A Very Grumpy Lumberjack Christmas

12. Luke

12

LUKE

N oel’s cunt still ripples, her orgasm continuing as I drive into her. I bottom out, and her head falls back, mouth dropping open on a strangled moan that rolls over me like a tidal wave. My entire body trembles, and she clenches around me so tightly that I almost come on the spot.

Eight fucking years without this woman.

Without this feeling.

Without her kiss, her touch.

Without her.

It takes every ounce of willpower—more than I ever thought I possessed—not to unload deep inside of her immediately, not to take that pleasure for myself instead of giving her more.

But it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

To make her happy.

To see her eyes light up and pleasure cross her face, the same way it did today staring up at the tree in the town square, when she looks at me.

I draw my hips back and plunge into her again, and the way she gasps and tightens around me assures me I’m doing just that. But I need to see it, too.

“Look at me, Noel.”

She whimpers, and I still my hips until she complies, allowing her lids to flutter open. “Please, Luke, don’t stop…”

“Oh, Snowflake…” I drop my head and capture her mouth and her next groan as my hips slam into hers and I grind my pelvis against her engorged clit, ensuring the most contact possible. Reluctantly tearing my lips from hers, I brush my thumb across them. “I have absolutely no intention of stopping until you have to spend all of Christmas Day on this rug or in my bed because you can’t walk straight.”

Lust flares hot in her gaze, that burning desire I feel raging through my body now reflected back at me.

Her hands score down the back of my neck, making my cock twitch inside of her. “That’s your plan?”

I raise a brow at her, stilling my hand on her cheek. “Do you have a problem with it?”

A coy smile tilts her lips slightly, and she wraps her legs around my back, angling them to allow me to slip the tiniest bit deeper.

“Fuck…”

Noel feels even better than I remember, better than I thought possible.

Every dream.

Every memory I ever had of this woman was such perfection that I convinced myself none of it could be real, that the memories were fake. Something I built up and created in my head because nothing that perfect could possibly exist.

But what I had in my head was nothing compared to the real thing.

I take her mouth again, needing that connection as much as the one currently linking us together.

She tastes like she smells .

Peppermint, lust, and everything I ever wanted.

I pull back and plunge into her again, eliciting a throaty moan that almost undoes me.

Touching her was a terrible idea, bringing her here, thinking there was any chance we wouldn’t end up like this, that I wouldn’t want it. And now that my cock is buried deep inside her, now that I’ve tasted her again and felt her, I don’t know how I’ll possibly let her go.

I tunnel my hands into her hair and tug her head up off the floor. With her eyes closed again, I’ve lost that confirmation I so desperately need that this is real and not some mirage brought on by exhaustion and desperation after seeing her yesterday.

“Open. Your. Eyes, Snowflake.”

My voice comes out rough, gravelly, full of the desire currently consuming me, and the frantic struggle to keep my body under control long enough to make her come again before I do.

She mewls, rolling her hips to meet mine as I maintain a languid pace. Her lids finally flicker open, and she stares up at me, the light from the fire dancing across her blue orbs, lighting one side of her face so beautifully in the soft glow that she looks like a fucking angel sent here to destroy me.

“You know what I want, Snowflake. What I need you to do…”

I roll my hips and drive up with a hard snap, then withdraw incredibly slowly, only to do it again, the methodic, languid rhythm designed not merely to slow myself down but also to get her there again.

Not in a wicked-hot rush.

A slow build that will rush through her even harder than before.

“I don’t think—” She swallows thickly, struggling to keep her eyes open as I keep moving my hips almost mindlessly. “Luke, I-I-I don’t think I can.”

“Oh, Snowflake…” I flutter a kiss across her brow, then lock my gaze with hers, holding her there while I continue my long, hard thrusts. “I know you can.”

I kiss her deeply, gliding my tongue along her lips until she opens for me and greets mine with her own, twisting and warring, her frustration building to find the thing I want to give her so badly, the thing I never thought I could offer her again.

“You are going to come again for me, Noel…and it’s going to be as beautiful as the first time, but you’re going to do it on my cock. Because I want to feel it.” I nip at her bottom lip. “I want to feel your cunt squeezing me, desperate for it.”

She twitches against me, nodding her agreement.

And if I keep going like this, it will get her there.

Torturously slowly.

But not just agonizing for her.

My cock has never felt so hard. I’ve never been so close to losing all control. Not in all the years we were together. Not in all the times we did this. Not during my most frantic moment in the past.

I want to drag it out, but I am weak.

A man desperate to see her come again. To allow myself to release everything I’ve held inside for so long. To fill her and feel complete again.

And I know what she really needs.

What will get her over that edge again, the one that she’s fighting so hard to dance along without toppling over it because she fears what it will mean for her heart as much as I do.

Dropping my head low against her ear, I drag my teeth along it, and she bucks. “Get ready, Snowflake.”

She whimpers, and I pull back and slip out of her .

Her eyes fly open, her mouth falling agape in protest, but I smack the side of her bare thigh and wait.

I don’t need to tell her what I’m asking for.

Noel knows, her eyes flaring as she moves without hesitation, flipping onto her stomach and pushing up onto all fours, offering herself to me the way we always both loved.

And fuck is she stunning.

A Christmas angel…

The fire light dancing across her pale skin, glimmering in her golden hair, flashing off her brilliant, silken ass. I glide my palms over it and across her lower back, up along her spine, and to her shoulders. Every brush of my palms leaves goosebumps and makes her shudder in the best way.

