It's a Wonderful Tangled Christmas Carol (Tangled, #4.5) (21)

“I thought you’d never ask.” Her breath hitches. And she whispers, “Yes.”

The effect of those three tiny letters is immediate and extraordinary. Warmth rushes through my veins. I exhale a lungful of air I didn’t realize I was holding.

Fucking yes.

I mean, of course she said yes. Never doubted it.

I take the ring from the box, and slip it on her slender finger. Perfect fit. Bending her head, Kate seeks out my lips and I’m more than happy to give them to her. Our tongues stroke each other, gentle but sincere, like a vow. Kate falls to her knees, and my fingers caress the soft wisps of hair at the base of her neck. I angle my mouth and encase her bottom lip in my own, sucking gently. She moans and pulls me against her.

I skim my fingers up the smooth skin of her outer thighs, where her dress ends. Grasping the material, I lift it up over her head in one sure move. Leaving her only in a red lace bra and matching panties—a thong.

Nice.

I grasp her hips, dragging her closer. A groan of satisfaction rumbles from my throat when I cup the supple flesh of her perfect ass in both palms. That gorgeous ass—my favorite part. I hold her steady as I grind against her, making my already needy cock harder.

While we’re still lip-locked, Kate’s deft fingers unbutton my shirt, impatiently yanking it down my arms. I shrug out of the offending garment, and make quick work of the clasps on her bra. I sigh when those pale globes tumble from the confines of their red lace. Cupping the heavy flesh with both hands, I duck my head to take one already peaked, tight nipple into my mouth. Kate’s hands burrow through my hair, tugging and clasping. I suck at the tasty little nub, squeezing it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth with barely restrained pressure.

We fall back on the blanket, a tangle of moans and writhing limbs. Kate’s nails scour the muscles of my bare back, and I know she’s feeling just as wild as I am.

With my heartbeat drumming in my ears, I rear back and jerk the scrap of pantie fabric down her hips—tossing the thong over my shoulder. Luscious, rapid pants escape Kate’s lips as my tongue travels up her inner thigh. I hook her knee over my shoulder, spreading her open, savoring the view of her hot, pink flesh in the light of the setting sun.

I hover over her, just close enough to caress her with my breath. “Fuck, Kate, the things I want to do to you . . .”

Her round, dark eyes drift over my face—filled with love and need. Docile and demanding.

“I’m yours, Drew,” she tells me in a low voice. “You can do anything . . . everything.”

Does she even know what she’s offering? How badly I want to own her—f*cking claim her—out here in the open? How desperately I want to hear her voice, soaked with pleasure, screaming my name until it echoes off the hills?

Anything?

Oh the possibilities.

Feeling Kate’s eyes on mine—watching her watch me—I slide down till I’m face level with that sweet juncture between her thighs. A groan of gratification rumbles from my chest when my open mouth envelops her delectable *. I spear her slick folds with my tongue and revel in her taste—the feel of her against my tongue. Kate arches her back and swivels her hips, urging me on—seeking wet, firm friction. I love her roughly with my mouth, sucking, nipping, and laving—scratching the tender skin of her thighs with the stubble of my chin.

When her legs are trembling and her words become a jumbled chant of need, I rise, grasp her hips, and flip her over. She goes oh so willingly, bracing herself on hands and knees. Gripping her shoulder, I plunge inside, grunting and grinding, skimming my other hand down her back, over the swell of her ass, across her stomach, then back up again. My pelvis crashes against her ass, jerking her forward. Until she pushes back against me, welcoming every hard thrust.

It’s unbridled f*cking. Passion at its most raw.

I’m all senses, pure sensation—the wet, gripping muscles of her *, her smooth skin under my palm, her silky hair wrapped around my fingers, her keening whimpers, the scent of sweat and sex, the feel of her hand on my thigh, pushing for more. Faster. Deeper.

I pull her up harshly, her back against my chest, still fully buried inside. My teeth scrape her ear, her neck. Kate moans low and loud. My hand slides down between her legs, rubbing her clit until she quivers.

I’m possessed with the animalistic need to mark her. My lips latch on to the fragile skin where her shoulder and neck meet. I suck until she screams—on the razor-edge of pleasure and pain. Then I move my mouth upward and do it again. Leaving a trail of brands.

Because she’s mine.

The thought makes me harder and I surge forward again, needing to feel her come around me, all my focus centered on where I’m enveloped. But it’s the brush of Kate’s lips against my hand that pulls me back, that slows the shallow plunge of my cock. She kisses each fingertip tenderly, then begs, “I want to see you, Drew.”

I untangle my hand from her hair, and Kate turns on her knees, facing me. Without a word, I sit back on my ass and she straddles my waist, her small hands resting on my shoulders. She looks down, gyrates until we’re lined up, and I grind my jaw with pleasure as she slowly sinks down on my dick.

Our hard breaths mingle, face-to-face, and I’m caught in her eyes. Drowning in the depths of those dark pools—with no thought of looking anywhere else. My hands grasp her slender hips, helping her rise and fall. And it’s even more powerful, more f*cking intense than our desperate vigorous movements just minutes before.