A Festive Treat

by Serenity Woods

  She kissed him, hard, then pushed herself upright and dropped a hand between her legs. He could only watch, fighting hard to retain his self-control, as she swirled her fingers over her clit, rocking her hips and using her other hand to play with her nipple at the same time. Her skin flushed a deep pink, and when she moved up and down, his shaft glistened with her moisture.

  It wasn’t long before her breathing grew irregular, and she opened her eyes and looked hazily at him. “Want to watch me come?”

  He nodded, because he couldn’t do anything else, and stared at her with wide, helpless eyes while her orgasm swept over her. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she clamped around him, gasping and squeezing his erection in short, sharp pulses that had him groaning out loud.

  How he managed to hold on, he had no idea, but when she’d eventually finished and opened her eyes to look at him, her face was filled with admiration.

  “Wow.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “That’s some impressive control you have there, honey.”

  He cleared his throat. “I clenched my jaw so hard I think I broke a tooth.”

  She laughed and lifted herself off him. Disappointment made him groan. His whole body burned, his erection throbbed, and his balls ached for release.

  Closing a hand around him, she removed the condom and disposed of it. “Now for the final act.” She positioned herself between his legs and licked her lips. “But you mustn’t come until I say so.”

  “Fuck. Skye…”

  “Do you understand?”

  He nodded and closed his eyes. He was never going to make it. Even James Bond wouldn’t last through that.

  She stroked him several times, her fingers tight around him, and then her warm tongue slid up the shaft before her mouth closed over the end.

  “Fuuuuuuck.”

  He felt her chuckle, but he didn’t open his eyes. Her other hand cupped and stroked his balls, while her tongue slid around the tip.

  “Skye…” His breath came hard and fast. No way would he last long with her doing that.

  She lifted her head. “Steady, soldier.” Stroking him gently, she waited until his tense muscles had relaxed before moving her lips over him again. He groaned, and she murmured her approval of his arousal as she tasted the moisture on the tip, licking him as if he were a melting ice lolly. Her lips slid down his shaft, and she took him deeper into her mouth.

  His blood boiled, but again she lifted her head and tutted at him. “Not yet.”

  He gave a long, heartfelt groan and flexed his fingers in their tight restraints, trying to resist the impulse to wrench the slats free of the headboard, tear off the scarves, throw her onto the bed, and fuck her senseless. “You’re killing me here.”

  “Ah, but when you come, it’s going to feel amazing.” She stroked him a few more times, sliding the skin carefully over the swollen tip. “Jesus, you are so hard, Owen.”

  “That’s because all the blood in my body is in my groin.” He opened his eyes and looked down at her, but that was a mistake, because the sight of her licking her lips, and the vision of the engorged tip of his erection heading into her mouth nearly sent him over the edge.

  He dropped his head back and clutched hold of the headboard. “Seriously. I can’t…wait…much longer…”

  Her tongue circled the tip. “Not until I say, mister, or you’ll be punished.” She lowered her head again.

  He clenched his jaw. He was conscious of the silkiness of her hair lying on his thigh, the smell of her perfume mingling with the scent of their arousal. Every lick and nip she gave with her mouth was magnified a hundred-fold against his hyper-sensitive flesh. The muscles in his arms, torso, and legs ached from being tense for so long, and his erection throbbed, so hard it almost hurt.

  She licked slowly around the head, then took him in her mouth again, and this time, she took him in deep, so deep the tip touched the back of her throat.

  That proved his undoing. He wanted to warn her—not every girl liked the sensation of a guy coming in her mouth—and he wanted to tell her to pull away if she disliked it, but he couldn’t get his brain to form the words. Instead, heat rushed up from his balls, and he climaxed with an intensity that took his breath away.

  Skye must have felt him tense, though, because she gave a deep murmur, and as he came in her mouth, the muscles of her throat constricted around him, drinking him down.

  It was the most intense orgasm he’d ever had, and it went on forever. By the time he’d finished, he was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged, his body completely exhausted.

  Lifting herself up, Skye leaned over and looked down at him. She shook her head. “Naughty boy.”

  He didn’t have the energy to do anything but blow out a breath.

  “Punishment time,” she said, and dipped her head to give him a deep kiss, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

  When she finally lifted up again, she was already laughing, aware what his reaction would be.

  He gave her an exasperated look and coughed. “Gross.”

  “Serves you right.”

  “Seriously? How was I ever not going to react to that?”

  She chuckled. “I’m staggered you lasted as long as you did. That’s some staying power you have.” Reaching up, she undid the scarves at his wrists.

  He groaned and rubbed them, then lowered his arms around her when she curled up at his side. “I feel as if I’ve run a marathon.”

  “You deserve a medal. You’re amazing.” She nuzzled his shoulder and touched her tongue to his skin. “Mmm. Salty.”

  “Jesus. Skye.” But he didn’t have the energy to push her away.

  She kissed his neck and fingered the pendant lying on his chest. “Thank you.”

  “Thank me? For what?”

  “For letting me do that. I’d always wondered what it would be like. You’ve fulfilled one of my fantasies.”

