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A Festive Feud: A Holiday Romantic Comedy(9)

Author:Maren Moore

Her tongue drags along my lower lip before she captures it between her teeth and tugs at the same time her fingers snake beneath the fabric of my shirt, brushing along the planes of my stomach. The muscles contract beneath her touch, and I’m two seconds from tearing what I’m sure is something ridiculously expensive off her body and fucking her right here on this floor.

When my fingers brush along the lacy strap of her bra, she pulls back and stares at me through heavy-lidded, desire-filled eyes framed by thick, dark lashes.

Staring at each other, panting hard, I can practically see the thoughts running through her mind.

“Shit. What are we doing? We shouldn’t be doing this.” She tries to crawl off my lap, but I palm her ass, rocking into her slightly, and her head drops back with a moan, her fingers clawing into my stomach. Leaning forward, I capture her lips again, delving into her mouth and showing her exactly why we should be doing this.

Fuck the feud, fuck the fact that we’re supposed to hate each other, fuck everything that isn’t right here, right now. I’ve always been attracted to her, even if she drives me insane like no other, but being forced together these last two days has made me want her that much more. This is not something that’s going to go away, so fuck it.

We’ll worry about the aftermath later.

Tearing my lips from hers, I trail them lower along her jaw to her neck, where I suck at the sensitive spot below her ear. “This is exactly why we should, Snowflake.”

She moans when I drag my teeth along her skin, nipping while she squirms.

“B-but we hate each other,” she pants, threading her hands in my hair again and tugging. Hard.

Fuck yes, I knew there was more to this girl, hiding under her holier-than-thou attitude.

“Never said I hated you. In fact…” I slide my hands under her sweater, dragging my palms along her stomach as I inch the soft fabric up, higher and higher, exposing the light pink lace of her bra and the swell of her tits. There’s a tiny gold heart dangling from the center clasp of the bra. “I happen to fucking love these.”

I cup them in my palms, squeezing and pushing them together as my thumb brushes along the hard pebble of her nipple.

“We… shouldn’t.” She can barely get the words out over her pants as I drag my tongue along the edge of the lace. “We…” Even as she’s protesting, she’s grinding on my cock.

Pulling back, I gaze at her. “How about we worry about what we shouldn’t be doing later? Clearly, we’re attracted to each other, and this feels good. We’re adults, Emma.”

Her breath hitches when I use her name instead of the many nicknames I use just to annoy her.

“One night. That’s all I want.”

She blinks back at me, hesitation flickering in her gaze, but ultimately nods. “One night. And we never speak of it again. We pretend it never happened.”

It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself, but I just shrug, my lip quirking up. “Sure, Snowflake. We can go back to pretending we hate each other… tomorrow.”

Nodding again, she sits back slightly, pulling down her sweater, but I reach up to stop her.

“Don’t hide from me.” Leaning forward, I close my lips around the tight peak hidden beneath pale pink lace. The color complements her pale, creamy skin, and it makes me want to leave marks all over her, claiming her. A little reminder that after tonight, no one will be able to make her feel the way I did, even if she wants to go back to pretending once tonight is over.

“Don’t boss me ar—” I slam my lips on hers, silencing her, our tongues thrashing together in a punishing kiss, one that erases all the sass from her bratty little mouth.

Fuck, I want to spank it right out of her, leave marks on her delectable ass. My hands travel down to squeeze it as I lift us from the floor easily and walk over to the plush rug in front of the crackling fire. Close enough to feel the heat but far enough back that it’s not uncomfortable.

Her blonde hair is spread out beneath her, her lips red and swollen from our kisses, and her cheeks flushed a delicious pink.

She looks fucking beautiful.

I don’t give her a second to overthink or to question. I simply part her thighs and plant myself between them, yanking at her sweater until it’s over her head and tossed to the side.

Leaning forward, I press my lips softly against the curve of her cleavage while her fingers lace into the hair at my nape, pushing me against her chest as a needy sound escapes her lips.

A sound that I’ve committed to memory and plan to hear over and over again tonight.

My fingers dip beneath the lace cups, pulling one down to reveal a rosy pink nipple that is only a shade darker than her lips. I bring my lips to it, dragging my teeth along the peak before sucking it into my mouth and then letting go with a pop.

“Jackson…” she pants, pulling my head back when I lift up, my eyes roaming her chest. “Please.”

Never in my life did I think I’d have Emma Worthington begging me for anything, let alone beneath me.

I slide my hand beneath her and unclasp her bra, the straps falling loosely down her arms as I pull it off, leaving her naked from the waist up.

For a second, I’m frozen at the sight.

Her spread out in front of me, blonde hair fanned out around her like a halo glowing from the flames of the fire, pale pink nipples hardened into tight little peaks that are begging to be sucked and bitten. She’s aching for my cock. For my tongue on her.

There are only a few things in life that I believe would truly bring me to my knees, and I know without a doubt that this is one of them.

Emma Worthington is one of them.

Her hands reach for me, hurrying me along, and I shake my head. “If I’ve only got one night with you, Emma, I’m taking every fucking second of it,” I say, tracing my tongue along her nipple. “Don’t rush me. Let me look at you.” My voice is hoarse with need, and I don’t miss the way she squirms beneath me when I speak.

My tongue dips to the hollow of her chest between her tits, trailing lower and lower in a path to her navel, where I dip it inside before tracing the skin above her waistband.

I quickly pop the button of her pants free, and when she shimmies them down her hips, I toss them to the side, leaving her in nothing but pale pink lace with a damp spot on the front.

Fuck, I want to taste her. I want her to soak my face until I’m drenched in her.

My tongue sweeps across the lace, and she gasps as I tear it from her body in a single rough pull.

“Jackson!” she mumbles in a breathless protest. “Those were expensive.”

“Don’t care. Take my card and buy a thousand fucking pairs,” I grunt in response, my eyes flicking to her bare pussy just inches from my face. She’s soaked, and I can fucking smell her arousal.

In the dim light of the fire, she’s glistening as I use my fingers to spread her open wide, my eyes raking over her perfect pussy.

“Goddamn,” I mutter, unable to stop myself from flattening my tongue and dragging it through her wetness. I reach down, palming my cock, which is now impossibly fucking hard and seeping just from the taste of her.

Her hands fly to my hair, tugging at the strands as a soft cry tumbles from her lips.

She tastes so sweet I want to stay here for the rest of the night, licking her clit, fucking her with my tongue until she’s sated and exhausted from all of the times she comes. But with only one night, I have to use my time wisely.

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