Mistress Christmas Read Online Free

grinding circles on his crotch. Over and over. Swinging her loose hair across his handsome face so strands caught on his razor stubble and tickled his pouty lips. Holly slid her butt cheeks up the inside of his other leg, swishing her hips back and forth. Dropping her arms, she situated her hands on his knees. She peeped over her shoulder, rocking her pelvis until once again her ass was nestled against his groin.
    Nick’s obvious erection sent a gush of moisture to her core, causing her to taunt, “Is that a jumbo candy cane in your pocket or are you happy to see me, Not-So-Saint Nick?”
    A feral snarl rumbled from his mouth and his hands latched onto her hips. “Keep it up and you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
    Holly refused to let his challenge go unmet. “Maybe you’re already getting more than you bargained for.” Once again her arms twisted above her head like a belly dancer. She rotated her shoulders, shimmying and scraping her backside against that rock-hard flesh pressing beneath his jeans. Her heart thudded. Her skin was hot and tingly. Her nipples were hard as gumdrops.
    Nick’s rough thumbs stroked the bared section of her skin peeking above the waistband of her pants. “Jesus, you’re killing me. Harder.” He pressed her bottom more firmly to his crotch.
    A yelp escaped as her spine landed against the solid wall of his chest. He snaked her left arm around the back of his neck and threaded the fingers of his left hand through her right hand. Not an inch of space existed between them.
    Then Nick fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her head to the side so his mouth could attack her throat with demanding kisses.
    “Oh God.” Nothing set her off like lips and teeth and tongue on that sensitive section of her neck. She automatically writhed against him, desperate for more.
    His pelvis was bumping up, as hers ground down, and they moved from side-to-side in perfect synchronization. His hot, wet mouth destroyed any sense of decorum and she moaned with utter abandon.
    Swearing, Nick pushed her away, spun her around, and aligned her body until they were face-to-face. He draped her legs the opposite direction of his on the bench. The friction at this angle was perfect. Pelvis-to-pelvis, her clitoris rubbed the seam on the inside of her pants and the bulge in his jeans. The soft mounds of her breasts were plastered to his hard chest.
    Lift, lower, grind. Lift, lower, grind.
    So close. Dammit. It’d been a year since she’d experienced a climax not brought about by her own hand. She craved that explosion. That mindless throbbing. That ultimate rush of heat.
    “Holly.” Nick groaned her name like a prayer and clamped his hands to her face. He slammed his mouth to hers in a ferocious kiss that stole her breath, her sanity and sent her careening over the edge straight into orgasm.
    She kept moving, dragging out the delicious sensation. Then Nick stiffened below her and she felt a burst of warmth where they were pressed together.
    He rode out his climax. A growl-like hum reverberated in her mouth, as he soul-kissed her so deeply she swore the steady movement of his tongue tickled the soles of her feet. When his thumbs simultaneously stroked the edge of the velvet mask and the curve of her cheek beneath it, she damn near came again at the simple eroticism in his tender touch.
    Nick released her lips, kissing the line of her jaw to her ear. Breathing hard, he murmured, “Now I finally understand the appeal of lap dances.”
    Then it hit her: she’d been dry-humping a complete stranger in public.
    Talk about cheap.
    What you mean cheap? He paid you a hundred bucks for the privilege of getting his rocks off with you.
    Holy crap. Holly scrambled off him like he’d suddenly developed a case of leprosy. She fell on her ass before she leapt to her feet.
    “Holly? What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. Everything. Shit. Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit. Shit . I have to go. Now.” She backed away, trying—and