Page 48 of Merry Mischief List
“Come on,” I taunt, throwing my head back against the pillow. “At this rate, you’ll come before me.”
A guttural laugh escapes him. “Trust me, I’m perfectly capable of maintaining my composure.”
He presses his lips to mine, tongue slipping into my mouth. The pressure of his hand on my neck, his dick deep inside of me, the taste of him—it’s all too much.
Like a lit firecracker, every signal shoots off at once, and I moan loudly in pleasure. Porter continues as I ride out the wave of the orgasm until I’m nothing but a puddle beneath him. “You all done, Cupcake?”
I pant hard as he slows his thrusts. “Fuck you.”
He laughs and increases his pace again. “Gladly.”
Shortly after, his cock jerks against my inner walls, and he stills above me.
He pushes the blindfold off my eyes and stares down at me. “Looks like I’m the winner.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
17
PORTER
“My grandma always said the key to good gingerbread dough is preparing it the day before,” Andi tells me, kneading the mixture on the flour-covered kitchen counter.
“Sounds like a smart woman,” I reply, using my thumbs to massage her pretty bruised-up neck.I may have gotten a bit carried away with the hickies.
“She is,” Andi agrees, plopping the finished dough in a bowl and covering it with plastic wrap. “Usually I would’ve made it this morning, butsomebodywas distracting me all day.”
“Since when are orgasms a distraction?” I spin her to face me and slide a hand into her hair, angling her mouth toward mine, relieved I can do it freely now that we’ve finally given into our attraction. I was wondering how Andi would feel this morning, but given she was the one who wokemeup with a sunrise blowjob, it seems we’re on the same page as of now. And we’ve been “getting it out of our systems” all day.
In the shower.
On the couch.
On the kitchen counter.
And now I’m scanning the room for another area we can christen.
“Since you used it as a method to delay me from completing important tasks,” she says, interrupting my plotting. “Like the Christmas Eve tradition of preparing gingerbread dough.” I scoop her up, placing her on the counter, and she bats at me with flour-covered hands. “Porter! You’re making a mess.”
“If you’d stop swatting, my kitchen wouldn’t look like a broken snow globe,” I point out.
“Oh, really?” She reaches behind her, then taps a flour-covered hand against my face, a small white puff surrounding us.
“You looking for punishment, little miss mischief?”
Andi bats her long dark lashes at me. “Whatever do you mean?” She slides a hand over my hard dick and gives it a soft squeeze. “Looks likelittleCoach is in the mood for some trouble.”
“Little?” I scoff, cocking a brow. “You really wanna—” The doorbell rings, and I groan. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Want me to get it so you can”—Andi’s eyes drop to my very obvious hard-on—“readjust yourself?”
“Considering I don’t know who it is and you’re not even supposed to be here? Hard no.”
I walk to the front door, brushing the flour off my crotch on the way, fully prepared to tell some Christmas carolers to fuck off. I swing the door open, and a laugh rips out of me instead.
“Ho ho ho,” Knox bellows, dressed head to toe in a Santa outfit, sans beard, with a red velvet sack swung over his shoulder.
“What the hell are you wearing?” I ask, eyeing him with amusement.
