White Hot Holidays 17: A Very Faery Christmas Page 5

  Warmth as thick as a coat embraced Candice. An only child of a single mother, she had never experienced anything like what he was describing. His eyes sparkled when he talked about his mom and dad, siblings, nieces and nephews. It was a life she’d dreamed of, one simply out of her reach.

  When they finished eating, he stood and gathered his dishes. Together they cleared the table and began to clean up. Her mother had been sick for so long, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had helped her in the kitchen. Gordon looked so comfortable in his nudity, not to mention with household chores. When he wrapped his arms around her waist and cuddled up to her back, she released a sigh of contentment. He was hard, the evidence pressed against her back.

  This is how life should be lived.

  “Let’s forgo decorating the Christmas tree and go straight to bed. I need to be inside you.” His deep, sensual voice slipped around her like a glove.

  She turned in his arms and whispered, “Yes, Master.”

  With a quick sweep of his arms beneath her knees, Gordon cradled Candice against his chest. He nipped the tip of her nose as he moved toward the bedroom, but not before switching off the light. In the dark he made it to the bed, softly laying her down upon it.

  Tonight Gordon wanted to please Candice. He was proud of how quickly she’d learned. She was an excellent submissive, but she was more than that to him. His life felt like it was shifting. His desires and needs too. He not only wanted to dominate her, but to pleasure her and simply talk with her. She was so easy to be with.

  He held her leg high and slipped her shoe off, snapping the clasp of her garter to release the silky nylon. Her skin was like satin as he rolled the stocking over her thigh, her knee, slipping it free of her foot. Then he repeated the same thing with her other leg. “Did I tell you how incredible you look tonight?”

  Her answer was a breathy, “No, Master.”

  He smiled in the dark, dragging her garter and thong down at once. His palms stroked her legs before he parted them wide. She trembled as he moved close to her sex. With a single finger he caressed her slit.

  “What do you want, Candice?” The finger delved between her folds. She was warm and wet and ready. “Do you want me to fuck you with my cock or tongue?” Another tremor shook her. “You’ve never felt a man’s tongue slide across your pussy, have you?”

  “Master. Please.” It was a breathy plea that made his erection impossibly harder. The soft sounds she made drove him crazy.

  He reached for a condom off the nightstand. The ripping sound echoed through the room. It was cold against his warmth as he slipped it over his engorged cock.

  “You haven’t. I knew it.” He raised her legs, bending her knees so she was held open to him, then pushed his finger back inside her. “First I’m going to fuck you with my tongue. Then I’ll fuck you with my cock.” While one finger pumped in and out of her pussy, he reached down with his other hand and folded his fingers around his erection. He gripped himself tighter, moving up and down several times, relishing the pulling sensation and pressure building behind his balls. “Would you enjoy that, Candice?”

  She whimpered again, her hips writhing beneath his touch. Her desire for him was incredible. It stroked his ego, made him proud to be her man.

  Grasping the insides of her thighs, he slid down and pressed his mouth to her sweet folds.

  She gasped. Her legs jerked as if to close, but he held her wide. The fitful way she moved beneath his assault made him want her more. As his tongue slid across her slit, she cried out. “Master!” It was a high-pitched squeal.

  But he wanted to hear his name on her lips. “Gordon. For tonight call me Gordon.”

  “Gordon,” she breathed. The sweet sound of her voice filled him with warmth.

  The knowledge that he was the first to taste her and pleasure her in this way made his blood simmer through his veins.

  Mine.

  This was proving to be his best Christmas ever.

  He sucked, licked and nibbled until he felt her muscles convulse. Then he released her thighs and moved atop her. The darkness stole his sight, but he heard her raspy breathing, felt her hands grabbing and pulling him into her embrace. For a moment he held himself suspended. Grasping his cock, he ran the crown of it across her wet folds, loving the feel as she slid along the tip of his member. Inch by inch, he pushed into her body. Slowly, he drew each sensation out until he was fully seated in her. Then he began to move, thrusting his hips, taking his time to build the heat inside her once again.

  Fingernails bit into his back. Sudden pain flared, then a pleasure so intense that his orgasm hit without warning. His hips slammed into her once, twice and then fire raced down his cock. Stars exploded behind his eyelids. His legs braced against the bed, tightening until his toes dug into the mattress. A deep satisfying groan was wrenched from him.

  Candice’s body jerked beneath him. A soft cry caressed his ear as she climaxed. Her breathing came in small, fast pants. Although spent, he thrust again and again, hard, riding out her climax. The head of his cock was ultrasensitive. His arms quivered beneath his weight. He strained to show her the same pleasure she had given him. A final moan and she writhed as the last ripples of her orgasm died.

  Gordon collapsed, rolling to his side. He took a moment to clean up, using a tissue and disposing of his condom.

  “Master—uh, Gordon, may I use the restroom?” Candice asked.

  “Yes. And we’re through playing for the night.”

  She rose and headed to the bathroom. The bed was warm from their body heat as he lay upon his back, his hands folded behind his head. When she moved back into the doorway, the light behind her illuminating her silhouette, she looked like an angel.

  His angel.

