Unwrapping Her Perfect Match: A London Legends Christmas Novella (9 page)

By the time she got back to the bedroom, John
was curled onto his side under the duvet. She slid into the bed
next to him, waiting for sleep to claim her. But sleep was a long
time coming. She passed the time listening to his deep breathing
and pretending she was asleep when he curled his big arm over her
waist and hooked it across her breasts. With his reassuring warmth
pressed into her back, she finally relaxed enough to drift
away.

Soft flesh pressing against his erection woke
John from a lusty dream. Only half-awake—if that—he indulged his
body’s natural desires, tightening his grip on a feminine hip so he
could press himself harder against the softness that felt so, so
good. So right.

The cotton-covered bum in front of him
wriggled. Circled. Let him fit himself into her cleft, where he
changed his rhythm. Up and down he rubbed, as if he’d penetrated
her already.

Gwen. He knew without opening his eyes this
bum was hers. It was more than just the memory of her heading to
his bedroom with him last night. It was the fact that he’d
fantasized about waking up with her every morning since the first
time he’d held her. A tiny moan escaped from her throat. He slid
his hand from her hip over her soft belly, over her
T-shirt—probably his T-shirt—up to her throat until he could tilt
her head back. He exposed the line of her throat to his mouth,
pressed open kisses from her jaw to her shoulder, dragging a
fistful of cotton down to get the hollow of skin above her
collarbone.

“John?” she whispered. As if she’d just woken
up. As if she hadn’t known what she was doing when she’d rubbed
against him. Maybe she hadn’t. Maybe her physical response had been
as instinctual as his.

“Mmm. Morning.” At least, he assumed it was
morning. His head felt a hell of a lot better. The room was still
dark, though, so maybe he’d only had a very healing few hours of
sleep. He nuzzled her where her neck met her chest, softly licking
the skin before sealing it with a kiss. “Sleep well?”

“Still asleep,” she mumbled. But her arms
came up and looped around his neck, holding him close while she
buried her face in his hair and inhaled. “Ohhh, this is a lovely
way to stay asleep.”

He chuckled and let his hands wander to the
hem of the shirt she wore. It bunched around her waist, leaving her
covered by only a pair of panties below. Pulling the hem tight, he
tugged it back and forth across her stomach, easing it up higher
and higher with each pass. He opened his eyes just enough to watch
her reactions, make sure she was okay with where they were going.
She stared back at him with a sleepy gaze, but no hesitation.
Lifting her arms over her head until she flattened her palms
against the headboard, she arched her back enough to help him lift
the shirt higher.

Fucking hell, every inch of skin he revealed
left him harder than he’d thought possible. Her skin grew softer
and softer the higher the shirt went, until the bottom curves of
her large breasts were bare to him. He stopped, pulling the shirt
tight across her nipples. Her moan and eager, shifting legs
could’ve made him come in his pants, but he somehow managed to hang
on to his control.

“John. More.”

He slowly lifted the shirt to reveal her
tight, pink nipples. Dark pink. Everything else about her was so
fair he could’ve mistaken her for a Norse goddess. But she was
real. And she was in his bed.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her—just in
case she hadn’t figured out how badly he wanted her. The story Liam
had told him about the fuckwit who’d deceived her echoed in his
brain. “So fucking beautiful. I want every lush inch of you,
Gwen.”

He rose onto his knees and tipped her onto
her back. Straddling her, he bent his head and flicked the tip of
his tongue across her nipple. She arched against him, her pelvis
meeting his. When she relaxed back into the mattress, he wrapped
his lips around her nipple and sucked, using his hands to rub and
massage and tease both of her breasts until she writhed beneath
him, biting her lower lip.

“Oh, God. I...this...”

She moved suddenly, crunching up and whipping
her shirt over her head. Bare from the waist up, wearing only white
cotton panties from the waist down, her hair streaming over her
shoulders and her nipples peeking out from between the strands like
strawberries hiding in vines, she was his every fantasy come to
life.

