Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
When I smooth my hands around to her ass, she gasps and threads her fingers through my hair. I massage her curves, then stand, my hand still on her ass when I find her lips again.
“I want you now.” She moans between kisses. “I want you to take me.”
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” I groan, slipping my hands between her legs and rubbing at her Christmas pantyhose.
When I feel what she’s done, I let out a ragged breath. There’s nothing separating my hand from her aching, needy pussy except the thin material.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” I snarl.
She pouts at me. Shakes her head with that addictive confidence in her eyes. “Nope. Right before we left Mom and Dad’s, I went to the bathroom and took them off. Do you like it?”
I rub between her legs, groaning as I feel wetness seeping into her pantyhose and over my hand. My cock aches, twitching like a wild thing in my pants.
She sinks her fingernails into my side, leans up, and whispers in my ear. “I want you to tear a hole in the fabric and fuck me by the tree.”
I almost explode when I hear the sassy confidence in her voice. Turning, I quickly close the curtains.
I take her hips, guide her to the couch next to the tall, sparkling Christmas tree. Kneel and glide my hands up her legs, then savagely tear.
Rip.
The green pantyhose come apart. I stare at her glistening, wet slit. Her hole fluttering, ready for me. Always fucking ready for me.
When I move my face forward, she moans, her legs twitching.
“Fuck me, Damian.”
“Has my perfect Snowflake been frustrated all damn day?” I growl.
She bites her lip, nodding up at me.
I stand, tear at my pants and my briefs. My cock springs free. Precome clings to my end, as bright as our future. My thick steel bounces as I lay my body against hers, reach down, grip my length, and guide my hungry tip to her entrance.
She arches her back when I glide into her. Her tunnel grips me instantly. When she grips my arm, letting out a moan, we both look at her hand. At the diamond glittering on her finger.
She tilts her hips, angling just so.
She knows how to bring the Beast out of me. Even now.
I cradle her back and rock my hips. She matches my motion, gliding her searing wetness down my shaft. My release rushes forward. But I’ll never let myself go before I feel her clenching with ecstasy around me.
She sinks her fingernails into me. Bucks her hips wildly.
Her eyes are wide and wild as she meets my gaze.
“Oh—fuck…”
“Already?” I growl, finding it more and more difficult to hold back the explosion trying to bust out of me.
“My—husband.” She gasps. “My—baby’s—father…”
I press my body against hers. Feel her teeth bite through my shirt and mark me.
When she comes, her whole body goes tight. She hugs herself to me. Her passage milking the fuck out of cock, but still, I wait.
I hold until I feel the flutters of her aftershocks making her quiver. The tell-tale quieting of her moans.
I lean back and let go. Watch her as I fuck her hard and fast. The couch almost tips over, colliding with the tree, ornaments tinkling together as I finally fall over the edge.
A roar escapes me as I collapse atop her, wave after wave of hot release pumping out of me and into the only place it belongs.
Inside the woman who saved me. From myself.
“I love you so goddamn much,” I groan, finding her lips.
“I love you too,” she whimpers. Then she laughs with delight. “Are you serious?”
My manhood has started to grow hard again. Already. Even after a mind-blowing release, being this close to her, smelling her, feeling her, makes me savage.
“What position does the Beast want for Christmas, hmm?”
I slip out, my cock solid, slick with her juices and mine combined. I grab her hips and bend her over.
Staring down at her round, voluptuous ass.
I have to admit…
I’m starting to love the holidays.
EPILOGUE
CELINE
Seven Years Later
Ilook up from my snowman, almost done, at Julian and Damian as they hide behind a mound of snow, waiting for their chance to strike. Tommy–named after my father–and Lila creep along the path, snowballs in their hands.
Tommy raises his eyebrow at me, and I giggle, then point to where Damian and Julian are hiding. Tommy nudges his little sister, and she leans against him. They whisper amongst each other, which makes the air fog with their breath: planning their attack.
I add the finishing touches to my snowman as I wait for the show to begin.
We first stayed out here almost ten years ago, when I didn’t know if my husband and my brother were going to return… and, if they did, if Julian would ever give us his blessing.