  Then the light went out. The bed squeaked as she crawled upon it. Within seconds he was wrapped in her arms. She snuggled close and then drifted off into peaceful slumber.

  The alarm clock on her dresser flashed midnight in fluorescent green.

  It was Christmas.

  Chapter Six

  Candice woke to the emerging dawn of Christmas morning and Hector perched upon her pillow. He pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s time for me to go,” he said in hushed tones.

  A knot formed in her throat. The scent of soil and earth that was uniquely his surrounded her. For a moment she couldn’t speak. Then her head rose from the pillow. “Hector, don’t go. I need you.”

  Did he have any idea how much he meant to her? He had opened the door to a new and promising world, given her so much.

  A crooked grin touched his mouth. “You never really needed me.” A caring note rose in his soft voice. “The magic was inside you all the time. You just needed to believe in yourself.” Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Of course, those books you bought may have helped some.”

  She chuckled, knowing she would miss his teasing. “Will I ever see you again?”

  He shook his head. But there wasn’t an expression of sadness on his face, just one of joy.

  Gordon moaned, shifted, and then pulled her back into his arms. His warm body pressed close to hers. She snuggled back into his embrace.

  “Be happy, Candice,” Hector mouthed. Then, in a puff of glittering light, Hector vanished.

  Tears clogged her throat. She was going to miss him.

  Teeth nipping at her earlobe drew her attention. “Merry Christmas.” Gordon’s voice was rough from sleep. She turned in his arms and he kissed her gently.

  Crash. Bang. The sudden disturbance startled them both into a sitting position. They glanced at each other.

  “What the hell?” Gordon grumbled, throwing back the covers. He reached for his robe and slipped it on, covering all that wonderful flesh.

  Bright laughter came from the hall beyond the apartment door. The damn walls were so thin. Candice rose, donning her robe, too.

  Together they walked into the living room and jerked to a stop. The Christmas tree was decorated, its lights twinkling like st
ars in the heavens.

  It was beautiful. Magical. White icicles hung neatly off the branches, colorful bulbs sparkled.

  “How? Who?” Gordon asked as the noise in the hall grew louder.

  Hector. Candice smiled, gazing at the wooden faery atop the tree. It was an exact replica of her little faery, something to remember him by. Goose bumps slid across her skin. He had made her wish come true.

  The pounding of a fist against the door stole Gordon’s attention, heavy footsteps carried him toward the sound. As he opened the door, Candice heard a youthful voice yell, “Uncle Gordy. I thought you lived in 305, not 307.”

  Abruptly, all hell broke loose. It sounded like an invading army as everyone began to speak at once. Within seconds, Candice’s apartment was filled with strangers, big and small. Hugging and kissing and talking. All she could do was stand speechless, until Gordon drew her to his side.

  His face was flushed. “Apparently my family decided to surprise me.” His tone was cautious. A little blonde girl hung on his leg, gazing up at him with a grin and big blue eyes.

  Candice inhaled and released it slowly. “I can see that.”

  “So this is Candice.” A woman around Candice’s size and shape, but more than twice her age, approached. “Are you the reason my son was willing to forego Christmas with his family?”

  Candice froze. The pit of her stomach twisted.

  Then the gray-haired woman smiled, drawing Candice into her embrace. “I’m kidding, sweetie. We just couldn’t have Christmas without our Gordon. I hope we’re not imposing. Harry,” she waved frantically to Gordon’s father, “come meet Candice.”

  For about ten minutes total chaos reigned. Candice was passed from one person to the next for introductions and hugs. Gordon tossed the little girl who had been wrapped around his legs high into the air and then released her to join the other children.

  Then all the women present descended upon her kitchen. Brown paper sacks lined her kitchen table and counters, while behind her children laughed, placing presents beneath her tree.

  “Gordon, why don’t you and Candice get dressed while we start breakfast and Christmas dinner,” his mother, Mary instructed, reminding Candice of her nudity beneath her silk robe. “Honey, where is your roasting pan?” she asked Candice.

  “But, Mom—” His mother’s brow rose. Candice almost laughed as Gordon’s mouth snapped shut.

  “Beneath the microwave,” Candice responded.

  Gordon clasped her hand in his, then pulled her toward the bedroom. Once inside, with the door closed, he drew her into his embrace. “I’m so sorry. I never expected this to happen.” But the glow on his face told Candice that he was happy it had.

  She cupped his face and kissed him lightly. “I think it’s wonderful.”

  “You do?” Surprise lifted his voice.

  The muscles in her neck and jaws tightened as she fought her emotion. “Yes.” It was what she’d dreamed of for years. A real family. But would he share them with her?

  Gordon took Candice into his arms. “It’ll be fun. I promise.” He hugged her tightly. Behind him Hector suddenly materialized, his wings a blur as he dangled just beyond Gordon’s shoulder. Softly, he whispered, “Merry Christmas, Candice.”

  “Did you hear that?” Gordon turned, but Hector was already gone.

  Her life was fuller now.

  She had hope.

  And her Christmas wish had come true.

  About the author

  Email: mackenziemckade@mackenziemckade.com

  Website: www.mackenziemckade.com

  Mackenzie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1056 Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.

  Also by Mackenzie McKade

  The Game

  Forbidden Fruit

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