Austin's Christmas Shortcake Read online
Page 4
“It’s yummy, Daddy.” Her eyes shimmer with childish excitement.
I take it and as soon as I bite into the crunchy treat I can’t stifle the groan. “This is incredible, Lil.”
“They’re a new recipe, just testing it out. Tomorrow I’ll make some cinnamon ones.”
“Yes!” Chelsea squeals. There’s something about the spice that my little girl loves. The TV is on and A Christmas Carol comes on, which drags Chels’ attention immediately. She’s on the carpet in seconds, her plate of dessert beside her with a glass of milk.
I rove my gaze over the scene, me, Chelsea, and Lily, and I know I’ve finally got the family I’ve wanted all this time.
“You wanted the hat, Santa?” Lily teases seductively when I enter the bedroom.
Once the movie was over, Chels fell asleep almost immediately and we put her to bed. The sight before me, though, is pure temptation. Lily is sitting on the bed, her back to the door, wearing black lingerie with the red Santa hat I requested she wear earlier.
“I wanted so much more than that, Shortcake.” I stalk toward her, tugging my shirt from the waistband of my jeans. As soon as it’s free, I’m unbuttoning it and shrugging it off. Her eyes roam over my exposed chest, heating my blood like only Lily can.
“I do prefer you without your shirt, Mr. Bailey.” She smirks, her lips curling seductively, and I’m dying to see just how pretty they look wrapped around my dick.
“I have a gift for you, before I make you moan and whimper.” Reaching into the pocket of my jeans, I pull out the small velvet box.
Her eyes widen at the gift as I hand it to her. Tentatively, her delicate fingers snap the lid open. Inside is a silver key.
“Austin.” Her whispering my name does things to me. “What is this?”
Settling beside her on the bed, I take her hands in mine. “I want you to move in with me and Chelsea.” My words have never been surer.
“That’s a big step.”
She’s right. It is. But I know deep down this is what I want and need.
“I mean… Can I think about it?” Her question stills my heart for a moment, but I understand. She has her life ahead of her and I can’t expect her to drop her plans for me.
“Sure, just…” I lift her hands to my mouth, kissing her knuckles as I meet her eyes. “Don’t think too long?”
She nods with a smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I won’t.”
Then she sets the box on the nightstand and turns to me. The air shifts from tentative and emotional to heated and lust-filled.
“Time for your gift.” She reaches behind her, unclasping her bra. Once it’s on the floor, her panties follow and all she’s wearing is her Santa hat. Her long legs are toned and lit by the golden light of the candle that sits on the dresser.
“You’re exquisite. I couldn’t want anything better.”
“There’s more.” She winks. Turning to the small table that’s behind her, she lifts the champagne and saunters by me toward the bathroom. I follow her, confused at what she’s doing, when I see it. Every inch of the room is decked in red and gold candles. The corner tub is filled with bubbles and I watch her step into the warm water.
When she turns to look at me, she lifts the bottle and trickles the liquid over her tits, allowing it to follow a path down to her pussy.
“How about that dessert, Doctor?” she quips and I’m a feral animal let loose from my cage.
I join her, my mouth immediately on her peaked nipples, sucking and licking the sweet alcohol from her equally delicious skin. Her moans echo around us as my mouth gives her the pleasure she craves. My fingers move over her bare skin, two fingers taunting her slick folds, stroking her. As soon as I dip two fingers into her molten core, she cries out, the sound catching in her throat.
I settle back, sitting in the tub, and guide her over me. “I want you on my face. I’m eating your sweet cunt until your legs are shaking and you can no longer stand,” I inform her as she positions herself over my mouth. Her essence is intoxicating as my mouth claims her beautiful body.
Her hips roll and undulate as she takes her pleasure from my tongue that’s delving into her hole.
“Yes, yes, Austin, oh God,” she moans as her hands attempt to grip the tiles.
