by Megan Wade
“I can’t wait.”
“Come on, sugar.” I take her hand and guide her out of the bathroom, deciding I’ll clean the mess up later. “I have a Christmas gift for you as well.”
SOPHIA
A fter the incident in the bathroom, and after a little necking session in the hall where Jackson thoroughly thanked me for the panties—who knew men loved used panties so much—Jackson and I make our way back to the living room. He gestures for me to sit, and I sink into one of his deep, plush couches, feeling the soft leather around me. I let out a happy sigh.
Jackson doesn’t sit down beside me.
“I have that cocoa sitting on the stove still. It should be cool enough to drink by now. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back with our mugs. Marshmallows?”
“Yes, please.” He grins, then leans down and presses a kiss against my forehead.
“Won’t be long.”
As he walks away, I take the opportunity to check out his fabulous butt. I’m not exactly sure how much older than me he is, but he has definitely taken care of himself. I imagine there are a lot of squats in that man’s day. He’s big, buff, and beautiful. And he’s all mine. I hum to myself, feeling almost giddy with happiness.
“Here we are.” My heart dances in my chest when Jackson reappears. He’s holding two steaming cups and something square wrapped in brown paper tucked under his arm. “Present time.” He places the mugs of cocoa on the coffee table then sits next to me, draping an arm across the back of the couch as he tucks one leg under him. “This is for you.” He grins and places the package in my lap. I belatedly notice the blue ribbon around it.
“Is it underwear?” I ask, already having an inkling over what might be wrapped inside based on the shape and the weight of it.
He chuckles. “No. But it’s something just as intimate.”
A warm, squishy feeling overcomes me as I lift the present and touch my finger to the bow. “Is it a book?” I look up at him, my eyes watering with joy.
“Open it and find out.”
“Oh, Jackson.” I breathe as I tug at the ribbon to release it. I carefully peel away the tape and unwrap the gift. It is a book, The Atonement, by Ian McEwan. “I love it.” I run my hand over the worn cover of the book before noticing many pages have been earmarked. I flip it open and thumb through the well-read pages, seeing many little notes made next to the text. “Is this your writing inside?”
“It is. This once belonged to Eva, my brother, Matthew’s, wife. A few years ago, they were having their house remodeled, and I offered to let them stay here. When they went back home, Eva left this book behind. She was so enraptured while she read it, that I was curious and ended up reading it myself. I never thought I’d enjoy a love story so much, but I loved it,” he explains, toying with a strand of my hair.
“Looks like you’ve read it many times.”
“I have. It left an impact, Sophia, one I never expected. It is such a deep book, and it pulled me through an emotional rollercoaster, I admit. And it’s my favorite book now. I’ve read it so many times, the spine is almost worn through. Anyway, it’s yours now. And I hope you love it even half as much as I do.” He grins down at me.
“Oh, I’m sure I will. This is such a special gift,” I say, turning it over and scanning the blurb. “But I have to ask, will it break my heart?”
“Possibly.” He presses his lips together. “But I see it as a life lesson that reminds us to grab onto the important things with both hands, make the most of every moment. Because you never know what’s coming next.” His eyes take on a wistful quality as he tucks my hair behind my ear.
“That’s very poignant.”
“And if you read it here, I’ll be right next to you to help you pick up the pieces.”
Oh, my. I’ve hit the soulmate jackpot.
Carefully placing the book on the coffee table next to the cocoa, I turn to Jackson and put a knee to the couch between us before I launch myself at him, my arms wrapping around him and my mouth finding his. My lips swallow his surprised laugh as he curls his arms around me, leaning back against the couch to support my weight as I slide onto his lap.
“In case you didn’t notice, I love your gift. Thank you, Jackson,” I murmur against his lips, tracing my tongue along the seam the way he did to me, then gently nipping at his full lower lip.
“Hmm, I’ll have to give you gifts more often if this is the response I get.” Jackson emits a low growl deep in his throat that I feel deep inside me, and before I know it, he has me on my back on the couch, holding himself over me, as he kisses me long, deep, and hot.
