Chapter 2

two

?. . .?

Ryan

She's a goddess. An angel of light and warmth, with curves that could bring a man to his knees. And fuck, do I want to fall at her feet and worship her. The way Anastasia moves, the gentle sway of her hips, the bounce of her perfect tits, it's driving me wild. I ache to strip off this ridiculous Santa costume and show her what a real man feels like.

I've known her all of five minutes but already, I'm lost. Ensnared by her goodness, her giving spirit. It radiates from her like the glow radiates from her like the glow of a crackling fire, inviting me closer, tempting me to bask in her light. But I can't let her see the darkness in me. Not yet.

I'm a selfish bastard for even thinking I could have her. That I could taint her sweetness with my jaded soul. But God, I want to. I want to paint her body with my kisses, unravel her with my touch until she's shaking and desperate, begging for release. I want to hear my name fall from her lush lips as I make her come undone.

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to focus on hanging the damn garlands, and not on the tantalizing hints of cleavage peeking from her sweater. It's going to be a long fucking night.

"Oh!" Her soft gasp snaps my head toward her. She's reaching for the top of the tree, stretching onto her tip toes, an ornament in hand. Her sweater rides up, revealing a strip of creamy skin.

I'm behind her before I can blink, crowding her space, breathing in her scent of cinnamon and woman. "Let me," I rumble. Plucking the ornament from her fingers, I lean over her to place it on the highest bough, my chest grazing her back.

She sucks in a breath and I suppress a groan. I wonder if her pussy is already wet for me. If she's imagining me bending her over the table and taking her hard and deep.

"Thank you," she whispers, trapped between me and the tree. I should move. I need to move. But I can't. Not when she feels so fucking right in my arms.

Slowly, I settle my hands on her hips, thumbs stroking her softness. Her head falls back on my shoulder, a breathy moan escaping her.

"Anastasia." My lips skim the shell of her ear as I squeeze her hips, pulling her lush ass flush against my straining erection. "Tell me to stop."

She just whimpers, her hips rocking subtly against my hardness.

Fuck. Yes. I slip my hands beneath her sweater to caress the warm, satiny skin of her stomach. She trembles as I inch higher, grazing the lace edge of her bra. I cup her perfect tits, heavy and full in my palms as my fingers tease her nipples through the delicate fabric. They bead against my touch, straining for more.

I nuzzle into her neck, my lips searching for her racing pulse. She gasps as I find it, sucking hard, branding her with my desire. Mine . A primal need to claim her seizes me and I spin her to face me, my mouth crashing down on hers in a brutal, devouring kiss.

She meets me with matched fever, her sweet tongue tangling with mine as I plunder her mouth. She tastes like heaven and sin, and I drink her down like a man possessed. Desperate for more, I walk her backwards until her ass hits the edge of the table. With a swipe of my arm, I send the decorations scattering to the floor.

"Ryan," she pants against my lips, her voice husky with need. "What are we doing?"

"What we both want," I growl. I cup her face, forcing her eyes to mine. They blaze with untamed hunger, bright green flames licking at my control. "Tell me you don't feel this. This fucking heat between us."

She swallows hard, her tongue darting out to wet her kiss-swollen lips. "I...I feel it."

That's all I need to hear. I attack her mouth again, my hands roaming greedily over her lush curves as I grind against her, letting her feel exactly what she does to me. My cock is painfully hard, throbbing with the primal urge to bury myself inside her sweet cunt.

She whimpers into the kiss, her fingers clutching at the velvet lapels of my Santa jacket. I shrug out of the coat, letting it drop to the floor along with my hat. Then I'm back on her, my hands slipping beneath her sweater, skimming over her silky skin. She arches into my touch, chasing more.

"Fuck, Anastasia," I groan against the slender column of her throat. "Wanted my hands on you all damn day. Ever since I first laid eyes on you. What is it about you, gorgeous, huh? Wanted to tear that sweater off and worship these gorgeous tits."

She grinds her pelvis against my straining erection with unpracticed jerky movements.

But then another box behind us crashes to the floor, shattering the heated moment between us.

Anastasia jumps back and blinks up at me, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, chest heaving with each ragged breath.

"I...I'm sorry," she stammers, backing away and hurriedly straightening her rumpled sweater. "We shouldn't...I mean, I don't usually..."

Fuck . I scrub a hand over my face, trying to reign in my raging desire. The last thing I want is to scare her off by coming on too strong.