Her knees tremble, but my mouth doesn’t relent. I need more. I want her. My fingers tease her. Wetting one digit with her arousal, I trail my way to her forbidden entrance. The tight puckered hole pulses and she grunts when I slip it inside her.
“Fuck, oh fuck.” Her words are raspy as she mumbles incoherent pleas.
I continue my assault on her until I feel the familiar pulse. Both her holes suck my finger and tongue into their depths as she finds release, soaking me in her delicious juices. Slowly she lowers herself into the water and onto my waiting cock.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” I tell her, earning me an incredible blush. “Take your pleasure from me, Shortcake. Ride my dick.”
And she does. Her body moves over me, her breasts in my face, and I revel in every inch of her.
All that’s on my mind as she finds her release along with me is that she has to say yes to moving in. I want her here and I won’t stop until she’s right beside me every morning and every night.
Lily
The cinnamon aroma of the baking cookies causes my mouth to water. Chelsea giggles at the animated story on the screen and I’m curled up with a book on the sofa. Since Austin left a few hours ago to see one of his patients, I’ve made two trays of shortcake, and one of cinnamon cookies. For some reason, Chelsea is addicted to them and her dad has a preference to the strawberry decked sweet stacks.
“Lily,” the tiny voice from the carpet calls to me, dragging my imagination away from Austin and what he does with the shortcake.
“What’s up, munchkin?”
“Can we have cookies now?” Her bottom lip sticks out as she pouts at me. The puppy dog eyes she has down to a T make me giggle.
“No cookies till I get home.” Austin’s voice comes from the doorway.
She leaps to her feet and races toward him. She’s in his arms in seconds. He looks tired, but the five o’clock shadow that graces his jaw makes him look so sexy.
Pushing off the sofa, I pad over to him and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. He turns his head and gives me a sloppy wet smooch on the lips only get an eeew gross from Chelsea.
“Behave,” I tell him as he sets her on her feet.
She’s forgotten about the cookies when her favorite TV show comes on and leaves us to talk. When Austin asked me to move in, I had to think about it. My parents didn’t accept us at first, but each time they saw us together, they noticed he makes me happy, and so does Chelsea.
“Are you ever going to give me an answer?”
I know what he wants, but I planned the surprise and if I give him my answer now, it will spoil everything.
“No, Austin. Give me time, please?” When I meet his gaze, I notice the hurt flashing in them. My heart aches at the sight. I never want to see him sad. I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before.
“Anything for you,” he murmurs and heads toward the bedroom, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
I’m about to follow when a knock on the front door that I’ve been waiting for comes. Chelsea is already pulling it open when I reach it to find my mom and dad standing in the entrance.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom says, pulling me into a hug. “Does he know?” she whispers in my ear.
I shake my head when she steps back. Once I’ve given my dad a hug, I step aside and they make themselves comfortable on the sofa.
“I’ll be back with Chelsea’s things. Thank you for doing this,” I say before heading toward her bedroom. They’re chattering away to her about taking her to the mall to go ice skating when I find Austin in her bedroom.
“My folks are here to take Chels to the mall,” I tell him. He nods, but doesn’t respond. “Look, Austin, I wanted to tell you this later. I
planned a whole dinner surprise, but since you’re acting like a four-year-old, I’ll tell you now.”
His gaze snaps to mine in shock at my words. With both my hands on either hip, I narrow my eyes and glare at him for spoiling it.
“My answer is yes. I’ll move in with you and munchkin. I’d asked my parents to take her out for a couple hours so we can have alone time, but since you’re—”
He doesn’t allow me to finish my sentence. He’s on his feet and his mouth crashes against mine in a heated kiss. I moan under his warmth, his tongue sweeping against my lips, and I allow him to taste me. A groan so low and hungry rumbles in his throat and I smile against his mouth.
When we finally break apart, our breathing is ragged. My body is tingling with anticipation of being with him again. This man makes me crave things I never knew possible.
“Do I still get my surprise?” he questions on a sexy, sinful smirk.
I shake my head. “No, you ruined it.”
