Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (Starcrossed #4)(4)

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I throw the bowl in the sink and lean against the bench as she goes to work. I don't even care that I break the bowl. Pretty sure all of the dishes will be ruined anyway. Sauce pans, too. I hear plutonium has a half-life of fifty years. Cassie's food will still be toxic way after that.

Warm lips close around me, and I hiss out a breath as I watch her.

Okay, idiot, stop thinking about her food and look at what the hell she's doing to you.

Fuuuck, she drives me insane. Seeing her put her mouth on me is one of the greatest joys of my life. The sensation alone is knee-buckling, but witnessing the woman I love taking such care to please me? It blows my mind. No matter how often she does it, I'll never see it as anything but miraculous.

I pull her hair back from her face, so I can see better. Then I tug all the strands back into a ponytail at the base of her head, and wrap it around my hand. I know she enjoys some light hair pulling, but I mainly do it so I can concentrate on something other than how she's dragging me to orgasm way too fast. When she closes her fingers around me and adds firm, slow strokes to what she's doing with her lips and tongue, I look at the ceiling and clench my jaw.

No, not yet, Holt. You're not a teenager. Calm the f*ck down.

I take long, measured breaths, in and out.

Damn her and her magical mouth.

For the three years we were apart, I thought I'd developed impotence. Turns out I just wasn't attracted to women who weren't her. On the few occasions I tried to be with someone else, my dick refused to cooperate. He knew what we wanted.

I glance down at her, cheeks hollowing and then filling, eyes closed, moans of satisfaction vibrating on her tongue.

That is what we wanted. What we still want. Just her. Forever and always.

I'm seized by the urgent need to please her, so I pull her to her feet, pick her up, and carry her out to the dining room. She'd set the table with a wreath thing that had tinsel and candles. It looks great, and I appreciated the effort, but right now it's just in the way. It crashes into the wall as I sweep it with my arm.

"That wasn't expensive, was it?" I ask, and perch her ass on the edge of the table.

She winds her fingers in my hair. "Yes, but who cares? Kiss me."

She wraps her legs around my waist as I kiss her deeply, and when I lower her back onto the table and lay my weight against her, she moans.

I pull her arms away from me and press them against the sides of the table. "Grab the edge." She does as she's told then stares at me with hooded eyes while I slide off her underwear and spread her knees. "Don't move. Time for the main course."

I sit on a chair in front of her and wrap my hands around her thighs. Then I lean in to taste her.

Jesus. This is what I should have had on my tongue since I arrived home. Always delicious. Always perfect. Very little preparation time necessary. She arches and moans as I lick and kiss, and when I close my mouth over her and suck in earnest, I hear the distinct sound of her nails scraping the underside of the table.

"Ohhhh, God ... Ethaaaan."

When she moans my name like that, I feel like a god.

I increase my pace while adding the extra stimulation of my fingers. That takes her to the edge so many times, she eventually lets go of the table and grips my hair, so I can't move away any more.

"Ethan, please ..."

I love it when she begs. Not sure what that says about me, but I can't help it. There's no denying my body's reaction. My dick is rock hard and aching, and I'm so turned on I almost trip over my own feet as I yank off my jeans.

Cassie watches me and tugs on the ties of her apron to remove it. I pull her up and unclasp her bra before pulling it off and throwing it across the room.

"Ethan –"

"I know."

Whenever we're together, there comes a moment when we can't stand not being part of each other for one second longer. It's like we're racing against the clock, full of savage anticipation and grasping, desperate need.

That's where we are right now, both so full of tension and impatience, we're rough and animalistic. Everything that stands in the way of us being joined is automatically the enemy. Cassie scrapes her fingernails against my hip when she helps pull off my boxer-briefs. I feel fabric tear, but I don't slow down. As soon as we're both naked, I pull her to the edge of the table and look down as I guide myself inside her.

Fuck. Fucking f*cking f*ck.

I drop my head and sigh.

Sweet, throbbing relief.

I frown in concentration while pushing in further. What I said earlier about never getting tired of seeing Cassie take me in her mouth? It goes double for watching myself disappear inside her. Quadruple for the look she gets as I fill her. No matter how often we do it, or how long it lasts, making love to Cassie is always a revelation. It's like I'm a thousand percent more alive when I'm part of her.

Even when everything between us went wrong, this never stopped being right.

I start with shallow thrusts. Barely moving. When I feel confident I'm not going to embarrass myself, I go deeper. Stronger. We moan in unison, both getting lost in each other.

Whenever I'm deep in inside her, I can't believe I used to think that soulmates and destiny were ridiculous concepts. We fit together so perfectly, there's no doubt in my mind this woman's body was made for me. Every time I push in, she gasps. When I retreat, she groans like the loss of me is painful.