Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas

She didn’t pull away, instead pushing against his hand, practically demanding that he touch her more thoroughly. As though he needed to be asked?

His mouth still on her breast, he could feel the raging beat of her heart and knew she was almost out of her mind with excitement. Breathing deeply to inhale that musky, feminine scent that practically drugged him into incoherence, he tugged the elastic away and moved his hand to the curls covering her sex. She whimpered, digging her nails lightly into his bare back. She was begging for more, though she didn’t say a word.

Needing more, too, he slipped his finger between the warm, soft lips of her sex, almost groaning at how slick and wet she was.

“Oh, God,” she cried, her eyes flying open. “Please, don’t stop.”

As if.

“Okay, time for the clothes to go,” he growled.

He helped her push the pants all the way down and off, and once she was naked in his lap, he had to just pause and visually drink her in. She was perfect, from head to foot, laid out in front of him like a feast. He didn’t know where to start, he just knew he already didn’t want it to end.

He reached down to the front of his jeans, unfastening them, wanting to get naked and pull her leg across his lap to straddle him. Sitting there, looking up at her while she rode him sounded like the perfect way to start this night.

“Ross?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Um…there’s something you probably should know.”

“Unless the house is on fire, there’s nothing I really need to hear right now,” he said as he unzipped and pushed the jeans down his hips. His body was already on fire, and as he pushed his shorts away, too, and his cock came into contact with her bare hip, he groaned.

She gasped. “Oh, my goodness.”

“Give me another five minutes and it will be both yours, and good,” he told her as he stopped to kiss her breast, and stroke that sweet, quivering spot between her thighs.

“Ross, uh, really, I need to tell you something.”

Hearing the quaver in her voice, and feeling the slight stiffness of her body, he finally shook off the haze of lust in his head. He lifted his mouth from her perfect breast and slid his hand into safer territory down on her thigh.

“What’s wrong?”

She lowered her head, eyeing him through a long strand of hair. Lucy’s cheeks were pink, like she was embarrassed. Well, hell, they’d known each other less than a day and now she was lying naked on his lap. But she wouldn’t be embarrassed for long, not once he showed her how much he wanted her.

“Um…I just wanted to say…”

She bit her lip, shook her head slightly. Which was when a thought—a shocking, crazy one—burst into his head. His whole body went stiff and he leaned back into the couch.

“Lucy, are you trying to tell me you’ve never done this before?”

A hesitation, then she slowly nodded. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Holy shit. She was naked in his arms, thrusting into his hand like she needed to come or die and she was a virgin?

Well, honestly, the needing to come or die made sense. Seriously, how many twenty-two-year-old virgins were out there? He’d certainly never met one. The beautiful, sexy woman had to be a seething mass of sexual frustration.

Something he could well appreciate right now.

“I mean, you said you and Jude had never…but, seriously, nobody else, either?”

“No. Never.”

“That’s incredible.”

“I guess right around the time most girls were giving it away in the backseats of their boyfriends’ cars, I was grieving and helping my brother figure out what to do about our parents’ business, their house, their lives. And ours. It just sort of…never happened.”

He nodded, understanding. She hadn’t been thrust into the role of sexual grown-up while in high school. She’d landed in the adult world through one brutal tragedy.

That, as much as the fact that he was not a ruthless bastard like Jude, was enough to make Ross find the strength to do what had to be done. Knowing he’d have blue balls tonight, he still cleared his throat and carefully pushed her off his lap.

“Okay. It’s all right, Lucy, I understand.”

She grabbed his arm before he could get off the couch and head toward the bathroom for an icy cold shower.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Reaching for his face, she cupped his cheeks in her hands and leaned close, her soft hair falling onto his bare shoulders. “I want you, Ross. I want you to be my first. Now. Tonight.”

LUCY HAD THOUGHT a lot about the moment when she’d finally have sex. She’d pictured it being with someone she knew, someone she’d dated for a long time, someone she trusted.

Well, one out of three wasn’t bad, right?

She didn’t know Ross that well. She’d never dated him.

But she trusted him. Oh, did she trust him.

Telling him the truth about herself hadn’t been easy, but she certainly wasn’t going to try to fake her way through her first time having sex. Not only was that unfair to herself, it was unfair to him. He deserved the chance to say, “Thanks but no thanks.” After all, some guys just didn’t seem to want to deal with the drama of it.

She would have predicted Ross wouldn’t be one of those guys.

She wouldn’t have predicted the incredibly tender, loving way he kissed her, then stood and took her by the hand to lead her to his bedroom. As if now that he knew the truth, the responsibility of it was weighing on him, and he didn’t want a quick lay on a couch. Like she deserved the whole package, big bed and all.

The walk to the bedroom seemed incredibly long. And while her whole body was still burning from the incredible way he’d touched her, she couldn’t deny a faint trepidation, the tiniest bit of self-consciousness.

After all, she was naked. He still wore jeans. And she’d just told him she was a virgin.

“It’s okay,” he told her when they’d reached his room, standing by his bed. He brushed her hair off her face, then touched her cheek. “It’s gonna be fine.”

She smiled. “Do you think I’m afraid?”

He eyed her, visibly unsure.

“I’m not scared, Ross. Maybe a little embarrassed about being so…exposed.”

He stepped back and looked at her naked body, shaking his head slowly and rubbing his jaw, as if he just didn’t know what to say. Then he said exactly the right thing. “If there’s any such thing as a perfect woman, Lucy Fleming, you’re her.”

She went soft and gooey inside, everywhere she wasn’t already soft and gooey. As she’d already suspected, she’d most definitely chosen well.

“Thank you.”

