I nod my understanding while testing the give of the bindings. Examining the bow, I tease, “Aren’t you supposed to unwrap presents this time of year?”
“The twenty-fifth is two days away,” he muses in a heated timbre. “Are you suggesting I should leave you tied up until then?” He touches my face, his thumb gliding across my lips. “I’m more than happy to keep you tucked away with me, especially as you are now.”
Thoughts of me spending two days tied up and naked while Kaleb takes his time devouring me causes my whole body to flush and my skin to tingle. Because it turns out my self-control isn’t that great when it comes to my sexy husbands, I take advantage of the fact my arms are bound in front of me and cop a feel.
“Oh, you’re going with naughty this Christmas,” he says with a chuckle, a wonderfully deep sound like distant thunder that’s quickly followed by a muted groan as he presses himself against my palms.
“How can you expect me to play nice when you’re standing there tempting me?” I reply coyly, rubbing my face low on his belly while considering the logistics of dragging his pants down with my teeth.
“Mmm, I see your point,” he murmurs. He slides his hand from the side of my face and buries it in my loose blonde hair, lifting his shirt a few inches with the other.
As soon as my lips hit skin, I begin running my tongue along the taut flesh positioned seductively between the V of his Adonis belt, my hands awkwardly stroking him through the fabric of his pants. He’s covered in a light sheen of sweat that leaves a salty taste in my mouth, because not only are we hot, but so is the room, the windows collecting beads of condensation on their panes.
Unconsciously, my knees drift open. I’m unbelievably aroused by how I must appear, naked and bound as I service my husband, the uncovered windows making me feel exposed. Kaleb isn’t a man for exhibition, but considering literally no one but the men I married are on this island, I imagine he felt safe leaving the curtains open to enjoy the view while we make love.
Before my mouth can get to the more throbbing bits, he gently tugs a fistful of my hair and murmurs, “That’s enough. Now, I want you on the bed, lying on your belly with your hands above your head.”
“Not nearly enough,” I mutter, giving him a little nip of my teeth before assuming the position. “Have I mentioned lately that you have an obscene amount of self-control?”
“Only with you,” he promises huskily, reaching for a bottle of lotion out of the same drawer as before, and then he straddles my naked thighs. “What turns me on more than anything else is watching you lose yourself in the pleasure I’m giving you. I don’t want to miss a minute of it.”
Damn him sounding all romantic while he has me tied up and pinned to the bed. My answer is an attempt to grind my ass against his groin. He doesn’t really stop me, per se, but he flexes his thighs to inhibit my movement. I can definitely feel his hard-on against me, but I can’t decide if that’s really a win for me in this mock struggle we’re having.
My head faces one of the windows, and in its reflection I witness the seductive sight of Kaleb’s rippling muscles as he pulls off his shirt. He is beautiful, a sculpture of the gods in the flesh, and he is mine. A wave of possessive satisfaction rolls through me that loosens my muscles, and I stretch lazily beneath him, now the picture of a woman ready to be pampered and pleasured by her lover.
Sensing the change, he relaxes his thighs. Squeezing an ample amount of lotion into his hands, he tosses the bottle farther down the bed, rubs his hands together, and then places them at the base of my spine. A moan that has nothing to do with eroticism flows out of me as his strong fingers work their way up my back, relieving tense muscles I didn’t even know I had.
“If I fall asleep, it’s your fault,” I mumble, enjoying the scent of coconut that’s being rubbed into my skin.
“I think I can find ways to keep you awake,” he boasts, sliding his hands around my ribcage to cup my breasts. When he pinches my nipples between his fingers, it’s like a live wire directly connects the tight buds to my pussy, and I groan into the pillow. The smart-ass then asks, “Still sleepy?”
“Wide awake now,” I gasp breathlessly, squirming under the pleasure. “More, please.”
“As you wish, since you asked so nicely,” Kaleb croons, kissing my shoulder.
