***
I got what I wanted for Christmas. The second time I skimmed my tongue over her clit, she cried out. It was brief and before the orgasm consumed her, her hand was over her mouth sheltering the sounds.
I'd rolled a condom over my cock right after as the taste of her lingered on my tongue. I was relentless, driving my dick into from behind so her so hard the headboard pounded out a rhythmic beat on the wall. That's when she gave me the most precious gift she could have. She moaned as she climaxed. It was music to my ears and enough to make me come. I did. It was so intense that it dropped me to my knees beside the bed when I tried to stand.
I'd found just enough strength after that to toss the condom into the wastebasket before I crawled into bed with her.
"Do you have to go?" She pushes her naked back into my chest.
"No." I wrap my arms around her. "I'm staying. I don't need to be anywhere until tomorrow afternoon."
> "We can fall asleep like this," she whispers. "I'll sleep like a baby tonight."
I will too but first I have to do something. I lean forward and cocoon myself around her. Then I rest my lips against her ear and I softly sing Silent Night to my Christmas angel.
Chapter 17
Lark
I wake to silence. There's no sound in the room, only the distant blast of a car horn from somewhere outside the closed window. The radiator quieted sometime during the night which means my bedroom is cold. It's too cold. I slide my legs over the cooled sheet; the bite of the chill of the air entices me to tug the blanket closer, wrapping it around my body. I open my eyes then, wanting to see his handsome face next to me.
The indentation of where his head met the pillow is all that's there. The blanket is flung open on his side. The sheet is still warm from where his large frame was.
"Ryker," I call out quietly. "Where are you?"
My gaze catches on the empty nightstand. I saw his phone there during the night when I woke briefly to pinch myself to make sure it was all real. We'd make love before he sang me to sleep with a raspy and soothing version of my favorite Christmas song.
I must have slept for an hour or two before his hands were on me again. I'd taken the lead buoyed by his words last night about lovers and needs. I took his cock in my mouth and let my desire for him take over. I'd licked and sucked, not caring if I was doing everything right. I moaned around his cock when it touched the back of my throat.
He liked that. His hands twisted in my hair, his hips bucked.
I braced myself to take his come but he'd pulled back and stumbled into the other room. He came back with a condom and slid on top of me, fucking me slowly while I clung to him, riding the crest of my orgasm over his.
I whispered in his ear then that Boyd, the first man I gave myself too, laughed when I let myself go. I'd chanted 'Oh God' over and over as I rode his cock and Boyd the bastard had stalled, stilling me with his hands on my hips. He'd laughed at me before he told me that I sounded like a hyena.
The words haunted me, guiding my voice whenever I was with a man until last night.
Ryker kissed me when I confessed to him that he made me feel safe.
"Ryker?" I call out again, louder this time. "Are you in the washroom?"
Silence is the only response, so I tug the blanket free and wrap it around me like a cocoon.
I trudge through my apartment, ducking my head in the bathroom before I scan the kitchen. His clothes are gone, just as his phone is.
I stalk to the window and look down on the street. The sidewalk is covered in a blanket of thick fluffy snow. It's still falling. The white gold is a treasure to New Yorkers like me who wait for those few brief days a year when nature slows the city.
I stare at the large flakes and the people walking past my building.
I search for my phone finally finding it at the bottom of my purse. I tug it out and wipe the sleep from my eyes before I call his number.
It rings again and again until his voicemail finally picks up. I hang up without leaving a message.
I send him a text message then, asking him where he ran off to. I try to keep the tone light. I type it out three times and delete it twice before I finally send it.
I cradle the phone in my hands while I wait but there's nothing. Minutes pass, first ten and then fifteen. The silence tempts my curiosity.
I open the browser on my phone and type in Ryker's name in the search bar.