Let It Snow... by Jennifer LaBrecque, Leslie Kelly Page B

sheets.
    “You arranged all this?”
    “Of course,” he said, as he lowered her onto the bed and followed her down.
    “Thank you,” she whispered, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a sultry kiss.
    Their tongues thrust lazily and the kiss went on and on. They shared each breath, and their bodies melted together, angles welcoming curves. Philip never moved his mouth from hers as he began to touch her, stroking her arms, her neck, her throat, her hair. When his fingertips brushed the top curves of her breasts, she arched toward him, ready for him to intensify his caresses.
    Instead of ending the kiss so she could unzip her dress and pull it down, he kept his mouth on hers and slid his hand farther, past her stomach, her hip, her thighs. Until he reached the hem and began to tug it up.
    She quivered, anticipation making her hold her breath as his fingers worked her nerve endings. Her legs were shaking before he was anywhere near their apex, and when he finally did reach the curls covering her sex, she cried out against his mouth.
    “Do you know how much I loved tasting this?” he asked, finally pulling away to kiss her jaw, her neck, her ear.
    “As much as I loved tasting you?”
    “More,” he insisted, finally reaching around to unfasten her dress. She sat up a little, helping him, watching his eyes grow nearly black as he uncovered her body. The dress had a built-in bra, since it was so low-cut in the back, and when he realized she wasn’t wearing a stitch underneath, he growled in approval.
    “I want to feel you pressed against me,” she said, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “Every inch of you.”
    He got up from off the bed, his eyes never leaving her face as he stripped out of his clothes. Claire lay there watching him drop the jacket, the tie, the shirt. When he reached for his trousers she nibbled her lip, eager to see him naked.
    Of course, she wasn’t totally naked herself; she was still wearing a pair of black, spike-heeled shoes. When she reached down to unbuckle them, he shook his head slowly, suggestively.
    She left them on.
    “I’ve never seen a more perfectly built man,” she admitted, her eyes devouring him as he unbuttoned his fly. He was gorgeous, all broad and lean and sculpted.
    The trousers fell, as did his boxer briefs, and she swallowed hard. Seeing that huge erection reminded her of how he’d tasted, how just the thick tip of it had filled her mouth.
    She didn’t have any worries about taking him into her body now—first, because she wanted him desperately and was more wet and aroused than she’d ever been in her life. Second, because she knew that, no matter what, he would take care of her.
    As if reading her mind, he reached for her and cupped her cheek. “I’ll never hurt you.”
    She extended her arms, pulling him down to her. “I know.”
    They began kissing again, and this time, with the press of their naked bodies—her bare leg slipping between his, her breasts crushed against his chest—she groaned at the rightness of it.
    “Please, Philip,” she whispered as he kissed his way down her neck, “don’t make me wait. I’ve been waiting long enough.”
    He knew what she meant, and reached for his pants. “I packed us a small bag,” he admitted. “The rest of the condoms are in it. But in case we didn’t make it here, I tucked one in my pocket.”
    “Smart boy,” she said, laughing softly.
    She watched greedily as he tore open the packet and slipped the condom over his rigid cock, noting that his hands shook the tiniest bit, as if he was just as affected by the importance of this moment as she was.
    It was important. Vitally so. Because for the first time in her life, she was about to make love with a man she loved.
    She’d never been in love before, never experienced anything like this, but Claire had no doubt that’s what she felt for Philip.
    “Now, please,” she begged, spreading her legs, arching up to welcome him.
    He settled