We do go to Target, and let me tell you, Target with Luke is a lot of fun. I ask him if we can get a tree and he looks a little bewildered by the request but agrees. And when I mention while we look at the pre-lit trees in Target that I've never had a real tree because my grandfather is allergic to them, Luke looks at me for a moment, his gaze moving across my face like he's imagining me as a child, and then pulls out his phone and makes a call. By the time we finish shopping there's a ten-foot balsam fir tree set up and strung with lights in Luke's great room.

He tells me to pick out "whatever trees need," but I refuse, only agreeing to pick the tree decor once he admits that he's partial to blue and that the elf ornaments are funny. Which leads to my discovery that Luke has never seen the movie Elf.

While Luke goes to locate a DVD of Elf I scour the seasonal department picking all the blue ornaments and elves that I think Luke will like. He comes back with an armful of stuff and dumps it in the cart like a kid with a black American Express card. Then he smacks my ass right in the middle of the aisle and asks what else we can buy at Target.

I laugh and ask how he gets food and paper towels without ever shopping and he tells me that Mrs. Geiger takes care of all of that. I look at him blankly, having no idea who Mrs. Geiger is, until he informs me that he has a housekeeper who stops in during the week. Apparently she does everything. Shopping, laundry, dry-cleaning runs, cleaning, changing sheets, emptying the dishwasher. Everything. Rich people are weird.

We go back to Luke's with bags of stuff, and looking at the size of his car, it's a good thing he's had a tree delivered. I don't think the engineers at Mercedes had Christmas trees in mind when they built the S63.

Unpacking the bags is even more fun. We carry all the bags into the kitchen and start unloading, but I keep finding things that aren't ornaments.

"You bought red and white striped elf socks?" I ask, holding them up, confused. They're knee-highs.

"Not for me," he replies. "You like funny socks. And pumpkin. You like pumpkin." He pulls a tube of pumpkin spice lip balm out of a bag. He hands it to me and I put it on then tilt my neck back and raise up on my tiptoes to kiss him. Things escalate pretty quickly after that.

My sweater is off before I even realize what is happening. He tosses it on the granite island and then unzips my jeans and yanks both my jeans and panties to mid-thigh before picking me up and sitting my naked ass on the edge of the island countertop.

He slides my bottoms off the rest of the way until they land in a puddle on the floor that he kicks aside before lowering his own pants only enough to pull out his cock. He strokes the length of himself several times while I watch, itching to reach forward and do that for him. He spreads my legs apart and steps between them, hooking my right thigh in the crook of his left elbow, his right hand still stroking himself. He's staring at the slit between my legs, spreading my lips open with his fingers.

My heart is racing and my breathing hitches. I can feel the heat and pressure building and moisture begins to slick my passage. He steps in closer, my thighs spread obscenely wide, my bare bottom on the edge of the counter. I lean back on my hands and watch as Luke places the head of his penis against me. I suck in a breath, not sure I'm wet enough for him just yet. He's so big and he's always had me dripping for him before entering me.

My apprehension is for naught as he doesn't enter me, but instead starts slapping my open pussy with his cock.

"Oh, God." The sight is too much combined with all the blood pumping through me. Every nerve ending is alive with want. I bite my lip and drop to my elbows, looking at the ceiling.

"No." Luke's voice startles me and I move my gaze to his. "You'll watch."

I blink at him and murmur an agreement before he clarifies, "Eyes here, Sophie," indicating where our bodies are connected. His penis is sliding up and down along my spread lips as he coats himself in my wetness.

I can only nod as I pick my elbows off the counter and return to resting my upper body on my hands, the angle perfect for watching. With my full attention where he wants it, Luke grabs himself and guides the head of his penis to my wet, waiting opening. He sticks the tip in, bare, nothing between us. I feel his gaze move from where he's resting just inside of me to my face. I look up and nod before returning my attention to his cock, sliding inside of me one slow inch at a time.