“So don’t be nervous, Luce, I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he added, tenderly cupping her cheek.

“I won’t. I swear to you, my only fear is that it won’t be as good as I’ve made it out to be in my head.”

A slow smile curled those handsome lips upward. He shook his head, then sunk his hands in her hair and dragged her close.

“It’ll be better. I guaran-damn-tee it.”

He pushed her down onto the bed, and set about proving it.

Lucy honestly hadn’t known sex could be both incredibly hot and amazingly tender. He kissed her deeply, slowly, like he wanted to memorize the taste of her mouth. And his hands did magical things to her, gliding across her breasts, offering her barely there caresses that left her a quivering pile of sensation.

But then, his control would slip a little. He’d groan as he nipped her breast, or shake when she reached out and brushed her fingertips against the soft head of his erection. Lucy wanted to do more, longed to explore his body, but he seemed determined to make this all totally and completely about her.

Which was wonderful…and incredibly arousing.

“Please,” she said on a sob when he again teased her clit with his fingers, giving her light touches that made her long for firmer ones. Her hips thrusting, Lucy was on the verge of going over the top, she knew that from her own explorations of her body. and she was dying for it.

As if knowing he’d teased her as much as he could before she smacked him, Ross murmured something sweet and unintelligible, then slid a finger inside her. She practically cooed; the unfamiliar invasion felt so good. He moved his thumb back to her clit and this time, there was no teasing. Just slow, deliberate caresses, with just the pressure she needed.

Her breaths grew choppy. Sighs turned into gasps when he slid another finger into her channel, using both to stretch and fill her, even while he continued stroking her clit.

Then it came, sweet, warm relief. She quivered as the orgasm rolled over her, amazed at how much stronger it was when shared. She cried out, let her body shake and stretch, then sagged back into the pillows.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.

“So are you,” she said, absolutely meaning it. Ross’s body was delicious—so hard and muscular, all power and steel. When combined with the thoughtfulness, the boyish smile, the twinkle in his green eyes, he was an absolutely irresistible male package.

She smiled at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I want you now.”

He didn’t ask if she was sure, as if knowing they were way past that. Reaching for a drawer in the bedside table, he took out a condom. Lucy caught her lip between her teeth, watching as he maneuvered the tight sheath over his thick, powerful erection. Seeing the rubber stretch to accommodate him, she felt the first thrills of nervousness. But they were immediately drowned out by utter excitement.

Just watching him sent even more heat to her sex and she had to drop her legs apart, the skin there was so engorged and sensitive. Ross looked down at her, masculine appreciation written all over his face, then moved between her thighs.

“Tell me if…”

“I will,” she said, cutting him off. Then she lifted her hips, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and staring up at him.

They didn’t kiss. They didn’t blink. They barely breathed.

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat when she felt his rigid warmth probing into her, nuzzling between her folds and into the slick opening of her body. He moved slowly, so carefully, so tenderly. Each bit of himself he gave her just made her hungry for more.

She arched her hips toward him, silently telling him to continue. Seeing the clenched muscles in his neck, the sweat on his brow, she knew he was hanging on tightly to his control.

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Please, Ross, please fill me up.”

He bent to her, covered her lips with his and kissed her deeply. And with each stroke of his tongue, he pushed into her, filling her, inch by inch, until he was buried inside her.

There had been only the tiniest hint of pain; now there was just fullness. Thickness. A sense that she’d finally been made whole and didn’t ever want to go back to feeling empty again. Like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Definitely.”

She slid her legs tighter around his, holding him close. Ross began to pull out, then slowly thrust back in, setting an easy pace. She caught it, matched it, giving when he took, taking when he pulled back. It was, she realized, like dancing…one step he led, then she did. Only no dance move had ever felt so good, so sinfully delicious.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, picking up the pace.

She knew his control was slipping. Frankly she marveled that he’d been able to maintain it this long. Every molecule in her body was urging her to thrust and writhe, to just take in so much pleasure that she’d never remember what it was like to not feel it. She knew he had to be feeling the same.

The rhythm sped up a little, his thrusts deepening. Lucy met him stroke for stroke, clinging to his broad shoulders, sharing kiss after kiss. Reality had faded, there was nothing else except this feeling, this rightness. This perfect guy on this perfect night.

And then, the perfect moment. Warm delight spilled through her as she climaxed again, differently than she ever had before. It started deep inside and radiated out, a ripple widening into a wave.

Even as she savored the long, deep sensations, she heard Ross’s shallow breaths grow louder and felt him tense against her.

“Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered as he strained toward his own release.

His low cry and the deepest thrust of all signaled that he’d found it. He buried his face in her hair and continued to pump into her, as if every bit of him had been wrung dry.

Though she knew he had to be totally spent, he didn’t collapse on top of her. Instead, Ross rolled onto his side and tugged her with him. They were still joined, and she slid her thigh over his hip, liking the connection.

His eyes were closed, his lips parted as he drew in deep breaths. When he finally opened them, she didn’t even try to hide her smile.

“What?”

“I liked it.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad.”

“When can we do it again?”

His chuckle turned into a deep, masculine laugh. “Give me a half hour.”

She stuck out her lower lip in a pretend pout.

“Okay, okay,” he said, reaching down and stroking her hip. “Twenty minutes.”

“I guess I can live with that,” she said, with a teasing smile. She rubbed against him, stealing his warmth. The bedroom was cool, but She definitely hadn’t noticed it before. Ross gave off a lot of heat…whether he was right beside her or across the room.

She much preferred him right beside her.

They fell silent for a few moments, just touching each other, exchanging lazy kisses. She loved the way he kept a possessive hand on her, as if making sure she didn’t disappear on him.

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