. “Hmmm… but I’m not sure, Elle. You’re so wet. So ready for me—”

  Elle moaned as he thrust his fingers hard into her, his thumb applying more pressure to her clit.

  “I could have you right here. Against the wall.”

  Her eyes flew open. Her body went rigid, as if just the thought of him fucking her against the wall had nearly sent her over the edge.

  That thought almost made him do it. Blake slid his fingers free and had her sweats tugged down around her ass before he could stop himself. Elle spread her legs for him, for all the world as if expecting him to slap out his cock and shove it in her.

  He watched her again for a moment, considering. But no. He wasn’t done with her yet.

  Not that she had to know that.

  “Mmm.” He tugged down the sweats to her knees, staring down at her. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed, her sex small and compact — nothing more than a slit that disappeared into the darkness between her legs. “Would you look at that?”

  Elle squirmed then, and tried to draw her knees closed. Blake slid his legs between hers, shimmying his feet apart and forcing her legs even wider.

  “Blake—” her voice was almost panicked.

  He tightened the grip
around her wrists, pressing her hands into the wall above her. Forcing his eyes up, away from that tantalizing triangle of honey-blond curls, he kissed her again.

  That, at least, seemed to quell her protests.

  Elle

  Elle tried to draw her legs closed again. It was impossible, what with the brute’s rough jeans in the way. He was kissing her, trying to distract her from the moment, but it wasn’t working this time. She felt so very exposed. Embarrassed. Vulnerable. All she wanted to do was for him to take her to his bed, slide them under the sheets, and get on top of her. Why couldn’t he just do that? Why did it have to be here, in the open, against the wall?

  Another squirm did nothing but make the man tighten his grip around her wrists. She tried another “Blake,” but the word disappeared between their mouths without a hint that he’d even heard her.

  This was a bad idea. What was she doing, pressed up against a stranger’s—?

  Blake drew back. His eyes flickered between hers, his expression unreadable. He brought her wrists down, to her waist. Pressed them to her stomach. And slowly, without breaking eye contact, Blake lowered himself to his knees.

  Elle’s eyes widened. “No—!”

  But his mouth was already touching her clit. Her breathless protest dissolved. Her head banged into the wall as she arched her back and bucked her hips, grinding herself against Blake’s warm lips and spearing tongue.

  Flickers of bone-deep ecstasy thrilled through her. Her hands, completely of their own doing, slid into his hair. Her legs parted, knees dipping down so she was angled perfectly against Blake’s mouth.

  His hands slid under thighs. He hoisted her legs over his shoulders, making her cry out in surprise as she lost her balance. Her one hand slapped against the wall behind her, the other tightening in Blake’s hair. With her shoulders now flush with the wall, she had her balance back, but with her legs hooked around Blake’s shoulders, she had no choice but to spread them wide and let him lick and nip and kiss his wanton way over her pussy until he tired of it.

  Or she came.

  Which, judging from the throes of pleasure that tongue of his induced through her, would be any second now.

  She heard herself moaning. Loudly. But was completely unable to moderate the volume. Her eyes were glued shut. Her legs trembled. Her core ached and throbbed as Blake’s tongue darted inside her, tasting her.

  Whatever reservations she’d had earlier vanished. His nose kept brushing her clit. That tongue, so warm and surprisingly hard, teased her as speared shallowly inside her. The hand in his hair tightened. Blake glanced up at her, perhaps wondering if this was a signal.

  She stared down at him, her mouth open and her breasts heaving as she tried to draw breath. He smiled at her, his eyes growing crow’s feet in the corners as that smile deepened. He drew back for a moment, flashing teeth at her, and then slid his fingers inside her.

  From her vantage point, she could see them going inside her. Elle shuddered, forced her eyes to stay open. It was a mesmerizing display — this man she’d known for less than two hours, maybe three, on his knees in front of her. His fingers inside her.

  He leaned forward again, his tongue darting out to lick her clit. Elle groaned deeply, her body jerking at that touch. She kicked her heels into Blake’s back, released his hair, and put her other palm on the wall behind her too.

  And, ever so slowly so she wouldn’t lose her balance again, Elle began riding him. He kept sliding those fingers — Two? Three? — inside her, timing them perfectly with the rhythmic flicker of his tongue over her clit.

  They both knew she was coming seconds before she did.

  Her breath hitched, catching loudly in her throat. She pressed the back of her head into the wall, arching her back and clamping her thighs around Blake’s head. Trapping him. Making sure he didn’t pull away or waver. His fingers pumped furiously. His tongue massaged hard against her clit.

  Elle cried out, “Blake!” at the peak of her climax.

  The sound echoed in the large room, bouncing back to her.

  She started, jolting away from his mouth as a wave of thunderous pleasure ebbed back, beaching her on an island of euphoria. He grinned up at her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Kissing the inside of her thigh, he dragged his thumb down her sex and slowly slid her legs from his shoulders before standing.

