Let Your Hearts Be Light (Christmas Daddies, #1)

by Fae Quin

when I bent closer I caught the scent of snickerdoodles wafting from his skin like he was made out cookies himself. I wondered if I licked him if I’d taste sugar. God, and now my dick was hard.

His hair was honey, his skin was spun sugar, and I couldn’t help but crave him in a way that was so terrifying I had no idea what to do with it.

If I looked at him again I was sure I would do something stupid, like drag him into my lap, tear his sweater in half, and torture his sweet little nipples till he had something real to cry about.

I bet he’d cry. So fucking pretty— So ready for me. Obedient. Sweet. My pretty little sweetheart.

I kissed him again. Slipping my tongue inside his mouth felt like coming home. He didn’t push me away, he just sucked eagerly, pliant—obedient. Good little pet.

“I wonder if this part of you is as greedy as your pretty cock.” One of Paxton’s hands yanked my cheeks open, the cool air meeting my fluttering hole as I pressed back toward his face, suddenly eager for a taste of something I’d never had before.

he growled, giving my hole what I could only describe as a filthy suck. He played with me, teased me, toyed with me till I was nothing but a sobbing mess.

I wanted to savor him, taste his salty-sweet pleasure. I wanted to trail my lips down the vein that throbbed on the underside of his cock, I wanted to suck on his soft sac till he was groaning and whimpering above me. I wanted him to smother me till all I could breathe was his sweat and the scent of his pleasure.

He groaned, his hand sliding up to grasp in my hair. He gave it a gentle but slightly painful tug that made my hole clench up and my toes curl as he bent down to whisper, “Such a naughty little thing, aren’t you?”

He panted at me, a king atop his folded up dog bed, brown eyes glistening with intelligence. “You have short legs,” I pointed out and he just woofed in reply.

“How far do you want to go?” Paxton asked, his honeyed eyes blown black with lust. His tongue flickered out to wet his lips and I had to force myself to hold still for fear that I would lose control and begin begging like the slut he made me whenever he was near. “Fuck me,” I breathed, more than a little eager.

I groaned at the thought of him wanting something inside him just as much as I wanted to be inside him. Needy little slut. “Arch your back for me, baby.”

Every time he sunk down on my hand he made this punched out little sound—broken and wet—like it felt so good he couldn’t help but cry.

I growled, an animalistic desire to claim, mark, bite roaring up inside me as I watched his pink little hole part for the thick head of my cock.

“Anything else…?” Paxton rubbed up behind my ears and I had to stop myself from purring. “Sore?” Oh. My hole gave a sympathetic twitch and I whined, unable to help the needy noise as it left my lips. If I hadn’t been paying close attention I probably would’ve missed the way Paxton inhaled sharply in response. His pupils dilated. His lips parted as he rumbled out an answering groan.

In some ways it was almost like I was teaching him what it felt like to lean on someone else. Which made me incredibly happy—considering the fact that lately it seemed all I did was search for his steady presence like a compass drawn north.

Paxton looked at me like I was spun from gold. It was frightening. Amazing. Wonderful.

My eyes burned a little as I realized just how far this man would go to make me happy. He supported me—in more than just my lowest moments. He was kind, fair. Sweet. His affection was quiet as a winter morning but warm enough to burn when you knew where to look.

“Let him look,” he seemed to decide after a moment. “Let him look because we both know who’s going to be the person that takes you up those stairs and fucks that little ass of yours.” Paxton’s eyes were dark with lust and I whined, thrusting forward so that my hard cock could grind up against his thighs.

He blinked those gorgeous dark lashes at me as he shifted so he could cup my face in one large scratchy palm. His thumb ran reverently over my bottom lip, tracing it like he was cataloging my features, so he would never forget them. “I can’t promise everything will go right. That’s not in my power. But I can promise you—whatever happens—I’m gonna be right by your side.”

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Paxton said softly. “But I’m the kinda guy who doesn’t give up when he finds something he wants.” I kissed his thumb again. “I want you, Baxter. I want you when you’re sad, when you’re happy, when you’re worried, when you’re old and gray and covered in wrinkles.”

We picked out the brightest, most obnoxious, yellow mixer in the history of the universe. And that sweet little girl beamed at me like I’d hung the fucking moon. I realized then that it didn’t matter that I’d just met her. Didn’t matter at all. She was mine.

He was sugar cookies, hot cocoa, and Christmas mornings. Sunbeams, summer days, and laughter. Everything I’d ever wanted—and I wasn’t about to fuck it up.

The only thing that would make this better was if I had him decorated in nothing but red ribbon. A gift for me to unwrap. My own fucking Christmas present. The one I’d been waiting for all my life.

He was so sensitive there—all long-limbed debauchery as he spread his legs wide and shoved his needy ass toward my fingers. “You’re so sexy,” I hummed, my dick flexing as I listened to the high-pitched whine that left Baxter’s lips. “Show me that little hole, I wanna see where you want me.”

“You’re so hard for me, baby,” I purred, my hips grinding deep. “Look at that needy little cock. So pink. So sweet.”

He was my constant. The moon that rose every night. The crisp taste of snow in the air before the storm ever hit. He was warm hugs, hot cocoa, and wood shavings.