* * *
Whatever protest Alexandra had been about to utter died in her throat. Instinctively, she lifted her legs about his torso, pulling her dress to her hips, eager for everything she knew her husband would give her. Her gaze flicked down, then up to meet Ben’s eager green eyes, and she said with an academic tone, “Pollination is so critical for the health of a species.”
“Indeed,” he said, and then, “Dear, God,” as she turned the tables on him, reaching down to cup the hardening lump in his breeches.
“One must employ every means to assure reproduction.”
“Christ!” he exclaimed, his head falling backward as she quickly unbuttoned his trousers, then pushed them down, and once again, he groaned deep in his throat, the sound feral and famished, as her hands found and closed about his manhood.
And still she didn’t stop. “You wouldn’t wish to be solely responsible for the extinction of a species?”
“Never” he said, swallowing, cupping her bottom and jerking her forward to the edge of the table, where he covered her mouth with his lips, kissing her hungrily.
Alexandra melted into his embrace, all coyness dismissed at the feel of his manhood begging entrance against her mons. Slick and insistent, he pushed himself inside.
And then, all words were lost as butterflies flittered about, a kaleidoscope of colors ebbing and flowing as man and wife danced a mating dance as old as time. Clinging to each other, kissing, feeling, undulating, culmination came swiftly and violently, wracking each of their bodies with delicious spasms that left them both reeling. And once they were done, and her husband’s cock lay pulsing inside her—beating in time with the click of his heart, she whispered, “Merry Christmas, my love.”
It was a long, long moment before Ben could speak again, but when he could, he could only say, with an emotional rasp at the back of his throat, “Fa la la la la la la.”
BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT
MORE IN THIS SERIES
Seduced by a Prince
A Crown for a Lady
The Art of Kissing Beneath the Mistletoe