“I’m officially begging,” she rasped out. “Please, please fuck me.”
I hummed in thought, stepping close to her again and wrapping my arm around her cold waist in an iron band. My dick pressed against her ass, and I saw white spots in my vision for a second. “Can I get that in writing?”
She said my name like a curse word, and my smile widened. Kissing her shoulder, I positioned my cock against her soaked entrance. “Since you’ve asked so nicely.”
“Fuck me or else,” she snarled.
I laughed, and then it cut off with a strangled sound as she pushed back against me, sucking the tip of my dick into her tight pussy. I had no power here. Suddenly, I would have done anything, lowered myself and debased my name if only to bury myself deep inside of this woman. A guttural sound of satisfaction rolled up my throat, and I pressed into her, supporting her waist with my left arm and then bringing my right hand around the front of her to find her swollen clit.
She sounded desperate again, moving against me and taking me deeper each time, rocking her pelvis against my fingers. Her knuckles had gone bone white around the straps above her, and she bowed her head again. “Please, Spence. I’m so close.”
I was too, dammit, and I hadn’t even moved yet. I circled her clit gently, indirectly, prolonging our pleasure just a little moreas I sank deep inside of her. And just as my hips met her ass, I slid back out, slowly at first and giving her time to adjust. She moaned, deep from her chest, and then I pushed back into her slick heat, and my world spun. I lost myself in the pleasure of it. Pumping in and out of her, picking up rhythm, I teased her clit and fucked her with hard, firm strokes.
My own breathing picked up. My balls tightened, and the tension radiating from my groin and down my thighs nearly overwhelmed rational thought. I gritted my teeth, overcome by the sheer gratification of being deep inside of her, buried to the hilt and filling her fully.
“Theo,” she shrieked, her body coiling tightly and her hips suddenly stalling.
“Come for me, Arabella,” I whispered harshly, feeling the surge of my own relief poised at its summit. “Let go. I have you.”
She did, crying out and trembling from her bare toes to her bowed head. As her cunt squeezed me tightly, pulsing in strong waves, I let my own release take me with a low growl of appreciation, pumping fast and hard to carry me through it.
My chest pressed into her bare back as we breathed hard, the puffs of air filling the quiet barn and punctuating the ringing in my ears. I had just come so hard, I had been a breath away from passing out.
Arabella let her hands fall from the straps, and I took them in my hands, rubbing her wrists and then wrapping her in a warm hug from behind. She pressed her face against my arm, sucking in air like she’d run through an underground tunnel again. I tried to gather my wits, listening to her breathing for any hint that I might have caused a flare-up in her lungs, but they sounded clear.
I slumped, pulling up my pants, and then I slid to the floor, taking Ara with me. I pulled her onto my lap and rested my back against the barn wall before stretching my legs out. Arabellacurled up like a long-legged cat, resting her head against my shoulder. “What the fuck, Spencer?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said with a half grin.
Her head lolled back as she peered up at me. “Remind me what I did to deserve that punishment.”
“Why? So you can get out of it?” I shook my head, kissing her temple. “Not a chance.”
“No, so I can make you do it again.”
Chapter twenty-five
Arabella
Iwoke up wrapped in Spencer’s arms under the Christmas tree. I let myself rest against his chest, blinking sleepily under the warmth of the quilts. It was Christmas morning, and I was folded up in a tidy package of contentment—it wasn’t a gift I ever thought I’d receive. I tried to savor the moment, gazing up through the absurdly long pine boughs while morning sunlight filtered into my cozy living room. My hip was a little sore from sleeping on the rug, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
Last night didn’t feel real. We’d eaten dinner together, laughing over childhood memories and some of the better stories I had from my early days as a vet. And then Spencer had worshiped my body, drawing writhing moans from me like a fucking magician until I couldn’t breathe. We’d talked about nothing afterward, slipping seamlessly from burning lust to contended companionship in a way that made it feel like a dream.
And now, in the light of day, I wondered if it would fade. Had it been a one-time thing? A shimmer of magic that had drifteddown from legends of gift-giving saints? Or had it been real? Had it been a spell we’d created on our own? Could we possibly maintain such a thing?
I hadn’t realized that I’d allowed myself to keep hoping. All night with Spencer and then as I’d dreamed, I’d held onto it, until I found myself cradling it tenderly in the daylight. I slipped my hand out from the blanket and cupped it against a backdrop of twinkling lights.
What the fuck should I do with it?
Spencer stirred, his arms subconsciously tightening around me. He inhaled awake, and then his hands rubbed my back like it was the most natural thing in the world to do when he opened his eyes. His first thought was to comfort me, and that knowledge caused a tremble of fear inside of me. He was far too good, too kind, too thoughtful for someone like me.
He picked up his head, his top knot mussed and his dark eyes squinting. He groaned. “Bee… I might be too old to fall asleep on the floor.”
I laughed, lifting myself away from him and stretching with a wince. “Same.”
He sat up with me, pulling the blanket away from himself and wrapping it around my shoulders. He grunted like a bear waking from a long hibernation, forcing his lithe body up and into a stretch that rolled his shoulders and arched his back. “I’ll go get some wood for the stove.”
I hid half my face under the blanket, keeping my eyes just above the edge. “There’s an HVAC system.”