"No, I'm sorry," I rasp, my voice rough with need. "I got carried away. You just feel so damn good in my arms."

A pretty blush stains her cheeks and she ducks her head shyly. "I'm not...I mean, I don't have a lot of experience with..." She takes a breath. "With this," she finishes, gesturing between us.

My heart clenches. She's so fucking sweet and pure. And here I am, ready to despoil her over the goddamn Christmas tree.

I step closer, tipping her chin up to meet my gaze. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for, Anastasia. I would never push you." I brush my thumb over her plump bottom lip. "I just want to make you feel good. Worship this gorgeous body of yours the way it deserves."

Her green eyes darken with need, tongue darting out to wet her lips. "I'm just nervous. I've never felt like this before."

Comprehension finally dawns on me. “Anastasia, are you a virgin?”

Her cheeks flush and she bites her lip as she nods.

Fucking hell, there is a god.

I fell all the blood in my body rush south as I grip my cock painfully to keep from ejaculating all over myself at just the thought of being the first—no, the only one—to ever have this curvy beauty.

She’s mine now. Plain and simple.

"Let me take care of you," I murmur, pulling her back into my arms. "Let me show you how good it can be. We'll go slow. And the second you want to stop, we stop. Okay?"

She nods against my chest and I feel her melt into me, surrendering to the desire sparking between us. Slowly, reverently, I slip my hands under her sweater again, savoring the feel of her silky skin. She shivers and arches into my touch, a breathy little moan spilling from her lips.

"That's it, baby," I encourage, my fingers skimming the lace of her bra. "Just feel."

I trace the scalloped edges, teasing her with barely-there caresses before cupping her perfect tits in my palms. They overflow my hands, soft and full and fucking made for my touch. I squeeze gently, molding her curves as my thumbs graze her nipples. They pucker and strain against the delicate fabric, begging for my attention.

"Ryan," she gasps, my name a plea on her tongue, and holy fuck I’ve never heard anything hotter. My name in her sweet voice…fuck, it’s enough to make me nut right here and now.

"I got you." I nip at her ear. "Need to see you. All of you."

She nods shly, and with a growl of pure male satisfaction, I peel Anastasia's sweater up and over her head, revealing the most magnificent pair of tits I've ever laid eyes on. Full, heavy globes encased in delicate lace, nipples straining against the fabric, just begging for my mouth.

"Fucking perfection," I groan, palming her gorgeous curves reverently. "I could come just from looking at you."

Anastasia whimpers, arching into my touch, and I can't hold back another second. I yank down the cups of her bra, freeing her bountiful tits to my hungry gaze. Dusky pink nipples, puckered and pebbled, crowned by pale, creamy flesh.

"Oh god, Ryan..." She tosses her head back as I lower my mouth to her breasts, sucking one aching peak deep. I lave her with my tongue, teasing the sensitive bud until she's panting and writhing against me.

Her hands scrabble at my shoulders, nails digging deliciously into my skin as I switch to her other nipple, giving it the same devoted attention. I could spend hours just worshipping her tits, losing myself in her supple curves.

"You taste so fucking good," I murmur against her breast. "Sweet ambrosia. I could feast on you forever."

Anastasia mewls, a desperate, needy sound that has my cock jerking in my pants. Fuck, I'm so hard it hurts, my erection throbbing in time with my racing heart. I grind myself against the juncture of her thighs, right against her molten heat, and nearly explode at the damp warmth I find there.

She's wet. Soaked through her panties, all for me. The knowledge makes me dizzy with want.

"Feel that, sweetheart?" I press my rigid length firmer into her softness, groaning at the friction. "Feel how hard you make me? I'm fucking dying for you."

"Oh god...oh Ryan..." Her hips undulate against my cock and it takes every shred of my control not to rip her pants off and plunge into her right there.

My hands migrate from her breasts to her lush ass, palming the ripe globes possessively. I squeeze and knead, pulling her tight against my straining zipper as I grind into her, mimicking the act I'm dying to perform.

"Fuck, that ass," I growl into the fragrant curve of her neck. "Want to mark it, make it mine. Want everyone to know this juicy, perfect ass belongs to me now."

Daringly, I deliver a light smack to one cheek and she yelps, her eyes flying wide with startled pleasure. My mouth goes dry at the glazed, wanton look on her face. She likes that. My innocent angel wants to be claimed, dominated.

And fuck am I the man for the job.