His hands trail down to my ass, giving it a playful squeeze.
“I never ruin anything. Besides, now we can celebrate with that bottle of bubbly and some whipped cream.” He releases me, striding confidently from the room. The man is insatiable, but so am I. There’s no way I can deny him anything.
Quickly, I grab Chelsea’s jumper and her boots and head back to the living room to find Austin chatting to my dad about taking a family vacation next year and my mother and Chelsea playing with Barbie dolls, dressing them up in the tiny fur coats she got for Christmas.
“I’m ready!” she squeals excitedly.
If it weren’t for her, my parents would still be on the fence about Austin and me, but because of her personality, she’s won them over in record time. My heart soars when I think of how happy I am with my new family.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go before the ice melts,” Dad teases as he grabs his keys, shaking hands with Austin, and the three of them make their way out the door. And then we’re alone.
“Now, Shortcake, it’s time for me to devour your sweet pussy,” he murmurs in my ear, sending heat traveling all the way to my toes.
“You’re going to kiss me with that dirty mouth?” I quip, spinning in his arms.
“I’m going to do so much more than kiss you.” He smirks, lifting me by my ass.
I wrap my legs around him as he walks us into his bedroom. I’m already wet and needy when he slides my tights and panties down my legs.
“You’re so beautiful, Shortcake.” The words he tells me every day send my heart soaring.
“And you’re so handsome, Doctor.” I wink down as he leans in between my legs.
His lips give feather soft kisses from my ankles to my knees. He moves slow, torturously slow. My body bows off the bed and I fist the sheet.
“Quit taunting me,” I tell him. All I get in response is a chuckle.
His mouth is warm as he moves higher, just missing my drenched core. “You know,” he says between kisses, “I could lick”—kiss—“devour”—kiss—“and play with you all day.” Another kiss, but this time, he draws the sensitive skin of my inner thigh into his mouth, sucking on it until I’m sure he leaves a bruise.
He continues the same way to the other thigh and I’m ready to explode when he gently strokes my pussy with two fingers, up and down my slit, causing me to shudder and my legs to tremble.
“Because,” he says, blowing cool air on my core. “I love watching you come apart for me, Shortcake.” His words are husky and low. Then, before I have time to respond, or think of anything more, his mouth lands on my slit, sucking my clit into his mouth, and I’m unraveling like a ball of string. My cries are loud and I’m thankful that Chels isn’t here because I’m sure the neighbors can hear me.
My eyes roll back as he dips two fingers inside me, pumping them in and out. Another orgasm so fierce hits me that I’m certain I’m about to pass out. He doesn’t relent. I’ve drenched his mouth, face, tongue, and I can’t stop chanting his name.
“That’s my sweetness,” he utters with reverence.
I’m still coming down from the high when he rises and I notice he’s already naked. He settles himself over me, between my thighs, and nudges my entrance. Easily, my slick heat accepts him and I wrap myself around him like I’m trying to climb into him. As if we’re about to become one person.
“Austin.” His name on my lips is pure pleasure as he moves with me. Our bodies are synced as always. His cock plunges into my depths and I claw at his back, pulling him deeper. “More, please,” I cry out as the crown of his dick hits that spot and I see stars.
“Yes, baby, come for me,” he growls, and I do.
I fly apart around him, pulsing and sucking him into my body. I’m needy. I want all of him. Always. Forever.
“I love you, Austin,” I whisper into his ear.
His eyes meet mine and they crinkle when he smiles. “And I love you, Lily.”
His Temptation
A Taboo Novella
Forgive me Father…
Reid
It’s been one of those days.
The collar is tight.
The church is stifling. The only thing I long for is time outdoors. Fresh air without the memory of her. She walked into the confessional again this morning. Her voice so gentle, sweet, wholesome. I recognized the tone at once; even though confession is anonymous, I knew it was her.
Sage King.