His touch slides down my back, kneading tight muscles as he goes, and he finishes by rounding my hip to slip between my legs. One hand, slick with my arousal, begins to tease my clit, while the other makes its journey back up my body. The combination of nurturing and sexual caresses leaves my mind empty of anything outside of his touch.
Within moments, I’m left panting as I grind myself against his palm, chasing my release.
“Go ahead and come for me,” he encourages, pushing two thick fingers inside me. Then, he groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
“I want you now,” I plead, my hands tightening into useless fists above my head. The room seems loud simply from the wild beat of my heart.
“Show me,” he growls, his kisses now including teeth. He slips in a third finger, creating a low ache as I stretch to accommodate it. His free hand squeezes one of my breasts, twisting and pinching my nipple. “Come for me.”
He means this quite literally. Kaleb may not have the cock with the most inches, but he does reign supreme in girth. In an attempt to limit the possible pain from penetration, ever since the first time we made love, he ensures I come at least once before he’ll enter me.
Like a desperate animal, I shake and shiver under his ministrations, going so far as to wiggle onto my knees and elbows to try to press him deeper within me. The promise of an orgasm builds, the mounting pressure turning my muscles to stone.
With my butt now in the air, Kaleb sits back on his heels. His hand drifts from my breast to my ass, one cheek filling the palm of his hand. He spreads me wide, his thumb teasing my puckered hole. It feels so delectably naughty that another low moan breaks the sound of our labored breaths.
“I love the way you sound while I pleasure you,” he proclaims, dropping a heated kiss to the base of my spine. “Your moans are so sexy. Don’t hold back, columba mea. Let me hear you. Tell me how good you feel.”
“It feels...you feel…fuck, so good,” I cry, dizzy from the heady aroma of sex, sweat, and coconut. “Don’t stop!”
Staring at our reflections in the window, I see myself—hair a wild mess of blonde waves, my hands in a prayer position above my head, my lower body arched to give Kaleb better access to pleasure me—and another moan breaks free as I strain in ecstasy under his skillful touch.
My husband’s face is unguarded, his lids drooping low with lust and his full lips parted by harsh breaths. He’s enraptured by me. Through our movements, his pants have slid off his hips, exposing part of his round ass and a few inches of the base of his cock. That’s what sends me over the edge—the vision of us tangled together.
A little more desperate than he let on, Kaleb flips me onto my back, lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder, and pulls out his cock, glistening with precum. While I’m still twitching under the force of my first orgasm, he enters me.
Despite how many times we’ve had sex, or how much foreplay we have, I gasp every time because he’s always bigger than my body remembers.
He doesn’t move, just holding himself within me while I adjust. A deep, masculine groan rumbles low in his throat, already affected by my inner walls squeezing him with every throb of my heartbeat. “Gods, you’re tight.”
“You’re big.” I half laugh, my hips already encouraging him to move.
Noticing me slowly rocking against him, he holds my shin with one hand while the other gently goes back to stimulating my clit. Controlled even when desperate, he slowly begins to thrust, each stroke following a rhythm of his choosing. My hands are still very much bound, so again, I’m left to his mercy.
I feel wonderfully full as pleasure coils from what feels like a deeper place within me, and I’m left suspended in this d
reamy place occupied by only him and me. It’s wonderful, but not enough. Never enough.
“More,” I beg, twisting within my restraints and bucking my hips. “Deeper...Harder...Faster...”
“Like this?” His teeth glow white within his wicked grin. He moves my legs over his hips, and with his hands, he holds mine firmly above my head. He does a maddeningly slow thrust, sheathing himself to the hilt, and it feels so fucking good.
Digging my heels into his back, I try to encourage him to go faster, but that just leads to one of his hands gripping my hip to hold me steady. Again and again, he pounds deep within me, the measured pace pushing me higher and higher. Our shadows dance in the flickering light, while our skin grows slick with exertion, and I feel like I’m somewhere between flying and falling. Drowning under the sensations he stirs within me, I lean up and steal a kiss. He answers with a deep, lingering one of his own.
