The Stocking Was Hung(31)

I hold his face against my * and my hips start to move against his mouth. He tortures me with his tongue against my clit and his fingers curl up inside of me, making me gasp with pleasure and call out his name.

“You taste like heaven,” he breathes, his mouth hovering right against my clit while his fingers continue their slow, torturous movements in and out of me. “Come for me, Noel. I need to feel you come with my mouth on you.”

“Yes, holy shit, yes,” I moan, my hips jerking toward him as he lowers his mouth once again to my * and resumes that delicious swirl of his tongue around my clit.

I’m right there on the edge of bliss, the slow pump of his fingers in and out of my body making the tingle and pleasure of my orgasm speed through me like a rocket.

“Let. Me. Feel. You. Come,” he urges me in between swipes of his tongue.

I clutch his hair in my fingers and tug so hard I don’t know how he isn’t screaming in pain as his fingers thrust deep inside me and make my toes curl with pleasure.

“Sam,” I say on a breath. “I’m coming, f*ck, I’m coming!”

I feel my * pulse, my heart beat centered around that area, enhancing everything until I can do nothing but writhe on the bed and buck my hips against his mouth when he sucks hard on my clit and f*cks his fingers into me roughly. My release is never-ending, and I feel like I’m floating in a cloud of orgasm heaven as I continue to move my hips and drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He holds his fingers deep inside of me and his mouth pressed against my clit as I slowly come down to earth, aftershocks of my orgasm making my hips jerk every few seconds until I finally open my eyes and let go of the death grip I have on his hair.

With one last swipe of his tongue all along the center of my *, he sits back on his legs and my arms fall to my sides on the bed.

“Holy shit, do you have a permit for that mouth?” I mutter, my breath puffing out of me like I just ran a marathon.

He laughs and I feel the bed dip when he sits down next to me. I bonelessly roll over to my side as he lies down and wraps his arms around me, pulling me up against his fully-clothed body.

“Best. Present. Ever,” he tells me with a smile.

Sliding my arms around his waist and hooking one leg over his hip, I hug him to me tightly, wishing I could take a picture of this moment, frame it and put it on my nightstand.

We stay tangled up together in bed, the only sounds in the room are the muffled voices of visitors outside in my parent’s yard as they show up in droves to take a walk through the light display.

I want to tell him to never leave. I want to tell him this stupid charade stopped being a charade the moment he kissed me under the pot mistletoe. I want to ask him if he’ll be my boyfriend for real and not for a fake show for my family.

I want so many things that I’m just too f*cking afraid to ask for. Things I’ve never wanted in my entire life, but suddenly can’t stop thinking about with my face pressed up against his chest while I breathe him in.

Marriage. Love. Forever.

“Psssssssst. Hey, you guys want some Ecstasy?”

The knock and whisper of Aunt Bobbie at my door again kills the mood and brings me back to the real world where this is all for show and Sam will be walking away from me in just two days.

“Aunt Bobbie, you already asked us that and the answer is still no!” I shout to her, my face still buried against Sam’s chest.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” she replies through the door. “Forget I asked you that. I think I already took all of it. Wow, the lights in the hallway are so flashy and pretty. Ooooooh, hello, little squirrel, do you want some vodka? What a pretty sweater you’re wearing. Do I want to sing a song with you? Of course I want to sing a song with you, sweater squirrel! You’re so pretty and soft and pretty.”

Aunt Bobbie’s voice trails off as she walks away from the door, the opening line of Silent Night in her horrible, off-key singing voice echoing down the hall. I close my eyes and savor the vibration of Sam’s laughter against my cheek.

“DON’T BITE ME, SWEATER SQUIRREL! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME I CAN’T SING!”

Sam pulls back from me and our eyes meet.

“Should we go down there and make sure she doesn’t light the tree on fire or trash the place?” he asks.

I sigh and nod my head. “Yeah, that’s probably a wise decision.”

Just then, we hear a crash from downstairs, both of us jumping up from the bed as fast as possible, Sam heading for the door while I scramble to throw on clothes.

“IT’S OKAY! EVERYTHING IS FINE! SWEATER SQUIRREL AND I ARE JUST GOING TO HAVE SOME TEA WITH MR. POLAR BEAR!” Aunt Bobbie shouts up to us.

So much for having a little more time to enjoy my temporary bliss.





Chapter 12




Sam




“Noel, I think we should talk about what’s going to happen after tomorrow.”

“Noel, I’d like to be your boyfriend. Like, for real. For really-real.”

“Jesus, I suck at this shit,” I mutter to myself after staring in the mirror for ten minutes and practicing what I want to say to her.

After I unwrapped the best present in the world last night and Noel and I managed to put out the small fire under the tree when Aunt Bobbie thought her imaginary squirrel and polar bear needed something to keep them warm, we hung out with her family when the visitors all left and waited to find out the judging of the lighting contest.