One of the most popular eighteen-year-old girls in this modest community. Trinity is one of those scenic harbor towns. When the rector asked if I wanted to move to Canada, I accepted. I’d needed to leave the US, and this was the ideal opportunity.
Eight months ago, I packed a suitcase and strode out of the small log cabin I called home and never looked back. When I turned twenty-five, I didn’t expect my life to take the direction it did, but now, at thirty, I’m married. Not to the woman I loved. To God.
Only, I’ve had a wandering mind. It goes places it shouldn’t. I’m sitting in my office, preparing a sermon for Sunday’s mass, and the only thing on my mind is that young woman.
Her long, dark hair, sleek, straight, and glossy. The color reminds me of gingerbread, the length perfect for wrapping around my fist. Her big, brown eyes innocent, although sinful. Her mouth. Fuck. I can’t think about her lips without my dick straining against the black slacks I wear every day.
Dropping the pen, I sit back, shutting my eyes, remembering the confession this morning.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“And what is it you need to confess, child?” My tone is gravelly. Her voice sends heat racing through every part of my body, and I have to adjust my thickening erection. It’s worse than I realized. The guilt eats away at me, but I’m a human being. Weak. Needy. I can’t stop my desire for her.
“I’ve . . . I mean . . .”
“It’s okay, child. You’re safe here.”
Is she? No. Because if she strode into this booth and dropped to her knees, I don’t think I’d be capable of saying no. There’s no way I’d be able to resist sinking into her mouth. Having those glossy, pastel-pink colored lips around my cock would be heaven itself.
“There’ve been things I’ve done. Things I shouldn’t do. My parents would disapprove of me if they knew.”
“We all do things we’re not proud of, little lamb. It’s how we repent that absolves us.” Her breathing hitches. The sound sends a jolt of pleasure to my balls. They hang heavy, wanting to empty into a willing vessel. Something tight. Hot. Wet.
Fuck. Scrubbing my palms over my face, I inhale a long breath.
“Father, I’ve touched myself.” Her words come out in a whoosh.
As wrong as it is, her voice has this effect on me, and my dick agrees. He's ready to burst through my slacks. I shouldn’t do this. But I find my hand on the bulge as she tells me her dirty tales. “There’s a man. He’s . . . older. I . . .”
“Go on,” I urge. My voice strained as I stroke myself throu
gh the material.
“I think about him, and I feel a tingle between my legs. It’s . . . I’m so ashamed, but I can’t stop. I mean . . .”
I know what you mean, I want to tell her. To confess my own dirty fantasies. My own filthy sins. But I can’t. I don’t. Instead, I rub the aching hard-on in my pants.
“My fingers get so wet,” she continues her torturous confession. “And I . . . I find release. I find ecstasy. How can it be wrong? It feels so right.” My body locks. Immediately the wet spot in the black material shows, and I stifle a groan.
“Ten Hail Marys’ child,” I bite out, shoving the door open, fleeing before she sees me.
Glancing at the page that has two lines of a sermon, I sigh, realizing I’m no better than the damn sinners I’m talking about. How do I tell people to pray, to confess and repent, to be honorable citizens when my mind is filled with dirty thoughts? I should be different. It’s why I entered the church, to dedicate my time and life to doing good.
I’m worse. I’m a hypocrite. Every Sunday I stand up before my congregation and preach about morals, values, respect, and I’m breaking every one of those rules. I should rip off the damn collar and burn it. Perhaps I’ll burst into flames.
A knock at the door drags me from my secret thoughts. “Come in,” I call to the visitor. Rising from my chair, I round the desk only to be halted in my tracks. The brunette who’s been haunting my mind, dreams, and fantasies stands on my threshold looking almost ethereal. I say almost because her body is far from it. It’s sinful. Curves fill out the black jeans she wears. Her top—a pastel-blue, flowery, satin material—fits loosely around what I can only imagine being pert breasts.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you, Father. I . . .” Her voice drops to a mere whisper. She regards me with big eyes glistening with hope and anxiety. “I wanted to talk to you.”