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She leans her head back, exposing more of her neck to me, and I drag my tongue from the hollow of her throat to the ticklish spot behind her ear. What starts as a breath turns to a loud moan. Too loud, I know, but I have to force myself to stop anyway. We really shouldn’t be doing this here.

“What if the kids wake up?”

“We’ll hear them. Everything creaks in this house.” She’s not wrong.

“We might make a mess of the couch.”

Scarlett peers down at the faded gray fabric and shrugs. “I’ve hated this couch ever since D—” She stops, wincing.

I know what she was going to say, but I never want her to censor herself around me. “Finish the sentence, Scar,” I murmur, cupping her chin.

“Since your dad picked it out,” she whispers.

I let out a ragged breath. It’s so hard to imagine my dad in this house; I don’t associate him with anything in here. But he and Scarlett furnished this house with the intent of it being their family home—or Scarlett did, anyway.

“How much will you judge me if I say that knowing my dad picked the couch just makes me want to make you come harder than he ever could, right here, even more?”

Scarlett gasps, and I think I’ve gone too far, until her pupils flare. She reaches for my face and presses her thumb to my lips. I draw it between my teeth, drawing a whimper from her. “To be clear, he never once made me feel as good as you do just by holding my hand. But I’m not judging. Stake your claim, Kill. I’m all yours.”

God. I don’t think I’ve ever heard something so fucking perfect.

I kiss her until we’re both breathless, and my voice is ragged when I ask, “You think you can stay quiet for me, love?”

“Definitely not. But I’m sure,” she begins, whispering the words against my lips, “you can find a way to keep me quiet.”

Fuck.

My heart is thunder in my chest, pounding so hard that I can feel it in my fingertips. “You want me to make you?”

Scarlett nods, pulling her lip between her teeth. I like this side of her—bold, demanding. Mine.

I sit back on my knees and survey her, considering. “I could cover your mouth with my hand, I suppose,” I muse. “Or …”

A better idea pops into my mind, and once it does … it’s all I can think about.

Scarlett narrows her eyes in confusion as I tug the Santa hat from my head.

I brush her lips with my finger. “Open up, love.”

Her jaw drops, more out of surprise than anything else, I think. But I’ll take it. I bring the hat to her mouth and pause, raising a brow in question.

She doesn’t even hesitate before answering. “Yes. God, yes.”

“Snap your fingers or slap me if you want to stop at any point, okay?”

Scarlett nods, and I press the Santa hat between her lips. She bites down on the velvet, eyeing me hungrily as I stand up and push my sweatpants and boxers down. She lifts her hips, so I can slide her leggings down, and pulls her tank top over her head before I get the chance, leaving her in nothing but a smooth beige bra and lace underwear the color of a pine tree. I curse, sinking to my knees to tug them off with my teeth.

Scarlett balls her hands into fists, her back arching as I kiss my way up her inner thighs. I can’t stop myself from swirling my tongue in a circle on her upper thigh, drawing her skin between my lips until her legs wrap around my back. When I pull away, there’s a red mark on her where no one but me can see. I brush my lips over it, kissing it gently, and trying not to come on the spot at the tangible proof that I’m all over her as much as she’s all over me.

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, love,” I murmur against her skin. “You have no idea.”

She can’t reply, but she brushes her fingers through my hair, looking at me with a dazed expression.

I drag my tongue over her pussy, flicking the tip just once against her clit. Scarlett presses her head against the pillows, groaning through the Santa hat. It’s still too loud, but it’s music to my ears. She knots her hand in my hair as I drink her in, consuming her, and relishing every sharp tug against my scalp.

Her cries escalate; the hat isn’t going to cut it at this rate. I grab a pillow and pass it to her.

“I’m going to muffle those cries with my lips when I’m inside you, but I need to feel you come on my tongue first. Can you do that for me, baby?” My voice is dripping with desire, rough and gravelly.