Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 56624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I don’t care.
And her body’s still moving, slow circles and teasing friction—keeping me at the edge.
Her hands drag up my chest, into my hair. Then her mouth dips to my ear. “I thought about this,” she whispers. “Back when we were younger. Sitting across from you at that awful family dinner…”
My pulse stutters.
“I thought about riding you like this. What your hands would feel like. What your voice would sound like in the dark. If it was just the two of us…”
“Emma,” I growl. My grip tightens on her hips. “You’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me.”
She rolls her hips harder, and my cock strains against my jeans. “Then die,” she whispers, teasing, “but die happy.”
The music plays behind us, their voices merging. Ours becomes one.
I chuckle low. She giggles as the fire crackles, the storm howling just beyond the window. Snow slams against the glass.
And in this room? There’s only her… grinding against me like she owns me. Tasting like danger… tasting like Christmas.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emma
The song ends, but I’m still moving, half here with him and half bogged down by the memory of a younger version of me that would’ve died a thousand deaths rather than admit I liked him.
God, not liked. Loved.
His hands grip my hips, grounding me. It’s not hunger, but starvation. Deprivation. Like I’m the first meal he’s had in months, and he’s not sure whether to savor or devour.
“On your knees,” he says, his voice low. No hesitation.
My pulse stutters, but I go. Slowly and deliberately, I climb off his lap onto the floor. The wood is cold under my bare knees. My thighs are still slick from riding him through two verses and a chorus.
His eyes follow me down like a wolf watching its prey lie still. My heart hammers in my throat, and I swallow hard against rising emotion.
I want this. I want him like this, dark and dominant and barely holding it together.
But I need the words. I need to say it.
“You can do anything to me,” I whisper. “You know that, right?” My pulse races because I’ve just given him the green light. And maybe that’s why he doesn’t scare me—because he wants all of me, not just a body to come home to and forget.
He sees the parts no one stayed for.
His jaw tenses. One heartbeat passes, then two. His eyes darken as he stands, walks to the mantle, and pulls down one of the thick red velvet ribbons wrapped around the pine garland, soft and silky. I watch as he wraps it around his large hand, thick veins standing out, his fingers rough and calloused. Very strong, very capable hands.
Uh-oh.
“Wrists,” he says, and I raise them without a word.
He ties me carefully, not too tight, not too loose. Just a loop between my wrists like a tether.
I’m breathing fast now. My skin’s electric. The fire crackles behind me, but I feel like I’m the one burning.
“Open your mouth.”
And I do—mouth wide, tongue out, kneeling and bound, my eyes locked on his. My pulse is racing because I know exactly what he’s going to do.
He pushes down his waistband and fists his cock lazily. Like he has all the time in the world, and I’m just going to stay here, panting and naked like a little slut, until he decides I’ve earned it.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, sliding yet one more coupon into my hands.
We both know our time here is coming to a close. He’s cashing this one in.
“Say it, Emma.”
“I want it,” I whisper. “I want you.”
Not just tonight, not just like this.
He slides one hand into my hair, tightening just enough to make me gasp.
“Yes,” he says, his voice dark and soft. “You want this. You want to be used. Tied up. Owned. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I nod, trembling. “Yes.”
His cock is thick and hard, flushed deep red. My mouth waters.
And when he finally slides it past my lips, slow and possessive, I moan like I’m the one getting fucked.
His cock fills my mouth slowly, deliberately. No rush. No mercy either. He watches every second—jaw tight, eyes hooded, his hand fisted in my hair like he’s holding himself back from something worse.
And god, I want that.
He rocks in deeper. I gag once, but I breathe in through my nose and don’t pull back. I fucking take it, take what I want.
“Christ, look at you,” he grits out. “On your knees, love. Wrapped in Christmas ribbon. Mouth full of cock.”
I moan around him. The vibration makes him curse. I cup his balls and squeeze, stroking his cock as I work him over with my tongue.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Fuck, baby, that’s it, just like that.”
His hips jerk forward, faster now. He’s using me, just like I wanted—like I asked for—fucking my mouth, and I’m on fire.
The tie burns a little against my wrists when I shift. But I like the sting… like that it proves I’m his now, kneeling in front of the fire like some twisted holiday sacrifice.