Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance) - Page 60

“Then I guess that is a yes.” I took his hand.

We rose and headed to the dance floor.

A slow jazz song spun around us like a golden thread being pulled through the eye of a needle. The notes seemed to glitter in the light. Violin and piano. Flute and the steady beat of a drum. We danced within the magic of the moment. And all my fears came undone.

I looked up into that loving gaze and enjoyed the tender pressure of his hand on my back. His warmth surrounded me. I knew I was safe from it all—pain, heartbreak, and abandonment.

God, I’m changed. I’m different.

Saint took control as I knew he would, doing a skillful job and twirling me along the floor in perfect rhythm to the beat. We made delicate circles around others.

And when a new song played, slow and romantic, he gathered me in those huge arms and held me close. I rested my head on his chest, and we swayed together.

I didn’t know how long we danced. I just remembered never wanting to stop.

And then the music ended and Holly proclaimed that they would be cutting the wedding cake. I left Saint's arms and turned that way.

The wedding cake was decorated in the hues of soft summer roses, everything from champagne to dusky red. Rather than being one cake, it was assembled from many tiny ones that rose in columns with buttercream between. And amid the rose-hued cakes were real, fresh roses.

Everyone gathered around the happy couple as they began cutting the cake.

Just as I was about to head that way, Saint took my hand and guided us in the other direction.

I giggled and kept my voice low. “Where are we going?”

“I’ve waited long enough.”

“And what about Holly and—”

“They’ll be fine. We’ve done our duties.”

Hand in hand, we rushed away. Excitement flowed throughout my body. This would not only be a new adventure for my best friend as she began her marriage, but I would finally step into love, doing my best to not drown in fear.Chapter 18

Christmas EveWe made it to his villa in minutes. His was similar to mine with the exception of the fireplace across the room from the bed.

Saint had me out of my gown in seconds. As he devoured my lips, I yanked off his jacket, rushed through those buttons, and snatched the shirt off. We were frantic with our caresses. Licking and sucking on whatever came close to our mouths. I couldn’t get enough of him, and neither he of me.

He struggled with my bra. Once he wrenched it off, his mouth was back on mine. Our lips grew greedy, devouring each other.

Right as I was going to take off my panties. He shoved my hands away, picked me up, and carried me over to the couch. Stunned, I started to speak, but he captured my mouth.

A groan left me.

My lips trembled as he angled his head, and those sensual lips devoured mine again, eliciting sweet sensations that rushed through my veins. He trailed more soft, hot kisses down my neck. I went wet with arousal.

He rose and pierced me with a lusty gaze. “Finally you’re mine.”

Breathless, I gaped at him.

“But all those years of waiting will be worth it.” He undid his belt and opened his pants. “Every month, week, day, and night, I obsessed over you. When I worked, your face hit my mind. When I sat on my couch at home, watching tv, you were on the screen, not the show or movie I should have been focused on. When I was asleep, I dreamed of you.”

My chest rose and fell.

“Do I sound like a mad man, Ivy?”

I whispered, “No.”

“It doesn’t matter if you think so or not.” He pulled his cock out. “You’re mine now. And there will be no turning around after this.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “Is that right?”

He leaned down and touched my lips with his fingers. Slowly, he trailed a line along my bottom lip. “That’s right.”

I opened my mouth and sucked in the tip.

He groaned and pulled his finger away.

I was about to protest until he swept his fingertips over my nipples. Instantly, they stiffened to aching points. His hands were tender, yet possessive. Gentle, but bewitching my senses at the same time.

A cry of hunger ripped from my throat.

Again, he captured my mouth. Consuming me. Feeding my desire, but never satiating it. It just made me hungrier. Needier. And the whole time, he toyed with my nipples. Playing me. Teaching me about my own body. Showing me how lonely I’d really been all this time. My skin burned deliciously from his touch.

With an urgency I’d never known, I hurried with taking off my panties. I craved his cock inside of me. And there it was, bobbing, thick, and hard against my stomach, teasing me. Telling me that it was coming soon, but not just yet.

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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