The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(11)

Thankfully, aside from my father, everyone else took their cues from me and politely smiled and agreed with whatever I said. My father just continued to bitch and moan about how Mister Ed was the dumbest television show ever and I would quickly change the subject to something else before Sam realized Mister Ed had something to do with him.

I’m officially the worst fiancée in the world to keep him around my insane family until an ungodly hour instead of taking him home as soon as my father snatched the glass of milk out of his hand at dinner and pointed his butter knife at Sam’s crotch. I didn’t know what else to do. Sam started getting that look in his eyes halfway through dinner. You know the one. Where no matter what you say or do, it turns your man on and he suddenly can’t stop rubbing your thigh under the table and winking at you.

Normally, all of this would have me grabbing his hand and running for the door, but I was in a panic. Instead of being happy that the love of my life can still get turned on even when my father is waving a knife at his penis and my mother is complaining about Mr. Yoder and his ten family members being upset about not being invited to the wedding, all I could think about was how stressed Sam would be if we got back home, tried to have sex, and he couldn’t finish. The only thing I could think of to avoid that stress, was to just not have sex with Sam. To suffer through hours and hours of listening to my mother talk about more stupid ideas instead of being alone with him. I figured if we got home late enough, he’d be too tired and remember he needed to be up early for work tomorrow morning and that would be that.

At midnight, Sam officially had enough, grabbed my hand and dragged me out the door. I figured my plan worked when he was quiet the whole ride home and assumed he was just too exhausted to speak, until we got in the house. He kicked the door closed, lifted me up against him, and shoved my back into the wall right next to the door.

It seems like wedding planning is yet another item I can add to the list of things that turns Sam on. How in the hell am I supposed to deny him when he keeps telling me that he loves me and he can’t wait to marry me? Obviously, I can’t. Especially when he drops to his knees, yanks my jean shorts and underwear down in one quick motion, and then buries his face between my legs.

I forget all about wedding planning chaos and Mister Ed finishing a race when his tongue swirls around my clit. My head thumps back against the wall and I close my eyes, clutching onto the back of his head as my hips thrust up to meet his mouth.

He hums as he sucks my clit into his mouth, the vibrations from his lips making incoherent sounds fly from me, and my hips move faster against him. His tongue flicks quickly back and forth and I forget about everything, including my own name. When he slides two fingers inside me, curling them upwards when they’re as deep as they can go, I can at least remember his name. I start softly chanting it as my legs begin to shake and my * starts to tingle with my approaching orgasm.

Sam flicks his tongue faster and faster, pumping his fingers in and out of me, and I come in record time, holding his head against me as I ride the wave of pleasure pulsing through me. Before my release is barely finished, Sam is back up on his feet, scooping me up into his arms and carrying me over to the couch with my shorts and underwear still dangling from my ankles. I’m in such a lust-filled, post-orgasm haze that nothing else matters but having him inside me. A spark of hope that this will be it, this will be the night his problem finally ends, has me clutching at him like a mad woman as soon as he puts me down on the couch and covers me with his body. I shove his hands away from his zipper and unfasten his pants on my own, pushing them and his boxer briefs down just far enough so I can wrap my hand around his penis and pull it out while he closes the distance between us and kisses me.

He moans into my mouth as I tighten my hold on him and slide my hand from base to tip, over and over until it’s his turn to shove my hand out of the way. He’s so big and hard, and as he lines the head of his cock up against me, I know he’s definitely going to finish this time. The skin of his dick was so tight around him when I held it in my hand that it felt like it was two seconds away from bursting. I wrap my arms around his waist and grab his ass, lifting my hips and pushing the lower half of his body down at the same time.

Thanks to how wet I still am from my orgasm, he easily slides right in and we groan in unison at how good it feels. His mouth never leaves mine, our tongues moving against each other as he starts pumping his hips, hard and rough, slamming his cock inside me. The thrusting of his hips are erratic and fast, and I love every minute of it, knowing he’s lost all control and just wants to take everything I have to give him.

It’s all so hot and romantic. Until it isn’t.

Yep, you guessed it. Fifteen minutes later, he’s still powering away between my legs and I’m trying not to wince with each push and pull of his cock, in and out of my now Sahara-like vagina. He stopped kissing me five minutes ago and buried his face in the side of my neck where I can now feel a trickle of sweat dripping down from his heavy panting. Instead of reassuring him that everything is fine, that he can stop and it’s no big deal, I do what any insane woman would do. I try out another idea, given to me by my soon-to-be ex-best friend.

While he’s preoccupied breathing fire against my neck and growling angrily each time he drives into me, I take one hand off of his ass and blindly reach down to the floor next to the couch, grabbing my shorts from where I kicked them off. Using the tips of my fingers and trying not to make any sudden movements, I find the pocket where I shoved my cell phone and pull it out, making like I’m wrapping my arms back around him while I press the button to light up the screen and click on my web browser.