Christmas at Fox Ridge

16. Eira

Chapter sixteen

Eira

T he warmth of his breath on the small patch of skin behind my ear makes my heart stutter.

“Come on, baby. Let me give you this.”

Shutting my eyes, an answer tumbles out—unconvincing as it may be. “Okay.”

I’ve always been a maladaptive daydreamer, getting so lost in the images my mind conjures I briefly lose sense of reality. To process and move on, I bring my wild imaginings to life through whichever medium best suits. I need the moment when I step back from my art and think yes, that’s exactly what I had pictured it would look like . Then I’m free to carry on and find a new daydream.

Lucas hands me my iPad, grinning ear to ear as I unlock it. He pulls up the image, glancing over just in time to catch the rosey flush blossom out from my chest.

His eyes study the screen in careful detail, and he holds a smile behind his closed fist. “Fuck, I almost forgot how hot this is.”

“Lucas, we don’t have to do this if it’s too much.”

“ Too much? ” He laughs, setting the tablet down and standing to carefully unwind two long strands from the tree. “Baby, there’s nothing you could ask me to do that would be too much.”

The silver garland sparkles and shines, reflecting the steadily changing coloured light bulbs on nearly every tree branch. He wraps the tinsel around his neck like a scarf as he kneels between my open legs. The crackle of the wood fire has me startling, my nerve endings already on high alert, pulse racing at the thought of what we’re about to do.

“You tell me to lick your pussy,” he leans in and swipes his tongue up my slit, ending with a small flourish on my clit that sends a vibration through my entire body, “and I’ll eat you all fucking night.”

He sits back up, cool air blowing across my damp skin at the loss of him.

“You tell me to kiss you?” His lips, still wet with my arousal, softly press to mine. Hovering just above my mouth, he continues to speak. “Baby, I’ll kiss you every day for the rest of my goddamn life.”

The promise of every day sounds so good, my lips prickle and purse, earning me another honeyed kiss just before he sits back.

“My girl wants to be bound in tinsel?” He smirks, taking hold of my hands. “Fucking hell, I’m going to earn a damn Scouts badge for my knot-tying abilities. I’ve never done this before… just so you know.”

“Neither have I. But… I-I’ve wanted to.”

“If you trust me enough to do this, I promise to take care of you, Eira. I know I got a little”—he scrubs a hand over his jaw, wincing at the memory—“rough before. That won’t happen again.”

“I trust you.” I really do.

“If you change your mind, just say tinsel or something. Okay? Something weird and not what you’d normally say while you’re coming.”

“I’m feeling pretty festive. I might start screaming out holiday jargon when I come. You don’t know.” I swallow hard with the first slip of scratchy plastic garland across my thigh, encircling my shaky muscle.

“You won’t,” he rasps. “You won't say anything but my name.”

Nervous energy buzzes through me, and his focus zeroes in on the delicate twisting, knotting, and looping of tinsel—probably harder to make knots with than rope. The feathered ends tickle my bare skin in a way that elevates every graze of his fingertips. In a matter of seconds, he pulls my wrist tight against my thigh, and I involuntarily suck a sharp inhale through my teeth.

“Too tight?” He stops moving, eyes leaving the knotted garland for the first time since he started this process.

“Um… no.” I wave my hand to show there’s no pinching where it’s held tight just above my knee. I don’t have much wiggle room, but knowing I’m unable to pull free has my chest heaving. The tendons in my groin pull taut, creating extra heat and a stretching sensation that hurts so good. “I’m good. So good. ”

“I already know this is going to be the best fucking thing I’ve ever done.” He plucks the second strand from his neck and begins the same process on my left side.

When he sits back to admire his work—take in the way I’m spread before him like a fucking Christmas dinner—his Adam’s apple bobs heavily in his throat, and he lets out a drawn-out exhale.

“Holy shit, Eira. Holy fucking shit.” His touch grazes my inner thigh, and I jostle in place at the already heightened sensation. Lucas tucks his thumbs into the waist of his boxer briefs, sliding them down without taking his eyes off me. “You feel good about this still? Tinsel, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” I lick my lips. Never mind my own pleasure, there’s something about the carnal look in his eye and the twitching of his fully erect cock. I’m having this effect on him. This insanely gorgeous, funny, god of a man is close to becoming feral, unravelling entirely, at the mere sight of my naked body.

That feels fucking good.

A moan barrels from my chest when his tongue makes direct contact with my clit. My back arches, thighs immediately moving to grip his skull.

His massive palms spread my legs wide once again. “Be a good girl and keep these open so I can eat.”

Whether it’s my hands or my thighs that seem to move by their own free will, it’s hard to say, but as soon as he has me cresting that peak again, my thighs squeeze together in a last-ditch effort for friction. He swats at my skin, the rap of his knuckles stinging my inner thigh.

“As badly as I want to die between your legs—that can’t happen tonight. I’m gonna have to do something about this.” He bites my fleshy thigh. “Maybe I should tie them up some more?”