“Look at me,” he demands when our lips part, his features carved into a twisted expression of desire and possession. “Keep your eyes open and look only at me.”
I nod in answer, and he summons his beautiful golden white wings. Tucking them around us, he shrinks the world to only our joined bodies. Everything rises in intensity as I witness all the love, joy, and pleasure I feel mirrored in his eyes. I’m also a whole new round of frustrated since I know his wings are an erogenous zone and I can’t touch them.
If I can’t change the tempo, I can certainly heighten the beat. I meet each thrust of his hips with my own, undulating my body to rub against him. His breaths grow heavier, sharper, and my ears are now filled with the cacophony of lust filled moans, labored breathing, and the wet slap of flesh against flesh.
“It feels so good to be inside you,” he confesses, his brow furrowing in concentration while I feel his muscles tense between my thighs.
“So good,” I echo, my rational thoughts fluttering away with his harsh grip on my hip and more forceful pounding. “Yes...yes...don’t stop.”
Together, we climb to what feels like unreachable peaks, my entire being an overwhelming collection of sensations until I can no longer bear it, and I finally shatter beneath him. Pleasure ricochets through me so forcefully, my muscles seize, and I bow under its intensity.
My climax grips him so tightly he can barely move, and it’s not long before he follows me, moaning my name as he comes.
Riding the blissful aftershocks, I wrap my legs around his waist to hold him to me. No longer content with just being touched, magic flows through me to tear the rope from my limbs.
“Didn’t like it?” Kaleb questions through his labored breaths with concern, searching my face for something he might have missed in the midst of our lovemaking.
“No, I liked it,” I assure him, bits of rope tumbling off the pillows while I wrap my arms around his neck. “But now I want to be able to use my hands.”
“For?” he asks, both curious and bemused.
“To do this,” I answer gleefully, then gently run my fingertips over the soft downy feathers around the base of his wings.
His body shudders as if gripped by another climax, and then he collapses on top of me. “That wasn’t nice,” he mumbles into the pillow, gripping me tighter as he shivers under the mixed sensations of my inner walls milking his cock and my fingers stroking his wings.
“Liar,” I reply around a laugh, enjoying the feeling of us pressed together. “It feels very nice.”
Chapter 2
An earthy aroma of coffee mixed with hints of peppermint pulls me from a deep sleep the next morning. When I open my eyes, it’s to find Connor with a mug in his hand. A candy cane hangs off the edge of the mug like a stirring stick.
“‘Morning,” I mumble, blinking several times before my eyes focus. Once I’m awake enough to sit up, and I finish adjusting my night shirt that says Boss Witch across the chest, Connor hands me the mug. I breathe in the heavenly scent and croon, “Cada dia te amo mas.”
“¿Yo o el café?” He laughs. The low, smooth sound always makes me happy every time I hear it. The way it now comes so easily was hard won.
I pretend to think on the matter, taking a sip of my coffee and eyeing him carefully over the rim. Sitting down on the side of the bed, he stares right back at me like he has all the time in the world, a hint of an amused smile on his lips.
With a sigh that makes it sound like it was a close call, I answer, “I love you more, of course.”
“Helps that I bring your coffee every morning,” he counters with a grin, wrinkles crowding his amber eyes.
“Yes, it does,” I agree with a matching grin. After taking another sip, I fiddle with the candy cane, swishing it around in the mug. “What’s with this?”
“Festive,” he replies as he leans over for a kiss.
“Ah, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” I exclaim, hiding my mouth behind my free hand.
He squints, his gaze shifting from the coffee mug to my covered mouth. Making a quick decision, he nabs the candy cane from my mug, takes a bite off the tip, and drops the rest of it back in the mug. Gently, he pushes my hand out of the way and purrs, “Open up.”
His command causes shivers to race down my spine, and after setting my mug on the side table, I gamely do as he asks.