I feel his kiss everywhere, and feeling emboldened, I bring my hands up between us, and slide them across his abs under his shirt. He moans into our kiss, and the feel of his taut muscles rippling under my palms has me pressing myself into him. I tug at his shirt and he pauses, leans back, and whips it over his head, tossing it over the couch.
“Jackson,” I breathe, taking in his ripped chest, his wide golden shoulders and tight pecs smattered with dark hair. “You’re so beautiful.”
“So are you, sugar.”
“Can I?” I bring my hands up to touch him, but hesitate.
“You can touch me anywhere you like,” Jackson rumbles, and I place them tentatively on his chest as his keen eyes study me. The little hairs tickle my palms as I slowly run my hands down, feeling every ripple, every sinew, and every hard muscle of his torso. I reach the V that disappears under his jeans and bite my lip. Bravely, I let my hands go further down, and I cup his hard length through the denim. “Is this OK?”
“Fuck. Yeah. It’s more than OK.” Jackson groans as I explore the shape. My eyes widen. He feels so big. I bite my lip again as I wonder how that’s supposed to fit inside me, just before Jackson bends down and captures my mouth again.
He slides a hand beneath my sweater, the rough pads of his calloused fingers dragging against my skin before he cups a heavy breast and thumbs the spot on my bra, exactly over my nipple. I moan into his mouth, wishing he’d just take it off me. Just as I am about to beg him to, his hand shifts and I still, feeling his fingers toying with the button on my jeans. He lifts his head and our eyes lock, his gaze a question. I nod, nervous butterflies taking flight in my stomach as he works my jeans open then slides it big hand inside, following the curve of my body until he’s—
“Ohhhh!” I throw my head back as his finger glides along my wet seam. My eyes widen, a gasp escaping my mouth as feelings I can’t even begin to describe flood through me. I’ve never been touched so intimately. Heck, I’ve never even touched myself this intimately. It feels exciting and frightening all at the same time, and as one long finger pushes open my swollen lips and finds my clit, I’m transported to another dimension entirely. How did I not know my body could do this?
Jackson’s hot mouth trails wet kisses along my outstretched neck, his finger tracing slow circles around my clit before he slides back and presses it against my entrance. He pushes inside, and my mind reels, another finger joining in with this slow, pleasurable torture.
“Fuck, you’re so hot, so wet,” he groans, slowly easing his long fingers in and out of me as he uses his thumb to glide over my clit, enhancing the pleasure of his movement to an awe-inducing level.
“Jackson,” I cry out, squeezing my eyes shut as something inside me builds and grows tighter and tighter. “Something is happening. Oh, God!” My hips move against his hand, riding the rhythm as my body goes crazy with desire and need.
“Look at me, Sophia,” he demands.
I shake my head, my eyes still shut, feeling embarrassed but also out of my mind from the pleasure his fingers are giving me, that he is giving me.
“Look at me.” His voice is harsh, and my eyes snap open to his dark and wanting gaze. “I want you to look at me while I make you come, sugar. Do you hear me?”
I nod, words escaping me as his magical fingers work my insides.
“Are you close?”
I nod ag
ain.
He inserts a third finger inside me, my walls stretching as he shifts his thumb so it’s focused directly on my clit. He brushes his nail against it.
And that’s all it takes.
“Holy!” I cry out, waves and waves of pure molten pleasure rolling over me as an orgasm wracks through my body. Jackson watches my face with purely masculine satisfaction in his eyes while he continues to thumb my clit, prolonging my climax until I almost black out from the pleasure of it. “Oh my. That was…”
“Your first orgasm?” he murmurs, smiling at me as I come down feeling sated and limp.
“It was.”
“You came hard, sugar.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah. It’s a great thing.” I manage a weak nod and watch in shock, my arousal peaking again, as Jackson brings his finger to his mouth and sucks off my juices. I swallow hard, amazed. “Sweet,” he says. “Just like I thought.” I close my eyes, feeling shy from the display but secretly replaying the moment again and again in my mind. My insides clench. “But, I think I need a proper taste.”