“Your stomach is amazing,” she said with
reverence. She pressed her hands to his abs, and he tightened them.
Why the hell not? He spent enough time sculpting them. The tip of
her tongue darted out to wet her lips, a sight so erotic he barely
clung to his self-control. Wrapping his fingers through her hair,
he tilted his mouth across hers, seeking and stroking her tongue
the way he wanted to delve into every other part of her body. She
stretched up, her breasts flattening against his abs, her waist
curving against his erection. Still he kissed her, held her, desire
wrapping through every part of him.

Her hands refused to settle anywhere for
long. They swept over his chest, pressed against his cheeks. Her
fingernails teased his scalp before her touch moved downward again,
sliding over his shoulders, down his back to the waistband of his
briefs. Then below. Her hot hands cupped his arse, squeezing once
before the tips of her fingers slid between his legs from behind
and brushed the ultra-sensitive skin of his sac.

“Holy fuck!” He forced himself to stay as
still as possible, but he couldn’t control his breath, panting hard
against her neck as he hunched over her on his hands and knees. Nor
could he control the shiver that rippled through him at the obscene
pleasure of her touch. “Don’t stop. Don’t—wait. No. Stop.
Stop.”

She stopped and he wanted to shout,
Don’t
stop!
But he was on a razor’s edge, and he didn’t want to
disappoint her their first time together.

Or any time they were together—because they
would do this a lot. Intuition and the desperation pumping through
him told him that. One touch, one taste, it wouldn’t be enough. He
let his gaze rake over her flushed, mostly naked body. Oh yeah.
They would do this a
lot
.

Still straddling her, he rose to kneel and
slipped his fingers under her panties, but she stopped him. “How’s
your head? Does it hurt?”

“Terribly.”

Her brows drew together. “Oh. Is that why you
asked me to stop?”

“Mmm-hmm. My head’s throbbing and feels like
it’ll explode any second now.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it
to his erection. “See?”

The concerned nurse faded away in a
heartbeat, replaced by a naughty one. “Maybe I should kiss it and
make it better.”

Yes yes yes.
But he couldn’t speak. He
was helpless to do anything but watch as she pulled the front of
his boxer briefs down far enough to cup his bollocks and lift them
and his cock out. The elasticated waist bit into the soft skin
under his testicles, but the sight of her leaning forward to take
the tip of him between her lips made the pain feel like the most
intense pleasure.

He held her head, not pushing or guiding but
just because he worried he would fall over if he didn’t have
something stable to help him keep his balance. His head—the one up
north—did throb now, but fuck if he would tell her that. Her pink
tongue stroked and teased him. More pink. Pink flushed skin. Pink
nipples. He could make a career of exploring her pinkest parts.

Her hot breath whispered against his most
sensitive flesh. “I can’t believe you’re so big.”

The familiar words took a second to sink in.
Then he remembered—on the night they’d met, he’d jokingly told her
that he’d wanted to hear her say them. She pulled him deeply into
her mouth, and he marveled at something he’d never figured out
before. Small women had small hands, small mouths. This act had
always been uncomfortable for him because he got the impression it
was uncomfortable for the women he was with.

Not Gwen. She truly did fit him in every
way.

He cupped Gwen’s cheek and tilted her head
back, nearly coming at the erotic sound of himself popping out of
the sweet suction of her lips. Leaning over, he yanked open the
drawer of his nightstand where he’d stashed an extra box of condoms
the day after they’d met. Never again would he leave a woman on his
couch long enough to have second thoughts. The movement made
pressure build behind his eyes, and black spots danced across his
vision.

Goddamn bruised brain.

Suiting up, he tugged Gwen’s panties down her
legs. “I’ll do so much better next time, Gwen. I promise.”

He didn’t know if he was even making sense—or
if the noises he made were actually intelligible words. Both heads
felt ready to explode now, and his whole body ached with the things
he wanted to promise her. That the next time they were together, he
would eat her all night long, make her beg in any language she
spoke. Lap at her until she lost all language and could only
moan.