Connor closes the distance for a kiss, supporting the back of my neck with one of his hands while he feeds me the piece of candy from his mouth. Our tongues mingle around it, and the warmth of his mouth and the cold bite of peppermint is surprisingly sexy. It doesn’t hurt that all my husbands are amazing kissers. A wise Ms. Dorothy advised me long ago on the importance of that particular skill.
A dreamy hum vibrates from my throat in response to the way he lazily explores my mouth, and unconsciously, I lean into him, my hands searching for purchase on his shirt to pull him against me. His scent becomes heady, a musk mixed with his normal crisp fragrance of a forest, as need begins to burn through my veins. We’re in a sexual feedback loop—my desire for him heightening his desire for me, causing his body to react to attract his mate, which then makes me even more aroused. The more in sync we’ve become over the years, the more our bond has strengthened. It can also make our lovemaking rather intense if we’re not careful.
With visible difficulty, he pulls away first, breathing heavily while carefully detaching my hands from his soft blue shirt. “Finish your coffee, mi reina, before it gets cold. I’ll start the shower so the water is warm for you.”
“Then we pick up where we left off?” I suggest, chewing on the candy he left in my mouth.
“I look forward to it,” he murmurs, leaning over to give me another kiss, but he stops mid-motion, his expression a mixture of desire and restraint, and chooses to get up instead.
As the saying goes, I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave. Connor is broader in the chest and shoulders than he was when we were young, but he hasn’t lost that lanky grace he somehow manages with that six-foot-five frame. His ass also looks great in the sleep shorts he’s wearing, and I look forward to seeing him naked very soon. After I finish my coffee first. The power of a spirit witch may allow me to recover faster from a long night of making love, but a girl still needs her caffeine boost to make it through the day. Especially alone on a private island with five men all wanting my attention. A busy Yule meant a lot of nights where I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Gulping down my coffee as fast as I can without burning myself, I hop out of bed to start my day out right—shower sex with my hot wolf shifter husband. It’s good to be me.
Quickly taking care of my personal morning business, I strip down and step into an outrageously huge shower. My entire body throbs as I watch Connor rinse shampoo from his short, brown hair. His head is bent back under what looks like a waterfall coming out of the ceiling, his loose curls plastered to his skin. The water and soap running down his warm, copper skin sparkle under the sunlight shining through the mostly glass room. He’s fully erect, his cock drooping under its own weight and twitchi
ng between his thighs. A satisfied smile sneaks across his lips, already well aware I’m standing here ogling him.
“Like what you see?” he inquires, pushing back his hair and opening his eyes just enough to meet mine.
“Always,” I croak, stumbling like a drunk person over the white marble floor.
He catches me before I can do something truly embarrassing, holding me close to his body. “¿Estás bien?”
“I’m fine. It was all part of my master plan to get my hands on you,” I reply cheekily, snuggling into his embrace. Straining onto my tiptoes, I slide my hands up his chest and wrap them around his neck, my naked skin becoming wet and slippery against him.
“No plan needed,” he growls into my ear, gripping my thighs to hoist me into the air.
With a squeak of surprise, my legs automatically wrap around his waist, and a familiar ache once again blooms inside me, impassioned by the feeling of my core pressed against his firm belly.
He walks us both underneath the hot water, kissing me as he goes. Connor’s mouth still has the taste of the candy cane, while mine is just minty—I made sure to brush my teeth before getting in. This kiss is hungry, the ten minutes or so spent apart seeming to stoke the flames rather than cool them.
My arms and legs wrap tighter around him, and I press myself against him as if our bodies could meld into one, our mouths crashing together. With bruised lips, and the click of teeth meeting teeth, he consumes me, and I want more. I want him inside me. No foreplay. Just the harsh surprise of my already slick pussy taking his many inches in all at once.
One of the perks of being mates is that I don’t have to say a word for him to know what I want, my desire transmitted through our bond. Not bothering to walk out of the water, Connor uses one arm to brace me against him, while his free hand lines his cock up to my entrance.
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