Drake Sisters 02 - The Twilight Before Christmas

with his slow, deep strokes.

Chapter
11
    In the stocking hung with gentle care,
    A mystery, I know, is hidden there.
    MATT WOKE ALREADY AROUSED. HE WAS thick and aching, so tight he thought he’d burst through his own skin. The blankets had fal en onto the floor as if he had spent a long, restless night. His body was stark naked and mercilessly aroused. He looked down at Kate. She smiled up at him, her sea-green eyes sultry, her hands moving gently over his flat stomach. Her long hair spil ed over his hips and thighs, teasing every nerve ending. He knotted a long strand around his fist. “I dreamed of you, Kate.”
    Her smile was that of a temptress. “I hope it was a good dream.” She bent her head to her task, lovingly stroking her tongue over the thick inviting length of him, sliding the velvet knob into the heated tightness of her mouth.
    Matt gasped as the pleasure/pain of it rocked him. “How could it not be?” he asked when he got his breath back. Her tongue made a teasing foray along the rigid length and stroked over him before she once again slid her mouth around him.
    He closed his eyes, his hips surging forward, wanting more, needing more, as waves of heat spread through his body, as every muscle clenched and tightened. Kate’s fist wrapped him up while her mouth performed miracles. “I don’t know if I’l survive this, Kate.”
    Her answer was muffled, her breath warm and enticing, her mouth hot and tight. He was certain he felt her laughter vibrate through his entire body.
    There was joy in Kate. That was her secret, he decided. Joy in everything she did with him. She didn’t pretend not to enjoy his body, she reveled in exploring him, teasing him, driving him to the very edge of his control.
    Kate kissed her way up his bel y and over his chest. She mounted him, the way an accomplished horseback rider smoothly slides aboard a horse, settling her body over his with exquisite slowness. She put up her hands and he took them so she could use leverage as her body rose and fel , stroking his. Her hair spil ed around her, adding to her al ure as her ful breasts bounced and beckoned with every movement. She threw her head back, arched back, moving differently, tightening muscles until he was certain he would explode.
    “Kate.” Her name was a husky, almost hoarse sound, escaping from his constricted throat. His lungs burned. A fire spread through his bel y, centered in his groin, and gathered into a wild conflagration. He couldn’t take his gaze from her. There was a sheen to her skin, a flush over her body. She moved with a woman’s sensuous grace and mystery. “The feel of your hair on my legs and bel y makes me crazy.” It should have tickled his skin, but the silky fal brushed over sensitive nerve endings and added to the heat and fire building in the deep within him. He felt as if every part of his body was being pul ed in that direction.
    Kate moved with exquisite slowness, undulating her body, sending him right out of his mind. The erotic visual only increased his raging hunger for her. In the soft morning sunlight, her hair flashed red streaks, and her pale skin seemed made of dewy petals. Most of al , the expression on her face, deeply absorbed in the ride of lust and love and passion, shook his entire being. He could read the way her body began to build pressure, her muscles clenching tightly, gripping him strongly. He could see it on her face, the rapture, the passion, the intensity of the orgasm as it overtook her. He watched her ride it out, watched the excitement and pleasure on her face, in her body. Seeing her like that heightened his own pleasure, and he wanted more, wanted her flushed body to feel it again and again and bring his body to his own explosive orgasm.
    He caught her hips in his hands, taking control, guiding her ride, thrusting upward hard as she slid down over him, encasing him in a fist of hot velvet. He shuddered with pleasure, feeling the pressure building relentlessly. He could feel her body preparing for a second shock, the muscles tightening around him, adding to the intensity of his explosion. It shook him, a volcano going off, detonating from the inside out, taking everything in its path. He caught her to him, fighting for air, fighting to regain some sense of where he was, of a time and place, not fantasyland, where his every dream came true. It seemed impossible to be lying on his living room floor, his heart raging at him, his body in ecstasy, and the