  “Did you just scream my name?” he asked with that same wide smile still on his mouth.

  Elle blinked at him, shook her head. “I… I don’t know where—”

  “That’s perfectly fine with me, sweetheart,” Blake said.

  His hands grabbed her naked waist, and spun her around. She let out a surprised gasp, but that cut off when he kicked her legs open and stuck those magical fingers inside her again.

  She crooned at him, her hands against the wall like he was searching her for contraband.

  “This time, I want the fucking neighbors to hear.”

  VI

  Taking Elle

  Blake

  Blake stared down at Elle’s ass. With her legs spread-eagled as they were, each cheek formed a perfect mound of flesh for him to grab. So he did. And he massaged them, too. Elle murmured unintelligible words to him as he slid his thumbs between those halves of flesh, and touched her taint, sliding down to her pussy.

  Shit, he wanted to be inside her so badly. His cock was aching painfully, throbbing in its need to be let out his jeans. To be forced into her.

  He could smell her, could still taste her. It had been intoxicating, her arousal filling his mouth when she came. Her legs clamping so tightly around his head. He’d felt her walls gripping his fingers as she rode out her orgasm.

  He wanted that to happen to his cock.

  Now.

  She still wore his sweater. That had to come off. He had to wash up, quick as possible. Get rid of all the grease and sweat. Had to find a condom somewhere in his nightstand. And if he didn’t have one…would she? What if she didn’t? What the fuck then? A quick dash to the shop, and then coming back to the stranger he’d let into his house. All buttoned up and ready to go on with her life?

  Blake trailed a hand up her back. He kept the other over her sex, cupping her, massaging her.

  He gripped her hair, tugged her head back. “Get naked.”

  Elle shivered, but didn’t refuse him. She pushed away from the wall and struggled out of his sweats. Her arms looked shaky and, when she glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes were hooded and her face relaxed.

  God, when last had she had an orgasm like that? Must have been forever ago — she looked drunk from it.

  “Good girl,” Blake murmured. “Now — hands back where I can see ‘em.”

  She leaned forward again, resting her palms against the wall.

  Jesus, but she was beautiful. Nothing skinny here — just a perfect ass and a dimpled back. Blake slid his hands around her stomach, gripping a breast in each hand. He folded over her, nipping her shoulder as he ground his jeans into her ass. She moaned, bucked into him, and tossed her head back.

  He kissed her. At first, she stiffened — not used to the taste of herself either, it seemed — and then she relaxed into the kiss like she had before. Now even more so. Blake squeezed her breasts, making her moan into his mouth.

  Enough torture. He had to be inside her or he would come in his pants like a fucking teenager on his first date.

  He yanked back her head again, studied her face, and gave her a last, chaste kiss on the mouth. His hand slid between those soft mounds of flesh and found her cunt. He pumped two fingers inside her, watching her face slide into a vapid mask of pleasure.

  “Wait here for me.”

  Her eyes opened, confused. “Where are—”

  “Uh, uh.” He paused with his fingers. “No questions. Wait, like the good girl you are.”

  Elle managed a nod, but he could see the concern flitting in her eyes. Would she slip away from him in the time it took him to dash to the nightstand?


  Yes.

  “While I’m gone…” Blake slid his fingers out of her, reached up, and took hold of one of her hands. She resisted at first — what good girl wouldn’t? — but after another slow kiss, her muscles relaxed enough that he could make her touch herself. “I need you to stay wet and ready for me, Elle.”

  That hand paused, before speeding up.

  “Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded. He kissed her again, moved her hand, and slid one of her fingers inside her.

  “Like that. Slow and steady. As deep as possible.” Every word seemed to make her tremble harder. “Keep fucking yourself like that, Elle. That’ll be how I’ll be fucking you. Slow and steady.” He forced her finger deeper inside her. “And as deep as possible.”

  Elle

  Blake left her her with a finger inside her and that ebbing pleasure so gently receding. Left her wanting him back at her side, or behind her, or wherever the hell he wanted to be — as long as he was touching her again.

  How could she still be so turned on? Usually, all it took was one orgasm and she’d be set for a week, maybe longer. Sam, it had seemed, could go almost a month between their lovemaking sessions with no problem.

  Always so busy. So tired from work.

  She’d heard all his excuses. And recognized them now for just that: excuses. Of course he needed action more than once a month.

  And he was getting it. Just not from her.

  Elle’s muscles stiffened. She drew her finger out. Rested that hand against the wall and slowly straightened. Huh. All it took was one thought of Sam to obliterate the pleasure Blake had so carefully cultivated inside her. What would he think if she asked to leave now? Did she have to ask? Wasn’t it her—

  What the hell was wrong with her? This was the first time she’d felt so alive, so hotwired with passion that she wanted to explode, and she wanted to back out? Because of Sam? Here she was, naked and trembling, in a stranger’s loft with just the promise of how slow and deep he was going to fuck her to keep her going… and she wanted to chicken out?