His eyes wander the room, falling on his discarded pants, and in a flash he’s ripping the belt away. It snaps in his hands, and he waits for my nod of approval before gliding the smooth leather around my ankle. In a sharp jolt, my leg careens toward the Christmas tree.

“Are you tying me to the tree?”

“Better stay still, baby, or this whole thing is toppling down on us.” He smirks, fastening the belt buckle around the tree’s base. “Can you keep this leg under control, or am I going to have to start moving furniture around to find an anchor for it?”

“I got it.” I think.

Not trusting me, the weight of his forearm falls to my thigh, pressing the tinsel into my skin—forcing me to do nothing but sit back and accept pleasure.

Pleasure it certainly is. His tongue starts slow, building in both tempo and pressure, until my breathing happens in short bursts and my back curves against the blanket. Like sinking into a hot bath after a long day, I melt into the orgasm. The binding hugs my flesh, providing just enough support to allow my muscles to relax deeper into the forced stretch.

His tongue continues circling my clit like he’s signing his name over and over. Honestly, he may as well be. He already owns me.

“You’re doing so well, pretty girl.” His lips press to the quaking muscle in my thigh then the sharp points of teeth drag over it, and he laughs under his breath at my gasp. “I love finding new trigger points for you.”

“What?” I whimper.

“The different things I can do to get a reaction. Like for instance, you moan when I do this.” Two fingers disappear deep inside my vagina and, what do you know, a moan claws its way up my throat.

He pulls back out as quickly as he filled me, and sucks my wetness from his middle finger.

“And I fucking love the noise you make when I do this,” he says before leaning in to give my clit a barely there flick with his tongue. Whatever noise comes out of me cannot be described.

And yet again, there’s a new whimpering sound when he presses something to my asshole, teasing the opening gently, with a grin sweeping his face. “That’s a really fun one. If we had more time, I’d love to see what you’d do with my cock filling this tight hole.”

He presses the head against it, letting the slight twitch of his erection rub against my puckered skin until I’m squirming. Not that I’ve ever trusted a man enough to tie me up before, but if I had, I’m not sure I’d trust anyone else to toe the line of rubbing his cock over my asshole without trying to slide it in when I’m compromised.

Instead he shifts gears, rocking his hips to glide his shaft between my pussy lips, coating himself in my cum. He groans at the sensation, grabbing hold of my hand as he does it again.

“I like hearing your reactions, too.” I squeeze his fingers. “Like the noise you made when I sucked your cock into my mouth.”

I might’ve said too much.

“You liked that?” He moves to straddle my chest, hard cock bobbing in front of my lips, which I suddenly realize are sore and swollen from rubbing against my teeth the entire time he devoured me.

“Open up, baby.” The smooth, ruddy head parts my lips, and he feeds me inch after inch, until I’m practically choking on him. Part of me considers tapping out as drool seeps from the corners of my mouth. Until he thrusts forward with that fucking sob I love, and I want to make this so good for him.

With slow, deep rolls of his hips, he fucks my mouth, holding one hand in my hair to keep me still. Unable to do anything about the desperate need for friction between my legs, I groan with frustration, shifting my hips and hoping for anything to make contact with my clit.

Clearly sensing my need, his free hand reaches behind him to resolve the twinge between my legs. Only he doesn’t. He slips around my damp skin, touching everything except where I need.

“You’re loving letting me have my way with you, aren’t you?”

I mumble the best uh-huh I can muster with his large shaft taking up every inch of available real estate in my mouth and throat.

“And you want to come again, don’t you?”

The pleading look in my eyes must not be pathetic enough, because Lucas withdraws all but the tip before gliding back in with a grunt.

My irritated exhales around his cock become frantic whimpers when he finally— fucking finally —works his fingertips over me.

He stutters a breath, increasing the pressure of his touch. A tingle starts up my thighs. I’m going to come again. Soon.

While my first bound orgasm was relaxing and slow, this one’s animalistic. I’m sucking and gulping around him, fighting like hell to break free of the knots dug into my skin. All I want is to throw him off me, climb on top, and ride him until he feels a tiny fraction of the desperation crawling under my skin.

“ That is my favourite sound—you coming with my cock stuffed in your mouth.” In a slow drag, he pulls out of my mouth and shifts off my chest, leaning in to kiss me deeply. My cheeks are sore, lips feel bruised, and I bat my eyelashes at him.

“Are you going to fuck me now?”

“Oh, honey. You said we can’t talk about anything important until 11:59. So I’m going to tease you for the next…forty-eight minutes, give or take a couple minutes, and then I’ll fuck you.” He hooks a finger under the tinsel garland, tugging it teasingly. “That should give us just enough time to cut these off, soak your sore body in the bath, and carry you to bed for our chat.”

I let out a long sigh. He really is perfect, and I don’t think he realizes it. “That sounds like a dream.”

“I’m going to take such good care of you tonight. Merry Christmas, baby.”