Maybe not for tomorrow, but for tonight she picks me and damn, how I long to show her that I pick her. I draw her against me, our hot drinks set aside, and I run my hands through her honey blonde hair, the long hair I've been eyeing since the first moment I saw her. Now in the low light of the cabin, with the fire in front of us, it practically glows. Sugar is a vision and somehow, she is here with me. My cock aches at the knowledge that I'm finally going to get the one thing I've always wanted: the woman of my goddamn dreams.
“Are you okay?” I ask, she nods, nervously biting her bottom lip. There’s a hint of a smile pushing through though and it eases my worry that she might have doubts.
“When you run your hands through my hair, it makes me feel so beautiful,” she whispers.
“Good,” I tell her, loving her honesty. “Because it makes me feel like a king.”
Her eyelashes flutter and she looks up at me coyly, as if she’s both nervous and ready. “Do you mind if I…” She licks those pretty pink lips of hers and then begins to run her fingers through my beard. “I’ve been aching to do that since the moment you walked into the bar.”
“You're saying you saw me before I saw you?” I ask her.
She smiles. “I was reading a book in the corner. You wouldn't have seen me. I was pretty engrossed in my novel.”
“Not too engrossed to run your eyes over my beard?”
She giggles, and God, the sound is sweet. “Yeah, you're my type.”
“I like the sound of that.” I look at her feeling so lucky. “You’ve really never been with a man, Sugarplum?”
She shakes her head. “Not even once.”
“I don't understand how any man could keep their hands off of you,” I say running my own hands down her back, desperate to see her in nothing but a pair of panties and later, not even those.
“I’ve always been a little shy, I guess.”
“You seem like you can hold your own though,” I pushed back, remembering her at the poker game.
“Fair enough,” she says. “But confidence with words and confidence with my body are two different things.”
“You're not confident with your body? I ask. “God, how's that possible?” I ask with a chuckle. “You're fucking…” I shake my head. There are no words to describe how hot she is. Sitting here in those tight little leggings, this snug sweater. Damn. She looks smoking.
“Well, I could say the same about you, Smith,” she says, her hands running over my chest as she begins to unbutton my flannel shirt one button at a time. Her nails are red and green, and they catch my eye.
“You like Christmas, huh?”
She nods. “I’ve always loved the idea of it. I can't say I've had very many memorable ones, but the idea of stockings hung on a mantel, a Christmas tree in the corner, hot cocoa.” She laughs. “I mean, I gotta be honest with you, you’re kind of nailing it.”
“Good. I like the thought of nailing things tonight.” We both laugh, and her hands run over my bare chest. “I’ve always had a sweet spot for this holiday. When my mom and dad were alive, they always made it the best day of the year.”
“They're gone now?” she asks softly.
“Yeah. Passed away five years ago. “
“I’m sorry,” she says her voice soft and shaky. I know she means it. Her words practically crack.
“I’m guessing you've had your fair share of loss too, haven't you, Sugarplum?” I ask her.
The wounded look in her eyes is back, and I’d do anything to take her pain away tonight. Maybe I can make her forget all those years when she felt alone. When she felt like no one was looking out for her. I'll show her that I can be her North star, the man she can count on.
“I’m having a hard time sitting here and not devouring you,” I admit to her, my cock aching in my jeans. She pushes off my flannel, my chest bared to her and God, I want her shirt off too.
“Do what you like to me,” she says. “Because I want all of you, Smith. I like the idea of a man like you touching me, making me feel alive and beautiful. As if I'm yours, even if for just one night.”
“You know I want more than one night,” I tell her, and she closes her eyes, shaking her head, unable to believe words like that, and I know it's because she has no reason to trust a man. To trust me. But what she's going to learn here real damn quick, is that I don't mess around.
I say what I mean, and I do what I want and God, I want to do her now. “I’m going to need you in my bed, Sugarplum,” I tell her. “I don't want my Christmas present from under the Christmas tree. I want it on my mattress. I want to unwrap you piece by piece until you're naked in my arms. I want to kiss every inch of your skin until you're begging for more.”
“For a man who's never been laid, you sure have a way with words,” she teases as I take her hand and lead her to my bedroom.
“Baby, I've been practicing for this moment for twenty-seven years.”
She turns around, giving me a smile. “You're crazy, Smith.”
“Sounds about right, because your body is driving me fucking insane right now.”
She looks over her shoulder, a few steps ahead of me. “Yeah?”
My eyes are on her ass when she walks in front of me, my hands ready to squeeze those cheeks together, to run my mouth up and down her ass, up her back, to her neck, and finally, her lips. “I need to make you mine.”
“Prove it,” she whispers and so I do. I drop to my goddamn knees and spin that girl around, teasing down her leggings past her hips and her creamy thighs. They’re so sweet and I run my hands over them. My mouth kisses her belly. I kiss her pussy and she runs her hands through my hair. I can smell her sweet pussy scent and it’s like a siren call, calling for me. She's wet, so damn wet for me, and I groan in need.
“I need to taste you, girl,” I tell her. She whimpers above me.
“Then taste me,” she says. “Taste all of me.”
I ease her back on my bed and kneel on the floor before her. I pull down her panties and spread her knees. Her scent my goddamn downfall. I press my mouth to the place it belongs, to her pink pussy, her virgin hole ― the one that she's offered me. She tastes like honey. Like the color of her hair. I run my fingers over her pretty little cunt, needing her to open up so I can taste all of her.
My mouth presses hard against her pretty pussy, sucking her off the way she needs, my cock throbs in my pants and I know there will be a time for her to touch me too. But now I'm giving my Sugarplum the treat she's been waiting so damn long for.
I lick her up and down and her back arches, her whimpers growing deeper, louder, less controlled and I can't help but smile. I sop up everything her juicy cunt offers. I spread her pussy lips and dip in a finger, then another. She's so damn tight. I know it's going to be a hard-ass job to sink my cock in there. I don't want to hurt her. It's the last goddamn thing I want to do.
So, I take it slow. I'll move nice and easy. I lick her, letting every flick of my tongue bring her closer to the edge. My thumb is on her clit and I tease her until she's laughing, and until she's reaching out her hands and threading her fingers through my hair and she's saying my name. Louder. Louder. Smith. Smith. Yes.