My eyes fly open, and suddenly I’m lifted off the couch and give out a yelp. He picks me up like I weigh nothing, and perhaps, to a man as big as Jackson, someone my size isn’t that hard to lift. But it sends a thrill down my spine as my legs wrap around his strong hips and his hands cup my bottom.
“I’ve never been more grateful to a storm for ruining my plans in all my life.”
“Me either, sugar,” he says, as he walks us toward his room, our now cold-cocoa sitting untouched on the coffee table.
JACKSON
I carry her into my room, only pausing to shut the door with my foot. I love having Sophia in my arms, her face buried in my neck, her breath warm and still escalated from her recent orgasm.
If I weren’t already hard and throbbing, just the thought of her face as she climaxed would be enough to get me going again. My dick lurches again at the memory, and it throbs even harder at the thought of watching her come again—and again, and again.
Best Christmas ever.
I reach the foot of my king-sized bed and lower her till she’s sitting at the edge, her face upturned and looking up at me. Like she’s unable to stop herself, Sophia’s hand reaches out, and she traces the taut skin just above my jeans.
“You’ll get your turn, Sophia,” I murmur, loving the way she bites her lip, and her hooded eyes go liquid.
“You promise?” she asks, seeming so much bolder than she was before as she brings her palm down to cup me like she did on the couch. Feeling her hands on me, even through the denim, my cock pulses, and I ache to free myself and teach her how to please me, how to take me into her hot mouth and make me come. All in good time.
“I love it when you touch me, sugar,” I growl as I lean down and kiss her, guiding her back on the bed as I climb over her and hook a hand beneath her ass, shifting her until her head rests against the soft pillow. Then I hold myself over her, looking down into her face and loving the open invitation that is now overriding all her previous shyness.
“I’d like to touch you more,” she whispers, her hands sliding over my chest then dragging up and down my back.
“Soon. Do you remember what I promised you earlier?” I ask, working the hem of her sweater up her body, my fingers brushing against her skin. “About me peeling every stitch of clothing away from your body till you’re naked and ready for me?”
“Uh-huh.” She visibly swallows as she nods.
“Well, I’m going to get started on that promise right now.” She sucks in a breath as I push her sweater up to her shoulders and help her sit so I can lift it over her head. My eyes never leave her body, and once the sweater is on the floor, I pause and trace my knuckles over the swell of her glorious breasts, covered in a dark green bra with lace edging. I can feel her heart racing under my fingertips. “So beautiful.”
Wordlessly, she reaches for the clasp of her bra, but I stop her.
“Not yet, Sophia. It’ll come off, I promise. But not yet.”
“OK.” She relaxes her hands to her sides, and I run a finger down her softly rounded belly, to her unbuttoned jeans.
“I want to taste you so lie back,” I tell her.
“Taste me?” She gasps. “You mean, you want to…you want to….down there?”
My smile is slow as I nod, my hands already tugging at her jeans as she lies back again.
“Lift up for me, sugar,” I order, and she does, shimmying a little to help me get them off. I grin at her bare skin, remembering her panties still in my pocket. I eye her soft, creamy breasts that bounce a little every time she moves. “Christ, Sophia. You’re a fucking dream.”
“I could say the same about you,” she says, lying there, her back to the pillows, half reclined, but just enough that she can watch me as I go down on her. Good. I want her to watch.
“Spread your legs for me, sugar. Let me see how wet you are for me.”
“Oh. I’m not sure. Is that…is that something you really want to see?”
I press back on my knees and cup my hand around my still-throbbing dick to show her how much. “Oh yeah, I want to see it,” I assure her, taking her by the ankles as I guide her legs open then push her knees up before I lean in and slowly trail kisses along the insides of her creamy thighs.
“Jackson…” She squirms, her eyes on my head as I kiss my way down. I pause when I finally reach her core. Then I place one last kiss against the hollow of her thighs before I flick my tongue out and lick her swollen clit. Ambrosia.
I grin as Sophia nearly lifts off the bed. And before she can recover, I stroke her swollen, sensitive clit with my tongue, sucking and flicking at the tight bundle of nerves.
