The Plight Before Christmas(74)

It’s damned near impossible not to feed off her excitement and her enthusiasm for life, even as she’s cooking something as simple as egg whites and bitching about Professor Morales. It’s in her every pore, in her smile, in the energy she feeds me, to keep going, to keep moving, to fucking care beyond surviving another day.

Something I wasn’t sure I could do. Something that’s becoming a little easier as she pulls smiles from me, unexpected laughter, and an energy I no longer thought I was capable of.

I’ve spent the last two hours following her around an overcrowded department store, less concerned with the noise surrounding us and utterly dazed by her beauty. Entranced by her mouth as she speaks, captivated by her light brown eyes, the gracefulness of small gestures, the nape of her neck as she tied her hair up. The separation between our bodies became agonizing, and I relay as much as I kiss her. She whimpers into my mouth as I assault her with the strength of my need, my name sounding like a prayer as it leaves her lips.

Unwilling to release her, I dip and place soft kisses at the hollow of her throat as she fists my jacket, bringing me closer. Cock begging to be set free, I flick my tongue against the soft skin behind her ear before sucking, threading my fingers through her hair, trailing my lips along her jaw, teasing until she opens for me, accepting the long, thorough strokes of my tongue.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I run my tongue along her top lip, and in response she shudders in my arms. “Are you wet for me, Whitney?”

“Eli,” she breathes in question, her lips whispering along my jaw as I stroke her hips beneath her jacket. “Come in? Alyssa’s already left for home.”

Without hesitation I nod, and she immediately dips, retrieving her purse and opening the door to her apartment. Grabbing her bags, I drop them onto the nearest surface the second we’re on the other side of the door. In the next, she’s in my arms again as I lift her, wrapping her legs around me and walking her to her bedroom.

She threads her fingers in my hair before clasping them around my neck, eyes glued to mine as she tugs at me urgently. Once inside her room, I lay her down on her mattress and start to unbutton her jacket. She stares up at me, her eyes pooling.

Expectation has me pausing briefly before I dip, slowly, so slowly drawing on her lips. Explosions detonate in my chest as I swipe my tongue along the seam to open, and she does. We sink into the mattress as I slide my tongue against hers, tasting and savoring until we’re a tangled mess of arms and legs, chests bouncing with every desperate gasp of air. Pulling away just for a good look at her, she stares up at me in wait, her eyes imploring.

“Are we doing this?” I ask her, and she raises to her knees, unfastening my jeans, pulling them down past my boxers. She palms my cock, drawing a moan from me as I discard my jacket. I toe-off my boots and fist my thermal off, dropping it to the floor. When I’m in nothing but my boxers, she pulls me atop her and spreads her legs, locking me between them, her eyes filled with a mix of lust and affection. It’s when I brace myself above her, feeding on the look in her eyes, that the last of my restraint leaves me.

With her silent permission, I slowly begin to undress her.

When she lays naked beneath me, I stall briefly, throat burning, heart hammering while memorizing every inch of her.

“I’m on the pill,” she whispers as I go to reach for a condom. “I’m safe.”

I nod, reveling in the idea of nothing between us as she dips her hand into my boxers, squeezing my cock before running it up and down the length.

I grit my teeth to keep from coming in her hands. It takes everything I have not to let her see the last of the unraveling inside me that began the second I laid eyes on her. Inching down to taste her, to ready her, she firmly shakes her head.

“Please, I’m ready. I need you so much.”

“Bee,” I murmur, discarding my boxers and sliding a hand down her silky, warm skin where I find her soaked.

“Ah,” her back arches as I press my fingers into her and spread them. “Make love to me,” she whispers as my chest expands with her demand, a demand I refuse to deny her a second fucking longer.

Cupping the top of her head and lining us up, I exhale a shaky breath and slowly start to push inside her. It’s then I lose the rest of my fucking mind. My entire body warming as fire licks up my spine, I press the rest of myself into her as tight, wet heat engulfs me. I’m just about to ask if she’s okay as her lips part and a long moan escapes her.

“Feels so good, baby,” I groan and close my eyes, trying to hold on as long as I can, my heart erupting in tiny explosions as I lift to stare down at her. She looks up at me as my heart dismantles completely, and I’m engulfed in sensation overload.

“Whitney…” I croak, coming apart as I feel her surround me wholly for the first time. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking perfect. Nothing has ever felt so perfect.” She lifts, sliding her tongue through my lips as all control leaves me, and I begin to roll my hips, seeking more and more. Staring down at her, my hair falls loose, and she pushes it back while gazing up in a way that changes me. It’s then I give a piece of myself to Whitney Collins, and I’m certain there’s no getting it back. Body arching, I grind myself into her, angling my cock along her G with every single thrust.

Unbelievably, she tightens around me in seconds, crying out to me as her body shudders and her warmth engulfs me. Balls soaked from her orgasm, I ramp up my thrusts and lose myself as she calls my name. Within the next breath, I’m overcome, a flood of euphoria rushing through me as my cock pulses. The orgasm cracks me in half as I drive in deeper, grinding my release into her, filling her while it consumes me. Breaths ragged, I all but collapse on top of her as she runs her hands through the damp hair at the back of my neck, gazing up at me. We don’t utter a single word. We don’t have to.