Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Izzy, I’ve never been much for holidays. If you want the truth, this is the first Christmas me or my uncles have celebrated since I was a small child. That I get to spend it with you is all I could ever ask.”
“Daniel and I never really did the whole Christmas thing, either. I’m glad my first one got to be with you, Sam.”
“Why don’t you grab the throw from the sofa and spread it out in front of the tree? Find one of those cheesy as hell Christmas movies you’ve been watching, while I get us both some wine. We can relax and enjoy the night together.”
“I’d like that,” I admit.
“Good,” he whispers, bending down to kiss me gently, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and sliding his tongue over it, like he doesn’t want to stop.
I don’t want him to.
He stands, pulling me up with him. He kisses the top of my head and gives me a sly wink. “I’ll be back.”
I nod, spending the next few minutes fixing the blanket in front of the tree while grabbing the remote for the television. I don’t really want to watch a movie. I’d rather be in Samuel’s arms and talk. I flip the television to the freebie Christmas background that shows a raging fire on it, with the fireplace decorated in pine swags, holly leaves, and berries. I dim the overhead lighting, grab some throw pillows off the sofa, and settle in. Samuel walks into the room, holding two glasses, and offers me one before he sits down beside me. I grin and then reach over to the tree, sliding my hand under the pretty pale blue skirt we have around the stand. My fingers latch on the manilla envelope I had hidden there. I pull it out, handing it to Samuel. He looks confused, and I try to fight through my anxiety by plastering a fake smile on my face. “Merry Christmas.”
He carefully takes my wine, stretching to put the glasses on the coffee table. Then he takes the envelope. His face looks … annoyed. “Interesting wrapping paper, Izzy.” I shrug. What can you say to that? He looks at the envelope and then tosses it away.
“What are you doing?” I cry, already struggling to get up and fetch the damn thing. Samuel doesn’t let me. He pulls me back down before pinning my body on the floor with him over me.
“I’d hoped this last month you would have stopped being so damn stubborn. Seems that’s not going to happen.”
“Sam—”
“You’re mine, Izzy. I don’t care if it’s been a month, a week, or a fucking day. You’re mine.”
“But—”
“We’re married. You’re in my bed every night. I may not have been inside your body, but I know what it feels like to make you come. If you think I’m going to let you walk away and risk some other man having what belongs to me, you’re insane.”
“Damn it, Sam, the papers—”
“I’ll fucking burn them, Izzy. I don’t know what you have in that beautiful but dense head of yours, but we are staying married.”
“Sam, you’re pissing me off,” I hiss, tugging on my hands he has trapped over my head.
“Good, because trying to give me divorce papers after the single best fucking day of my life has pissed me off. You don’t get to give me a taste of the life I’ve always wanted, then callously pull it away, Izzy. It’s not happening. You’re home for me. We belong together and if I must fuck you into submission, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“You’re being an asshole,” I growl, ignoring the way his words are setting my body on fire.
“Yeah, well, I’m your asshole, and it’s time for you to learn that.” His hand reaches under my long red silk skirt that I wore tonight. I hold my body completely still. My breath lodges in my chest as I feel Sam’s hand slide against my wet panties. “You’re soaked.”
“Sam—”
“You’re fucking soaked and still thinking about ending this? There’s no end, Izzy. You’re not walking away. I belong with you, woman. I refuse to let you push me away.”
He hooks his fingers into my underwear, quickly pulling it down my legs. I lift one leg and use my foot to help him push the flimsy lace fabric down. I repeat the same movement with my other leg, needing Sam’s touch.
“Please,” I whimper.
“You sound awful needy for a woman who was trying to push me out the door, Izzy,” he growls, as his fingers push between the lips of my pussy. My head goes back and my entire body arches toward him as I feel his fingers slowly circling my clit. I tug against his hold, wanting my hands free to touch him. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“Let me touch you,” I demand, desperation thick in my voice.