Mail-Order Brides For Christmas - Frankie Love Page 0,74
streets, but who can resist an alpha male in the sheets?
He trails kisses down my neck, nipping gently at my collarbone. “Take off your shirt,” he murmurs against my skin, and I’m all too happy to oblige. I remember with a jolt that I’m just wearing an old sports bra--not exactly my first choice of sexy lingerie. “Take that off, too,” he says, and I realize that it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing because it will all be on the floor soon.
As soon as my ample breasts are exposed, he cups them in his hands and moans. “Goddamn,” he breathes, rubbing his thumbs gently over my sensitive nipples. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Jenna.” He skims his hands down the hourglass of my figure and then hooks his fingers in my shorts. With a raised brow, he asks permission. I give it with a desperate moan.
Matt pulls my shorts off in one fluid motion, tossing them to the floor. He grabs my ass in his hands, grinning at me like a kid in a candy store. Then, as he captures my mouth with his again, he smacks my ass, hard enough for me to yelp. Immediately, his hands are back, smoothing over the reddening skin, then moving up and down my back, exploring the rest of me. His touch is tender yet firm, and that of a man who knows exactly how to please a woman.
And, boy, am I eager to be pleased by this gorgeous, godlike alpha male.
When he slips off my panties, I begin unbuttoning his pants, eager to get a better look at the bulge I brushed earlier. He kicks off his pants and keeps kissing me, his tongue pushing past my lips. God, this man is a good kisser. Occasionally, when I least expect it, he sucks or nibbles on my bottom lip, sending vibrations through my innermost core. I do my best to keep up; the low moans he makes tell me that I’m doing a good job.
I gasp as Matt brushes his hand against my mound. “Sit back on the table,” he murmurs as he breaks our kiss, his eyes flashing.
I look hesitantly behind me. Our plates only take up half the table; I could hypothetically sit, or lay, on the other half. But what if I’m too heavy? “Um,” I begin, but he silences me with a look.
“Sit on the table,” he repeats in a commanding voice. “I won’t say it again.”
My lips quiver, and I follow his instruction, balancing tentatively on the edge of the table. He slowly strides over to me, bronzed and resplendent just in his tight black boxer briefs. I can see the outline of his cock standing at attention, just for me, and the sight makes my mouth water. When did you get this horny, Jenna? I ask myself incredulously as he kneels in front of me. The answer, I suppose, is when I met Matt Mistletoe.
His hand brushes over my mound again, his eyes locked on mine. Then, he starts rubbing slow circles on my sensitive nub, making my toes curl in pleasure. When he replaces his hand with his warm, velvety mouth, I nearly leap out of my skin. I can’t remember the last time someone went down on me, especially someone this gorgeous.
“Oh god,” I pant deliriously, tilting my head back as he goes to town. “Yes!”
I enjoy his ministrations for what feels like hours, losing myself in the warmth of his tongue, the rhythmic sound of his breath, and the gentle pressure of his hands on my thighs. He seems to be able to read my mind, and he licks when I want him to lick, sucks when I want him to suck, and strokes exactly where it feels best. When he inserts a finger into my dripping sex, I let out a cry and sit up in ecstatic bliss. My center, my skin, and my entire body seem to be vibrating and pulsing with pleasure.
“Are you going to come for me?” Matt whispers, and I nod helplessly. A frantic whine escapes my lips when, suddenly, he stops.
“Not yet,” he growls. Then, he peels off his briefs, revealing the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen. It’s as thick as a soda can at the base, an impressive length, and moderately curved: in short, it’s everything a girl could dream of.
“Oh, my God,” I murmur, despite myself. “Please put that inside of me right now.”
“Yeah?” Matt smirks at me, slowly pumping his hand along his length,