But for now that was him.
He
was the
helpless one lowering himself over her, sinking into her hot, wet
body, thrusting until she’d taken all of him. Desperate not to lose
control completely and wake up the whole household with his
orgasmic shouts, he gathered Gwen close and kept his thrusts small
but forceful. Soon the keening sounds she made in his ear urged him
to thrust harder, faster. His hand slid down her sweat-slicked
body, over her breast, down her belly until he pressed his thumb
into the soft hair covering her pubic bone. He drew her skin tight
and she arched in his arms, met him thrust for thrust, bit down
hard on her own fist and came apart with a muted cry.

Before she’d even begun to relax, he slipped
his hands around to her arse and squeezed tight. He clenched every
muscle in his body as he thrust and fucked and worshipped the
unbefuckingleavable bounty pulsing beneath and around him. She
yanked his head down to her shoulder and whispered in his ear,
“Come for me. Come.”

He did. His whole body exploded, and the
black dots that had been dancing around his vision exploded too, a
supernova of pleasure and pain dragging him into
unconsciousness.

“John? John!”

Gwen lurched up as John collapsed onto his
back next to her. Pulling one of his eyelids up, she quickly
examined his pupils. Dilated.

Before she could roll him into the recovery
position, he jerked his head away from her and blinked. “I think
you killed me.”

“I think you gave me a heart attack.” She
pressed her palm against her chest, rubbing where it hurt. Regret
and relief hunched her shoulders. “We shouldn’t have done that. You
need to be really careful about physical activity for the next few
weeks, and that includes sex. I should’ve stopped us. I’m
sorry.”

His brows shot up. “You’re not seriously
apologizing for having sex with me, are you? Because I promise I
don’t blame you for doing it.” He cringed. “Fuck, that sounded like
I think I’m irresistible. I didn’t mean it like that. Blame it on
the brain damage.”

“You might not think you’re irresistible, but
I’m starting to.”

“Really?” His hands stroked up and down her
arms before he tugged her across his chest. “Tell me more about
that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never met a man
before whose ego was proportionate to the size of his penis. In my
experience, the bigger the swagger the more disappointing the
member.”

He snorted. “All I heard you say just now was
that I’ve got a big cock.”

“John, we have to be more careful. I don’t
want to hurt you.”

“I play rugby, love. I like a bit of
pain.”

She dragged her fingernails lightly down his
sternum to his abs and circled his belly button as he shuddered. “I
don’t want to do any long-term damage, then.”

He pulled her down for a long kiss. When he
pulled away, he said, “Any idea what time it is?”

Time to change the subject, apparently. She
glanced at the clock behind him. “Three.”

He grunted. “Let me go to the loo and tidy
myself up, then I want to hold you while we sleep.”

The words wrapped Gwen in lighthearted
giddiness. As he took care of the condom, rolled out of bed and
tugged on his boxer briefs, she ran the words back in her head over
and over. He wanted to hold her while they slept. That meant this
was more than sex. The simple, nonchalant way he’d said it made it
clear he hadn’t expected that they would do anything
but
cuddle for the rest of the night.

She leaned over the side of the bed and
grabbed the T-shirt she’d stripped off earlier. She shoved her arms
through the sleeves and had just pulled it over her head when big
hands yanked it off her.

“This is a clothing-free zone,” John said.
“Now scoot over so we can naked-cuddle.”

She moved to the middle of the bed, rolled to
her side and settled into his warm embrace. When he pulled her even
closer, she hid her grin in her pillow.

She woke up several hours later to the rumble
of John’s deep breathing and the rhythmic expansion and contraction
of his chest against her back. Gently lifting his arm from its
protective perch across her chest, she slipped away, got out of bed
and pulled on her clothes from yesterday as quietly as she could.
Today she would have to go home and pick up some more. At least
she’d only worn these for about four hours yesterday, between
getting off work and going to bed. Wearing them over the course of
three days would stretch the boundaries of hygiene, though.

When Gwen got to the living room, Agnes was
sitting on the couch reading a fat tome.

“
Salut
, Agnes.
Tu as bien
dormi?
”

The girl shrugged. “
Oui, plutôt
bien
.”