Forbidden Seduction [ Forbidden Obsession]

I’m debating trying to make him come a third time when he catches me by the arms, hauling me up to him. “You’re going to kill me if you do that again,” he says, voice scratchy with pleasure and morning.

“But at least you’d die happy,” I say, smiling.

He leans over me, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. “Yes, I would.” His lips continue to tease my neck and chest, and I relax into the feeling of laying skin-to-skin with him.

“I wish we were alone,” I say.

He murmurs his words against my skin. “We are alone.”

“I mean today, alone in the house. We could stay in bed and I could take further advantage of that stamina you keep talking about.”

A kiss on my lips. “That sounds like the perfect day.”

I sigh, “I should get up and start on the turkey.”

Trevor wraps his arms around me. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to eat today?” I say, trying to wiggle out of his arms.

“Of course I do.”

I laugh, “Then let me go.”

A sly grin moves across his face. “You didn’t ask me what I wanted to eat.”

He dives down the bed, grabbing my legs and pressing them towards my chest. I’m totally open for him, still naked from the night before. He kisses my thighs, slowly working his way inward with light touches, never more than a brush of skin. He circles, getting closer, his kisses and licks more deliberate, avoiding where I want him to touch until I’m crazy for it. I’m seconds away from trying to force him to touch me when his mouth connects with my clit.

“Oh god.” It comes out of my mouth like a prayer, and I wonder if I would ever get tired of the way he makes me feel. I don’t think so.

He works me with his tongue, relentlessly bringing me to the edge. He seals his mouth over me, sucking deep, and my orgasm shatters open. It’s bright and fierce and wild and for a few moments I’m soaring over myself.

When I come back, breathless, Trevor’s grinning at me. “Now you can go make the turkey.”

I can’t remember the time I’ve actually put this much thought into my clothes. I like to look good, professional for my job, but I’ve never dressed knowing someone would be looking. I know Trevor will be looking. So after I put the turkey in the marinade and take a shower, I dig through my closet for something that’s going to make me feel sexy. Appropriate but sexy.

I finally find something, a deep blue sweater that’s been hiding in the back of my closet. I generally avoid wearing it because it clings to my skin and I don’t want the attention. I want that attention today. I pair the sweater with soft gray pants, and I feel good. Pretty.

The doorbell rings, and I hear Brad answer it. I come into the living room as Maria, Anna, and Richard all come inside.

“Has hell frozen over?” Maria asks loudly.

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She points at me. “You’re wearing color. Without being forced.”

“It felt like a colorful kind of day.” I give a nervous laugh, heading into the kitchen.

My sisters follow me. “Seriously, Stella,” Anna says, finding

a stool, “What’s the occasion.”

I give her a look. “Is it really such a surprise that I chose to wear a sweater that was in my closet?”

Maria unloads a bag of food that she brought with her. “When you choose to wear something that blue? Yeah.”

“Maybe she’s finally found someone she wants to impress,” Anna says.

“Really Anna?” I take the turkey carefully out of the marinade and slip it into its pan as the oven beeps that it’s hot enough. “I just wanted to wear this.”

“Well,” Maria says, “you look good.”

“Thanks.” I shut the oven door and check the time. It’ll be a few hours before it’s ready. It’s a small turkey. I’ve learned that cooking one of the giant ones just usually means a lot of leftovers in my fridge.

“But,” Anna says, “have you met someone?”

I groan, and make sure they see me rolling my eyes. “You two are ridiculous. It’s a sweater. Can we stop with the grand inquisition?”

“That’s not a no,” she says.

“It’s time to open presents,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Let’s get everyone into the living room.”

I have met someone, and that’s great. But it’s frustrating to no end that they think I wasn’t happy before. I was happy. I was fine. I don’t need to be married to feel completed. The boys have transformed the living room so everyone has room to sit. The couch has been pushed back against my bedroom doors, chairs from the dining room brought in so that there’s a giant circle.

I take the armchair that’s been pressed up against the window, and I notice that Trevor takes the space across from me in the circle. It’s the first time he’s seen me dressed today, and I watch his gaze slide slowly down my body and return. He gives me a slow nod and a smile, and a warm glow takes up residence in my stomach, all my annoyance at my sisters disappearing.

I love family Christmas. I always have. We have enough people that the pile of presents under the tree is large, and it’s fun to see them passed out. I love seeing joy brought to people’s faces by something I thought to buy them. We don’t tear into the presents either, we take turns. June always acts as ‘Santa,’ trying to make sure the gifts we’re opening are evenly distributed so no one opens all their presents at once. It takes longer, and I make sure that the snacks keep flowing, but I think it’s way more fun than everyone pouncing on their gifts and being done ten minutes later.

“But,” Anna says, “have you met someone?”