“Jackson, Jackson, Jackson.” She moans my name repeatedly, her hands fisting the bedspread.
I sweep my tongue through her seam then spear it into her wetness and tongue fuck her, tasting her sweetness like the greedy bastard I am. She tastes exactly how I imagined, heaven.
Her hips lift off the bed.
“Jackson, I think I’m going to come!” she forces out, her voice strangled, her breath coming out erratically. “Please, Jackson, I need to come.”
I replace my tongue with my fingers and drive them deeper into her wetness, my tongue returning to her clit as I urge her to let go.
Come for me. There’s no greater pleasure for me than watching her writhe.
“Jackkkkksooooon!!!!” With a loud gasp followed by a whimper, Sophia explodes all over my face, and I lap at her juices without letting go. She bucks and squirms, calling out my name over and over as she screams up at the heavens. “Holy shiiiiit!”
As the waves of her orgasm slowly fade, Sophia lies back against the pillows, her curls fanned out, their brilliant auburn a stark contrast to the white pillowcases. With one last kiss against her mound, I lift my head and find her lying there, limp and exhausted from her second orgasm of the evening.
“You look like a Christmas miracle,” I say as she smiles up at me, her face flushed coated with the sated look of a woman well fucked. I can’t wait to see how she looks once I’ve really fucked her.
“This is literally my favorite Christmas ever,” she says with a giggle.
Grinning, I climb over her, placing a gentle kiss on her lips, letting my tongue sweep into her mouth to share her taste. She hums, seeming too tired to move.
“Let me get you something to clean up.” I get off the bed and walk toward my en-suite bathroom, where I wet a washcloth and bring it to her, gently cleaning her juices from her so she won’t feel sticky later.
As I clean her tenderly, I glance up to find her watching me, her eyes liquid and soft.
“Aren’t we going to make love?” she asks, looking adorably confused.
“We are, sugar,” I promise. “But not tonight.”
Her nose scrunches. “But I want to see you, Jackson. I want to please you.”
“You have.”
“I mean, I wan
t to—”
I kiss her to silence her words before I pull back and look down into her gorgeous eyes. “My greedy minx, you’ll have your turn. But not tonight. It’s not Christmas yet, and you can’t unwrap me until tomorrow morning.”
“That seems horribly unfair,” she says, grinning at me, as I push off the bed then dump the used washcloth in the hamper and hit the lights.
“Well, I wrote to Santa,” I start, unzipping my jeans and kicking them off, leaving me in just my boxers. “And I asked him to send me a beautiful woman to wake up next to. And not just any beautiful woman—my perfect mate. So, we’re going to bed, and I’m going to sleep holding you all night while my hard-on rests against that delectable ass of yours. And in the morning….” I trail off as I climb into bed and pull the covers over both of us.
“It’ll be Christmas,” she finishes for me as she turns to her side, and I pull her closer, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder.
“That’s right, and we save the best presents for the morning.”
SOPHIA
L ying curled up next to Jackson, feeling his warmth all around me, I can’t help but sigh with happiness. The last few hours with him play over and over in my head, and I snuggle in closer, my body releasing a delighted shiver when I feel his hard muscles against my back.
Oh my, oh my. I have been gifted the man to end all men. He is so perfect that I have to resist the urge to pinch myself, afraid that I’d wake up from this dream.
This doesn’t feel real, but it feels beautiful.
I grew up reading about fairy tales, of handsome princes on white horses, of happily ever afters, and of…love at first sight.
Love at first sight.
Is this even possible? Is it possible to feel this way about a man I met only hours ago?
Well, obviously, it is, because here I am, curled up against the man of my dreams, his arms holding me like they’ll never let me go. I feel safe and protected. But is this really the forever I’ve been hoping for?
I think back to all the times I’ve curled up with a romance novel, or watched a romantic movie. It never seemed impossible for the characters to fall in love at first sight, like their love has been foretold and all that was left was for them to meet and bam! they fall in love, experience romance like never before, and get their happily ever afters all tied up in a nice neat bow. Is that what’s happening to me? I sure hope so.