Page 41 of Unwrapped

And then Sophie is gasping, breathing hard and fast, her pussy clamping down on me even harder, and holy shit, she’s coming on my cock. Her back arches off the floor, her head thrown back, and my restraint is completely destroyed.

I fuck her through it, driving into her, and then my own orgasm slams through me. I groan, my hips stuttering, and come so hard my vision blanks. My cock pulses inside her, emptying into the condom, and I collapse on top of her, careful to keep my weight on my forearms.

I can’t move. All I can do is try to catch my breath. Eventually I become aware of her heart hammering against my chest, her breath hot on my neck. The fire crackles.

“Holy shit,” Sophie whispers.

I laugh, a shaky, breathless sound, and drop my forehead to her shoulder. “Yeah.”

She runs her fingers through my hair, and I close my eyes and let myself exist in this moment—this impossible, perfect moment—with Sophie warm and spent beneath me and the Christmas lights glimmering beside us.

Twelve

DECEMBER 26

Vince

Iopen the refrigerator and survey the aftermath of Christmas dinner. Turkey in a foil pan, most of a spiral-cut ham, green beans, cranberry sauce, stuffing, an untouched pumpkin pie. Too much food for just the two of us. We barely made a dent in any of it.

Sophie and I have had a lazy morning—she woke me with her mouth, then fell back asleep against my chest for another hour, and we’ve been drifting through the house in our sweatpants and bare feet ever since. No schedule, no obligations, just the two of us and the whole day to ourselves.

I’m trying to organize the fridge when Sophie wanders into the kitchen, her dark hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot. She’s wearing one of my old t-shirts and a pair of leggings, and the sight of her in my shirt makes my heart squeeze—the comfort and familiarity of it, the casual intimacy.

“God, I’m starving,” she announces, peering into the fridge beside me.

“Take your pick. We’ve got enough food to last until February. How about turkey sandwiches?”

She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think I can eat any more turkey.”

“Ham?”

“Hmm.” She considers the contents of the refrigerator. “How about just a charcuterie board? We’ve got cheese, crackers, and olives.”

“Perfect.” I’m not even hungry. I’m consumed by a different type of hunger, a hunger for Sophie. Food seems unimportant in comparison, a waste of time.

But while Sophie fetches a big wooden serving board, I slice some ham and cheese. We add crackers, grapes, olives, and a handful of nuts from the pantry. Sophie arranges everything in neat little sections. She opens a box of Christmas chocolates and adds a few truffles to one corner.

“Chocolate and ham?”

“Don’t be so conventional.”

I chuckle at that, watching her add another chocolate to the board. She catches me smiling at her and smiles back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. She’s so damn beautiful, especially when she’s happy like this.

I reach for her hand and draw her toward me. She comes around the end of the island, smiling as she stops in front of me. I slide my hands up her sides, under the hem of the t-shirt, and feel her warm skin. Her breath hitches and I kiss her. I’m hard in my sweatpants almost immediately. The slightest touch, and my body responds like it’s been waiting its whole life for permission.

“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are?” I murmur against her mouth. I push the t-shirt up and palm her bare breast, feeling her nipple harden against my palm. “Do you know how fucking crazy you make me?”

She exhales, running her fingers up my neck into my scalp, tracing light lines with her nails. “God, Vince,” she breathes. “I never thought it would be like this. The way you make me feel.” She reaches her hand down to my crotch and feels my erection tenting the fabric, circling her hand around my shaft.

I groan at the slight movement of her hand, ready for her again. Ready to throw the charcuterie board to the floor, lay her out on the island, and fuck her right here.

“You know what I really want to eat for lunch?” I ask, lowering my gaze to meet her eyes. She smiles, already anticipating the answer. “You.”

Color rises to her face, pupils dilating. “Again?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod. “These need to come off.” I tug at the waistband of her leggings and she lets go of my cock, peeling them down her legs.

The sight of her bare makes my cock throb, like I haven’t been familiarizing myself with her pussy almost nonstop for the past twenty-four hours. I drop to my knees on the kitchen floor in front of her and place my palms on her thighs, my thumbs pulling her folds apart as I slide my tongue in between them. She’s already slick, whimpering as I drag my tongue through her folds before circling her clit.