A Puppy for Christmas: On the Secretary's Christmas List / The Patter of Paws at Christmas / The Soldier, the Puppy and Me

Jackson’s hands slid down over the tops of her breasts, lightly skimming the sensitised tips before cupping the firm rounds beneath, gently squeezing and massaging their soft weight.

Bree’s breath caught in her throat as the soft pads of his thumbs moved back and forth across the hardened peaks of her breasts. Her hands moved up to clasp his forearms—not to push him away, but to press him closer still.

‘Oh, God …’ she groaned weakly as Jackson gently squeezed those throbbing nipples between finger and thumb.

Her breasts quickly rose and fell as Jackson increased the pressure on her nipples. Her eyelashes fluttered weakly as she tried to raise the lids and couldn’t. The pleasure of Jackson’s caresses was all she could feel or think about.

Bree moaned protestingly when those hands left her breasts, then gasped when cool air hit her feverish skin as Jackson lifted her sweater up over her breasts, baring them to the heat of his palms as he plucked at her throbbing nipples.

She writhed restlessly on the sofa, desperately aware of that uncomfortable throb between her legs as she felt excitement building. She needed—oh, God—she needed—

‘Tell me what you need, Bree,’ Jackson encouraged, moving from behind the sofa to nudge Bree’s legs apart. He knelt between them, lowering his mouth to her breast hungrily before raising his head to look down at those full rose-tipped orbs. ‘Tell me, Bree!’

One of his hands cupped her breast, caressing, squeezing her swollen nipple, as he slowly kissed his way down her abdomen to her navel. His other hand moved purposefully to the fastening of her jeans, sliding the zip slowly downwards until he could see the white lace of her panties.

‘Bree …?’ His voice was a muffled rasp: the sight and scent of her arousal had only deepened the aching throb of his shaft.

‘Touch me, Jackson!’ she gasped achingly. ‘For pity’s sake, touch me!’

‘I am touching you, Bree.’ He added pressure as he squeezed her breast.

‘Lower, Jackson …!’ Her thighs moved restlessly, invitingly. ‘I need …!’

She tasted so damned good, and her skin was like silk to the touch as Jackson’s mouth moved lower still, almost tasting Bree’s arousal as he kissed her through those white lace panties. He heard her gasp as his tongue found and gently stroked the crux of the heat raging through her. His hands once again moved up to cup and caress her breasts, tugging at the swollen nipples as Bree stretched against him in a silent plea, and he took the throb of her against his tongue as evidence that Bree was fast approaching her climax.

‘Harder, Jackson!’ Bree sobbed in desperation, her fingers entangled in the thickness of Jackson’s hair as she held him against her and arched into the rhythmic caress of his tongue. ‘Please!’

She cried out in protest as his mouth left her to latch onto her breast, sucking hard as he shifted to the side, pushing her jeans and panties down and throwing them aside before pulling her further down the sofa and parting her legs. Bree was completely open to him as his lips claimed hers and his tongue plunged into the heat of her mouth, as he thrust first one finger inside her and then another, thrusting again and again, whilst caressing her swollen nipple with his other hand, taking her higher and higher towards release.

Bree wrenched her mouth from Jackson’s, whipping her head from side to side as her first ever orgasm hit her with a force that completely took her breath away. Pleasure unlike anything Bree had ever experienced claimed her in wave after earth-shattering wave.

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