And now for a little bit of Blisse, from Proving Sata exists in A Blisse Christmas Collection.
A collection of sweet,sensual and hot stories from the queen of festivities, Victoria Blisse. A sexy indulgence for you to enjoy this yuletide with all the sights, scents and tastes of Christmas without the calories and hard work. Snuggle up and relax into stories of sleigh rides, snowy interludes and Christmas couplings. A truly festive treat just for you.
“No problem. I’ll get those down for you.” I love the way his mellow words smooth into each other. I also like the way his shirt rides up as he stands on tip-toe, so that he exposes just a little triangle of soft camel-coloured skin, dappled with the faintest line of dark brown hair. I want to kiss that spot, so much so I lick my lips in preparation but with a shake of my head I pull myself out of my fantasy.
“Okay, first box. Gees, what have you got in here?” He lets the box down on to the bed, and straightens up again with a slight wince.
“That must be the nativity and candles and things. They’re pretty heavy. The other two should be much lighter, I promise.” He stretches up again and my eyes fix on his stomach. Yes, I am a dirty old letch. I feel like one, anyway. Taking advantage of such a cute, handsome guy without his permission. Although I suppose it’s not too bad when he doesn’t even realise I’m doing it.
“Oh, yes. This one’s much lighter.”
I jolt my gaze up from his midriff and take the proffered box from his hands with an apologetic smile. If he caught me staring, he doesn’t pull me up on it. “I’ll take the two light ones down, if you take the heavy one.”
“Are you sure you can manage?”
“Sure. One’s tinsel and lights, the other baubles. I’ll get them down, no probs. Oh, can you grab the tree, too? Better take that with us.”
“Would be hard to decorate without it.” He chuckles. I love that sound; it makes my stomach bubble with excitement. He pulls down the next box, placing it on top of the other. His hands gently sweep over mine as he makes sure the top box is balanced. I’m sure he lingers for a while, the heat of his touch creeping up my arm and suffusing my whole body. One touch and I’m molten inside. I can’t begin to imagine what more would do to me.
“I’m going down,” I say without thinking.
“Now that would be impressive with your hands full.” Jonathan’s sweet chuckle takes on a dirtier edge.
“Don’t twist my words, rude boy. Will you grab the tree?”
“Sure, I’ll follow your lead.”
I try really hard not to let that led to dirty daydreams, but it’s hard not to imagine him down on his knees before me, pleasuring me. As I’m consumed with the effort of not thinking dirty, I’m startled by a pinch, firm and meaningful, to my buttocks. I yelp and start, shaking the boxes in my hands.
“Wakey wakey,” Jonathan exclaims, laughter barely concealed behind his words. “There’s a line forming here.” “All right, all right,” I gasp, “I was just waiting for you.” I’m such a bad liar, but as he can’t see my face, I’m hoping he won’t pick up on my untruth.
A hand stroke and an arse pinch aren’t conclusive proof of reciprocal lust but I do feel a little encouraged as I carefully walk downstairs, carrying the boxes before me.