He tastes sweet like hot chocolate, and he devours me with his kiss. I grow wet between my thighs and my nipples pebble. A soft moan escapes me, and it must be his undoing because he grabs my waist with both hands and hoists me up and over so that I’m straddling him.

The feel of the hard ridge of his cock in his pants causes me to grind down onto him. He lets out a growl and his tongue glides up the side of my neck to my earlobe.

“Meant to tell you when you took your coat off earlier, love the shirt.”

Not what I was expecting him to say, but I smile. I was thinking of him when I put on my shirt that says, “When I think about you, I touch my elf.” A cartoon elf at the very bottom hem hangs in front of my pussy.

“I thought you might.” I try to keep my voice even, but it comes out weak and breathy as he bites my earlobe.

“Mind if I take it off?” He leans back and meets my gaze, waiting for approval.

I nod. I know it’s not what we talked about, but I’m horny and all the reasons he talked about waiting don’t matter right now.

He takes the hem of my shirt and lifts it over my head in one swoop, leaving me in my white lace bra and black leggings. My stomach fizzes with nerves as his gaze roams my body, but it’s clear he likes what he sees when I feel his dick grow even stiffer underneath me.

Andrew leans in, capturing my nipple with his mouth and running his tongue over the lace. It’s just enough to give me an idea of what it would feel like if I wasn’t wearing my bra, but not enough to satisfy me. He does the same thing to the other breast, and my hands push into his hair and tug. I need more.

As though he can read my mind, he undoes my bra, sliding the straps down my arms and tossing the lace aside. He squeezes and holds the weight of my tits in his palms. His thumbs rub over the nipples a few times, making them stiffer, then he pinches each and squeezes. The sensation is both pleasure and pain and my head whips back.

I feel his mouth on my right nipple while his hand explores my other breast. I look down as he worships my tits. There’s something übererotic about just being the observer while he pleasures me. My breathing picks up until I’m panting.

“Andrew,” I moan, expecting what, I don’t know. All I know is I don’t want this to end.

His fingers rub my mound over my leggings. Instinctively, I grind down on his hand, desperate for more friction.

“You like that?” He meets my gaze, waiting for my answer.