  He managed to summon the strength to turn his head to look at her. His eyelids felt as if they were made of lead, they were so heavy. “You’ve never done that before?”

  “Nope.” Her lips curved up. “Now you look smug.”

  “I cannot put into words the pleasure it gives me that you’ve never done that to another man.”

  Her gaze met his. The three little words hovered on his lips, but he didn’t say them. The humor faded from her eyes, though, to be replaced by a look of gentle affection.

  “Here.” She picked up the glass of whisky, took a mouthful, pressed her mouth to his, and passed it to him.

  He swallowed and licked his lips, glad that it removed the taste of himself. “That’s better.”

  “Sleep now,” she said. “You deserve it.”

  “I’m not tired,” he mumbled. “I could do you all over again.”

  He was asleep within seconds.

  *

  When Owen awoke, he was alone.

  Alarmed, he sat up and looked at the clock. It was four in the afternoon, so he hadn’t been asleep long.

  Long enough for her to abandon him, though.

  Rising, he pulled on his boxers and walked out into the kitchen. To his surprise, Mozart wasn’t anywhere to be seen either. The last time Skye had left, the Lab had sat by the front door, nose pressed to the wood, whining. Surely, she hadn’t run off with his dog?

  Owen glanced around the room, and then he saw her sitting on a sun lounger on the deck. Her feet were up on the balustrade, and her hand dangled over the chair and stroked Mozart’s ear while she looked out over the inlet.

  He clutched hold of the worktop for a moment, a wave of relief washing over him. She hadn’t left. Oh, dude, you’ve got it bad. He knew it, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it except hang on for the ride and hope he was still breathing when they got to the end.

  Hands shaking a little, he poured a couple of glasses of lemonade, dropped in some ice cubes, shivering as he remembered the way she’d crunched them before taking him in her mouth, and took the glasses outside.
/>   Mozart stood as he approached and wagged his tail, and Skye rolled her head to look over and smiled. “Hey, sleepy.”

  “Hey.” He gave her a glass, then bent to give her a long, lingering kiss. She wore one of his T-shirts, giving it some interesting curves. Her legs were bare, and he wasn’t sure if she was wearing panties.

  “Feel better?” Her eyes twinkled.

  He gave her a wry look, leaned on the balustrade, and sipped his lemonade. “Sorry I fell asleep, but it was your fault. You wore me out.”

  She giggled. “That’s because you’re an old man.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you enjoy your grandpa nap?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be cheeky. I told you, I’ll get my revenge.”

  She met his gaze, and her cheeks grew a little pink. “You shouldn’t make promises you’re not going to keep.”

  Sipping his lemonade, he narrowed his eyes. Oh, the ways in which he’d like to make her pay…

  She rested her head on the back of the lounger and surveyed him lazily. “Do you know how gorgeous you look standing there?”

  He looked down at himself. “These are my best boxers.”

  “I meant your body. It’s fantastic.”

  “Why, thank you.”

  “You have the nicest thighs.”

  He laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve been told that.”

  “I don’t know why. They’re all muscular and brown and hairy. So manly.” She nibbled her bottom lip, her gaze travelling down his body. “You’re amazing.”

  “Are you trying to make me blush?”

  Her lips curved up. “I just think it’s good to say what’s on my mind.”

  He saw her gaze rest on his crotch. “I know what’s on your mind, and it’s not my thighs.”

  “That’s true.” She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue.

  Any more talk like that and he was going to have to carry her back into the bedroom. He covered his private parts with his hand. “Skye…”

  “You don’t want me to praise it? I thought guys liked compliments about their…equipment.”

  He tipped his head from side to side. “It’s not the worst thing in the world.”

  “Then I have to say, you have a fantastic piece of equipment.” She fought back a giggle.

  “It needs regular maintenance, but it’s in pretty good working order.”

  “It certainly is. Just let me know when you need some upkeep and I’ll be glad to help out.”

  He smiled. “Thank you.”

  Her gaze turned wistful, a frown appearing on her brow. “You’re a lovely person, Owen. Sexy, funny… I don’t understand why you’re not married with six kids. Why are you still single?”

  Because I was waiting for you. He sighed. “It just didn’t happen. Or it hasn’t yet, anyway.” He finished off his lemonade. “You want kids?”

  Her smile faded. “I didn’t use to think so. I used to think I’d never settle down.”

  “But you’ve changed your mind?”

  She met his gaze, but didn’t say anything. Her hazel eyes studied him, thoughtful, wary.

  For the first time in his life, he wondered what it would feel like to wake up next to the same woman every morning. To have her belong to him, so no other man would touch her again. To have her belly swell with his child—to make a family with her. To grow old together.

  His lips curved slowly.

  Actually, it would be pretty fucking cool.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What are you up to tomorrow?”

  Skye thought about Owen’s question, feeling the slow beat of his heart beneath her hand. They were in bed, it was late on Saturday night, and they’d spent the afternoon talking, watching movies, taking Mozart for a walk, and then making lazy love again. She felt tired, achy, and slightly sore—no doubt partly due to overusing certain items of her anatomy that had nearly gone rusty through lack of use, and also possibly because her period was due the next day or so.

