“Not sure about Christmas, but we will be.”
I gut chuckle because the joke lands just right on this night in particular. “You’re a very naughty boy. Isn’t sex forbidden on Christmas?” Call it my mood, just a stage in life, or that it’s him that has me feeling this way lighter than sunshine and more optimistic than ever, but I soak it in. Reaching behind me, I hold his head just where he is, letting him love on me, and for the first time, I feel deserving of it. I bend my fingers and scrape my nails lightly over his scalp.
His lips press to mine, and then he kisses the corner of my mouth. “It’s just us, babe. We get to make our own rules.” His words are the permission to let all the things go that I’ve held on to so tightly for the past three years.
Being strict with myself and my needs, denying myself pleasure, guilt-free happiness, or even being myself haven’t led to what this man’s managed to give me in the past week. I was getting by, surviving, but I wasn’t thriving or really living at all.
He’s a dream come true, a knight in shining armor who’s come to save me from myself. I kiss him to satisfy the cravings he brings out in me, wanting to feel his fingers digging into my skin, to taste the first drop that leads to him coming, and have him consume my body physically like he does emotionally. Call me selfish, but he’s right.
We make our own rules.
Leaning back far enough to catch my gaze, he asks, “How do you feel about marble?”
I look around at the bathroom with no idea why he’s asking. “I love it.”
A smirk nothing less than one the devil himself would wear crosses his lips. “Good. Get naked and turn around.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I reply, “As long as you drop the reindeer pants and join me.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I plan to join you all right.”
His words are the starter gun we both needed. I skip the buttons and yank the shirt over my head. My pants are down just after his. Standing naked in the warmth of the bathroom with his erection already at attention and my nipples hard, I turn around.
Eye contact is made in the reflection of the mirror. I watch as his hands come around to cup my breasts, and his mouth covers the bend of my neck, licking me to my shoulders. Sucking and kissing, kneading and squeezing. My body is already turned on and ready.
His erection presses against the crease of my ass, unafraid of pushing forward to make me wonder if that’s his intent. My thoughts start swirling, my pulse now speeding as I try to figure out if that’s something I’m ready for or want.
That’s the thing about Cooper, though. I want everything with him. And if that’s something he desires, I’m not opposed to trying it for the first time.
But then his hand slides between the front of my legs, and his fingers rub my clit. Though I’m already wet and feeling the need for him to fill me, there’s an ounce of relief that we’re only switching things up by being in the bathroom.
When I move against his hand, the pressure feels too good for him to let up. My eyes are already dipping closed, my palms pressed to the cold stone. When I look up, his eyes are fixed on me—my body’s reaction and my facial expressions. I don’t know if I should be embarrassed, but I can’t reason myself into the emotion. Not when he feels this good.
His hand slips away as he kneels to pull a condom from the pocket of the discarded pants, but he doesn’t leave me without for long. Sliding his hand between my thighs, he caresses the apex of my legs before standing back up. Our eyes find each other in the mirror again, and he says, “Bend over and brace yourself, babe.”
I slowly bend, keeping my eyes on him as he rolls the condom down his length. Bracing myself the best I can with my hands on the counter and my fingertips pressed to the bottom of the mirror, I look up once more when he positions himself behind me.
The prod of his erection comes with his hands running over the roundness of my ass and then down between my thighs again. He’s quick to dip into my entrance and then adds another finger just as fast. I’m already squirming, the buildup causing my stomach to tingle in the best of ways as I wait to feel his cock inside me again.
Sex, any form of it, is anticipation and excitement. I may have waited for the right guy to come along, but the way he makes me feel so good, I’ve been missing out all along.
My body is abandoned other than a hand gripping my hip. But I’m not left waiting or wanting long when not only the tip of his dick slips inside me, but the entirety of his length fills me right after.
I jerk forward, the hard thrust catching me off guard despite the warning. His hands skim my back, then he takes hold of my shoulders to follow with a relentless fucking that feels too good to control. I let my mind rest. My thoughts go blank, focusing on the physical and sensations, the here and now, moving on instinct with him, against him, anything that gets me to the release I’m chasing.
But then I slow, and so does he. “I don’t want to race to the finish line.”
He runs the length of my spine with one of his hands again and then dips down to kiss me three times. “Me either.”
Things slow but are just as intense. The fullness that reaches deep in my belly, the steady rocking against my body, the scent of his cologne, and the feel of his hot breath against my skin entrances me until I’m begging for more. “Cooper,” I say breathlessly. “I need you. I need you.” I reach around just to have my hands on his body and feel the muscles in his ass as he moves inside me.
His moans are an aphrodisiac to the onslaught. His groans feed my need, making my body hungrier for the deeper pleasure. My own are forced from my chest with each hard push, and hair that’s pulled from being tangled with his hand. He pulls my head back, our eyes meeting in the reflection, and he growls, “Tell me how much you want me. Tell me how bad you need me.”
Thrusts become harder.
Our bodies move faster.
I brace myself on the counter again, then lick my lips. “I need you so badly, babe.” The words come as a purr and a demand. Then he slams into me. Each measured thrust comes with a kiss to my shoulder until I see the moment he begins to lose control.
“I’m close,” I say, the words hard to express when I never want this to end.
“I want to feel your orgasm cover me. Come for me, baby.”
Despite the request, I desperately cling to the last inklings of this connection, but I’m overcome and dragged into the ecstasy of my release. The pounding doesn’t stop, tipping me to come again before recovering from the first orgasm. Relentless, his body thrusts into me with no rhyme or reason, just raw need driving him until it gets the best of him as well. “Fuck!” My name leaves his mouth like a swear word calling to me, bringing me back to him. “Story.” And then it becomes a chanted prayer on heavy breaths. “Story . . . Story . . . Story.”
He drops down on top of me, and I lie under him with my body pressed to the cold stone and my eyes closed. My breath can’t regulate, and my heart is still beating strong against my rib cage. Loving the feel of him covering me, I would never ask him to leave, to move off me.
With his chest resting on my back and his cheek pressed to my shoulders, the weight of this man matches my emotions, growing heavier by the minute. I’m so tempted to tell him how I feel, how fast I’ve fallen for him. The words hang on the tip of my tongue. I’m ready to taste the words I’ve never said to any man.
“I’m in love with you, Story.”
But he beats me to the punch.
22
Cooper
I’ve never said those words to anyone.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone else either.