He slides most of the way out then slams back inside of me and I whimper. Not from pain, but from pure pleasure, watching increasing my hedonistic enjoyment. He slips his right arm under my left knee so now I'm splayed open with both legs dangling over his arms, bouncing as he thrusts into me.

It's so good. So, so good. I want to drop my head back in defeat to the pleasure but Luke is insistent, reminding me every time I look away. He's alternating between watching us and watching me.

"I love those noises you make. I think I could come from nothing more than the sound of your voice when I'm fucking you," Luke says above the slapping of our skin and the incoherent noises I'm indeed making. "When you get close you start chanting my name. 'Luke, Luke, Luke.' I almost blow my load early every time, listening to you, knowing you're close. Knowing I did that to you."

"You do, Luke." I'm breathless and so ready. "You always do."

"I'm going to come inside of you, Sophie." He thrusts, yanking my thigh up, changing the angle slightly. "I'm going to come in you so hard my come will be leaking out of you for the rest of the day."

Listening to him describe it while pistoning in and out of my body pushes me over the edge and I come, my orgasm so intense it hurts when he thrusts back in. He stills then for a moment, buried in me balls deep, before I feel him twitch as he moans his own release. It does feel different, warmer, wetter. It feels so intimate. I mean, sex is always intimate, but this is different. It feels like a compliment, if bodily fluids can be described that way.

He leans forward until our lips touch and then I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer while we kiss. He pulls away as he slides out of me. He's still got both of my legs spread open, hooked over his elbows, and he makes no move to drop them, instead focusing on watching his come leak out of me.

"Fuck, that is hot."

I'd be embarrassed, but he is so into it that it just turns me on more. He finally releases one of my legs only to stick two fingers into me, coating them with his release and then moving them to my clit.

"No, no, I can't," I protest. He can't possibly think he's going to make me come again. I'm still pulsating from the last one.

"You can." He drops my other leg now to unsnap my bra and he bends, taking a nipple in his mouth as he works me with his fingers below. Of course he proves himself right, working another orgasm out of me before we're through.

---

"Luke, you bought Elf on the Shelf?" I ask, holding up the box. I'm still sitting on the countertop. Luke just cleaned me up with a paper towel while I about died of embarrassment. It's a lot messier without a condom. I tried to take the paper towel from him and do it myself but he wouldn't allow it.

"I found it by the DVD's," he replies, as if this explains everything. "It's an elf."

This isn't a tradition I did with my grandparents and I can't imagine Luke did either. "I think this is for little kids," I say, reviewing the box.

Luke shrugs and pulls a menu out of the drawer. "Do you want to order in or go down to Serafina?"

"No!" I blurt out. "Not Serafina."

He looks confused. "You don't like Serafina?"

"I love Serafina," I say, then realize I've painted myself in a corner. I don't want to admit I'm feeling weird about Luke always taking me out to eat at a restaurant that's conveniently located in his lobby. I'm behaving like a brat. We just went to Target in public, it's not like he's hiding me.

He looks at me like I'm going to elaborate. When I don't, he puts the menu away and picks my panties up off the floor and slides them up to mid-thigh, then repeats the motions with my jeans before lifting me off the counter and sliding them the remaining way up. He even zips and buttons me back into my jeans and I gotta admit, watching his huge hands dress me makes me want to rip everything off all over again.

"What’s your favorite Italian restaurant, Sophie?" he asks as he holds my sweater up for me to put my arms through.

"Lombardi's," I reply automatically.

"Okay," he says and slides his keys off the counter. "We'll go to Lombardi's."

"Luke! Lombardi's is forty-five minutes away in Horsham. And it's not your scene, it's very casual." I feel like such an ass. "Serafina's is fine. Let's just eat downstairs."

He pulls me closer. "You don't think I'm casual?"

"Luke, please," I laugh. "You're the least casual person I know."

"Hmm, maybe," he murmurs into my hair. "I don't feel casual about you," he says, kissing the top of my head. "So maybe serious isn't all bad."

What is this guy doing to me?