  What should she say to Owen? It had been a glorious day, and she’d enjoyed every minute of it, but she was still fighting with herself as to whether she should cool things off between them. Ultimately, though, what would be the point of that? Surely, it made more sense to make the most of this while she had it, whatever “it” was? Owen had been right—feelings like this didn’t come around very often, and although it was going to be sad when she left, that didn’t mean they shouldn’t enjoy the relationship while they could.

  So she nestled closer to him, kissed his shoulder, and said, “Nothing. It’s my day off from Treats. What are you doing?”

  “I’ll be working for a bit. I wondered if you’d like to come with me.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “Where?”

  “I’m holding a couple of dog training classes at eleven in Kerikeri, and an orienteering workshop in the afternoon in Kaitaia. You’re welcome to come with me. We could have lunch out.”

  Having watched him in action with Mozart, the chance to see them in action again was too good to pass up. “I’d love to.”

  “Cool.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I have something else to ask you.”

  “What?”

  His blue eyes surveyed her. “Stay with me.”

  “I thought I was.”

  “Until you leave, I mean.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You mean live here with you?”

  “Mmm.”

  She blew out a long breath. “I don’t think that’s a good—”

  Pulling her toward him, he kissed her to stop her speaking. She fought him for a moment, but he was far too strong, and eventually she went limp in his arms and just enjoyed the embrace.

  When he let her go, she rolled her eyes at him. “Look, you know I have feelings for you, Owen, and I don’t think it—”

  He kissed her again. She smacked his arm, but it didn’t make any difference. He kissed her until she stopped resisting, then lifted his head.

  Huffing a sigh, she shook her head. “If you think kissing me into submission is an option, you’ve got another—mmph.”

  This time, he didn’t stop, and it was a good few minutes before he moved back.

  By that time, she’d forgotten the question, and when he lifted his eyebrows, she just murmured, “Okay.”

  He grinned and lay back, pulling her tightly against him. “Good.”

  Sighing, she curled up by his side. It was hopeless to fight him. She might as well give in.

  *

  The dog training classes turned out to be great fun. Owen was a wonderful teacher—funny, warm, and with endless patience. He held the classes in a barn belonging to Marty, the volunteer member of Search and Rescue that Skye had met at the craft fair. The first class was a general training class for puppies, unconnected with Search and Rescue.

  “I just like working with dogs,” Owen explained when Skye queried what this had to do with his job. “They’re really easy to train when you know how, and they give such unconditional love.”

  She pondered on that sentence as she sat to one side to watch him put the owners and their puppies through their paces. The death of his sister, and the demise of his parents and Robert, had caused him to believe his heart would be safer given to a canine rather than a girl. She should feel honored he’d chosen to spend as much time with her as he did, she thought.

  She spent most of the hour laughing as the puppies ran amok, sat facing the wrong way, and did exactly the opposite of what their owners wanted, to their embarrassment.

  Owen kept his calm, however, showing the owners how to use treats to reward the puppies when they did the right thing rather than punishing them when they didn’t. By the end of the session, most of the dogs were sitting on command, and a couple were even staying put when the owners backed away.

  At one point, Owen beckoned Skye forward, paired her up with Mozart, and got her to join in as well. He made everyone else watch as she instructed the Lab, and altho
ugh she was embarrassed at first, she soon began to enjoy herself as she realized Mozart almost seemed to know what she was going to say before she said it—in fact, she was pretty sure the dog was training her rather than the other way around. Everyone was amazed at the Lab’s obedience, and it was easy to think for a moment she was a superb trainer, and it didn’t have anything to do with the hours of practice that had led to that point. Owen watched her with a small smile, and she didn’t miss the sneaky high five he and Mozart gave each other after the class.

  “You’re worse than Batman and Robin,” she told them as the other owners left. “Talk about a double act.”

  “We prefer to think of ourselves as Cassidy and Sundance.” Owen pointed his fingers into a revolver and fired them at the Lab. “Bang. You’re dead.”

  Mozart rolled obediently onto his back and splayed his legs in the air.

  “I’d be more interested to see the roles reversed,” Skye said wryly.

  “Later, sweetheart.” Owen snatched a quick kiss. “I’ll be happy to perform for you.”

  The second session was for Search and Rescue volunteers, and turned out to be much more serious. “Some emergency situations can take hours to resolve,” Owen explained to Skye. “It’s essential to keep the dogs’ stamina up and their fitness at peak levels.”

  Marty helped him set up an obstacle course in the barn followed by a large circuit outside, and Owen walked around as the owners took their dogs through their paces, correcting and guiding where necessary. Skye watched him demonstrate occasionally with Mozart, who stuck to his side like glue whenever they were performing, barely taking his eyes from his master. She could see the hours of training they must have put in together, because the Lab was by far the best-trained dog there, reacting immediately to each of Owen’s commands and following his hand gestures as he guided the dog over bales of hay, through tunnels, and in between poles.

  After the class, Owen stayed behind for a further thirty minutes to give Mozart an intensive workout, and Skye watched with more than a little admiration as he put the Lab through his paces. Alone in the field, the man and his dog seemed to forget she was there for a while, working as one as they completed several circuits together, then rotated through a sequence of commands.