The Plight Before Christmas(104)

He kisses me again and again, erasing all space and the time between us. Kiss intensifying, his erection brushes my stomach as I clutch him to me, our cold noses touching as I practically climb him. Somehow, he manages to sweep me off my feet onto the frozen ground to straddle him. We break, breathless, as he tugs at my shirt to expose my neck, his sporadic kisses becoming more urgent.

In mere seconds, we go feral, our touches growing carnal, our thirsts combining.

“Jesus, I’ve never been so hard in my life,” he groans. “But we’ll take this as slow as you want to, I swear, Whitney,” he murmurs, his kiss drifting to my jawline before he latches onto my neck. When I start grinding on him, he lifts his hips to meet mine, his methodic strokes hitting my clit expertly.

“Eli,” I rasp out as my pulse skyrockets away, inhibitions strapped to its back.

“I know.”

Our bodies move naturally, creating the most delicious and agonizing friction. Already soaked, I feel the jerk of his cock as I thrust my hips against his movement. He pulls back, watching my expression in the dim light, his glacier eyes flaring before he blows out a ragged breath. “Your family—”

I lick along his bottom lip. “Is in church for the next hour and a half. Minimum.”

“Church is that long? Thank God,” he whispers.

“It is tonight, and in this instance, you literally can.”

Our laughter gets cut short by our moans, and I pull away.

“I need…you,” I declare, getting completely lost in the hard lines of his body, the scruff of his jaw, his smell. “Eli, please.”

He pulls away abruptly, searching my eyes. “Bee—”

“Right now,” I demand, rubbing myself along his rock-hard length.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Once you let me in this way, I won’t be able to let you go. I need you to hear me. I won’t survive it twice.”

The decision hangs in the air between us. Sex is still emotional for Eli—at least it is with me.

“Yes, to everything you’re thinking,” he whispers. “Yes, Whitney, it’s you.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” I say.

He gathers me in his arms, charging toward the house as I latch onto his neck.





Moonlight cloaks the expanse of the room as Eli sets me in front of the glass door. He presses a slow kiss to my lips before tugging one into his mouth, his murmur barely perceptible. “Bare?”

“Hell yes,” I reply raggedly before our mouths again collide.

Kiss. “Should,” kiss, “we,” kiss, “go up to your room?”

“Eli, we’re wasting time.”

He chuckles against my mouth. “Demanding as ever, and I’m going to start making that time up to you right now.”

“Stop talking,” I say, gripping his cock through his sweatpants.

“Fuck,” he breathes.

“Don’t tease,” I scold as he slides his hand into my pajama pants and panties. He stills, interrupting our kiss, grinning against my lips as he runs his fingers against the landing strip of trimmed curls.

“You kept my strip.” He makes another intoxicating pass with his finger. “I love this.”

“Yeah, you mentioned it.”

“When?”

“Doesn’t matter, read the vagina, Welch.”

He chuckles before his fingers begin to explore. “So soft,” he plunges cold fingers into me, and I gasp out at the feel. “So fucking sexy,” he whispers as I begin to move my hips frantically for more friction while he massages my clit against his palm.

Just as I go to demand more, he sweeps me off my elf slippers, my legs wrapping around his waist. Our lips remain close as he murmurs soft praises between kisses, his arms encasing me as he lays me on the mattress and undresses me.

Once naked, he lifts, and I fumble with his sweatpants, getting them down mid-thigh before diving for his cock, surrounding the fat tip with my lips. Licking the tender underside first, I meet his eyes as he stutters out a, “fuuuuccck.”

“Speaking of things we missed,” I take him to the back of my throat and suck hard before releasing him with a pop. He traces my face reverently with his fingers as I part my own over his crown before tightening them down his length to the base—long, thick, veiny perfection. When I go in again, he jerks his head and gently tugs my hand away before nestling between my legs.

“Eli,” I moan as he runs his fingers through my soaked sex a second before he lines us up.

“You’re right. We’re wasting time.” Forearms propped on either side of me, we lock eyes as he slowly begins to press into me.

“Jesus, fuck, fuck…fuck…” Eli gasps as he stretches me with his girth, and I arch my back at the invasion. Palming my thigh, he spreads me further before slamming the rest of himself into me in one smooth thrust. The strength of his groan matches my cry as he draws back, eyes flaring. Needing more friction, I begin to move with him, and he presses me into the mattress, his hips pinning me.

“Oh,” thrust, “my,” thrust, “God,” thrust, thrust, thrust, “Eli.”

“Jesus, Whitney,” he murmurs as he burrows in deeper, lifting my leg to wrap around his hip and planting our clasped hands next to my head.