I take her hair in my hand and wrap it around my left wrist, jerking her head back.

She gasps and looks back at me the best she can, cheeks flamed and lips half open, ready to beg.

My free hand collides with her right ass cheek, hard enough to rock her forward, but she comes right back for more.

This time, I give her my cock.

I fit it to her slick core and drive into her again. Only my arm wrapped around her waist and my hand in her hair keep her from collapsing under the force and weight of my thrust.

“Oh, God…”

Her words echo around the space—part plea, part prayer.

And I draw my hips back and do it again.

I angle her back slightly so the head of my cock will hit and drag against that perfect spot deep inside her. She gasps, dropping down onto her forearms and burying her face there.

Jerking on her hair again, harder this time, I force her back up. “No, Snowflake. I want you like this so I can see your face, so you can see mine and you’ ll know who’s fucking you.” I lean forward, pressing my chest to her back, kissing her neck. “So you’ll never fucking forget it. Never forget me.”

It’s as stupid an admission as the one I made in the bathroom earlier.

A far more dangerous one, considering she’ll be gone in a handful of days and I’ll be left with nothing more than the memories of this snowstorm and how she gave herself to me one final time.

Noel shakes her head as much as my grip allows, and a single tear trickles from her eye down her soft cheek. “I never forgot you, Luke—” A little mewl slips out as I drive into her. “How could I—” She gasps as I bottom out deep. “I couldn’t ever. I—”

Again and again, I steal her words.

Not because I don’t want to hear them or that I don’t believe them, but because I’m on the brink of losing control. It’s slipping the same way my cock is in her first release.

So fucking slick.

Her body accepts me and everything I have to offer her.

She clenches down on me with each retreat, her body struggling to keep me inside her.

I know she’s almost there.

Each slam of my pelvis into her lush ass, each grind deep, drawing her closer.

Her legs start trembling so badly that she has trouble staying up.

I tighten my grip on her waist and her hair, pinning her and holding her steady, watching my wet cock glide in and out of her. “I wish you could see this, Noel, how fucking beautiful you look taking my cock, how soaking wet you are for me.” Leaning forward, I kiss the back of her exposed neck, all the way to her ear, as I snap my hips again. “I wish you could feel your cunt. How hot and tight it is, how fucking perfectly you fit me. I wish you knew what fucking torture it’s been to be without you…without this .”

She whimpers at my words, squeezing so hard that I feel that first spurt of cum start to make its way out.

I twist her hair harder and jerk her head back. “I’m not ready for that yet. Not ready to let you go.”

And I don’t want to examine what I really mean by that.

Instead, I pull my hips back until just the head of my cock stays inside her, trying to rein myself in long enough to regain control.

Her eyes flutter open, and she looks back at me, an almost pained look pinching her brow. “But I need it, Luke. I need you. Please give it to me.”

“Fucking hell.”

That thin cord of control snaps, and I drive into her hard, tightening my grip until I probably bruise her hip and might come away with some strands of her hair, too.

Each slam and retreat grows more frantic, more demanding.

Until her gasps and my own fill the air along with the rattling wind.

Until all I can feel is her cunt and her need and my own.

Until she finally comes, crying out and drawing my own orgasm free with her grasping pussy.

Until I bury myself so deep inside of her that I hope I never find my way out.

It’s a beautiful dream, but one that can’t last forever.

She sags in my hold, and I can’t keep her up anymore, my own body feeling boneless and my head hazy in the afterglow of the cataclysmic release.

Releasing her hair, I wrap my arm around her chest, tugging her fully against me so I can roll to the rug on my side and take her with me without her slamming into the unyielding wooden boards.

My still-hard cock twitches inside her, and she moans and rubs back against me in a way that could get me ready for round two before round one even clears my head.

I nip at her ear from behind her, releasing a little growl. “Stop that.”

She peeks over her shoulder at me through thick lashes. “Why?”

“Because I already told you I want to fuck you in that sweater next, and I am not ready to let go of you long enough for you to put it on.” I cup her breast in her bra, brushing my thumb over the taut peak, pressing against the silky fabric. “I’m good right where I am for the moment.”

A little gasp falls from her lips, and then she giggles. “You were serious about the sweater?”

I bark out a laugh, my body shaking. “I was…it reminds me of that time when you and your mom came to help my mom make Christmas cookies—”

“And we snuck out to the barn for a quickie between batches.”

Burying my face in her hair, I inhale that peppermint scent and tighten my grip on her. “You were wearing—”

“The one with the silver bells sewn onto it.”

The laughter returns, and I nuzzle her. “That sound every time I slammed into you still rings in my ears.”

As do those sounds she made before I slid my hand over her mouth to keep her silent in case either of our mothers came looking for us.

Her body goes impossibly still. “That was…our last Christmas together.”

A heaviness settles over us, one I feel deep in my soul.

I squeeze her, then pull free with a wince, urging her onto her back so I can prop myself up on my elbow and really see her.

“What is your Christmas wish, Snowflake?” I cup her chin in my hand and tilt her head up, forcing her gaze to meet mine. “What do you want that I am capable of giving you?”

Because there are two things I know I can’t do that would be at the top of her list.

I can’t bring her father back, and this storm will not let me get her back to her mom in time to celebrate the holiday unless we wake to some miracle.

Noel pulls her bottom lip under her teeth again, considering my question, then relaxes against me, resting her head over my heart. Her breathing evens out, growing softer as she nears sleep. “I just want to have Christmas. A real one…”