Page 113 of Filthy Rich Santas

My mind blanks, sparks dancing over my skin. “I… I don’t know. I mean, I’m not trying to avoid the question, I just… I can’t think. What doyoulike?”

His gaze sharpens. “Total control.”

My clit throbs. “Yes.”

He releases my scalp, loosely circling my throat with his hand instead. “Choking.”

I moan, leaning into the slight pressure.

He tightens his hand, not enough to restrict my breathing, but enough that I feel owned.

“I like edging needy submissives. Spanking them. Degrading them. I like obedience, and respect, and leaving my marks on what’s mine.”

My breath hitches in my throat. “Marks?” I whisper.

He holds me in place, hand around my throat, and holds my gaze as he squeezes my ass, forcing me to squirm on top of his cock.

“That’s right, little menace. I want to see you covered in my handprints and bruises and cum. I want free use of your holes, however I want, for however long I want. I want your pleasure to belong to me, to grant or deny as I see fit. And I want you on your knees tonight, worshiping my cock until I’m satisfied.”

“Yes,” I whisper, my clit throbbing. I grind down on him. “Yes,please.”

He tightens his hand like it’s a collar.

“What are you saying yes to?” he asks. “I need you to be clear.”

“All of it.” A little voice of sanity works its way through the haze of my arousal, reminding me not to bite off more than I can chew, so I add, “At least, I think so. I’m not sure if I’d like a lot of pain. I don’t think it’s a limit. Um, not a hard limit. Is that what it’s called?”

He smiles at me. “Yes.”

“Maybe a soft one? Something to try, but… but I don’t know if I’ll enjoy it or not.”

“Good girl. Thank you for telling me. Anything else?”

“No. I mean, yes. Yes to trying everything you said.Please. I just want to…”

I’m not sure what to say. Submit? Belong to him? Know what it feels like to be owned by someone who makes me feel cherished?

Beckett starts rubbing my ass again. “You want to be mine.”

“Yes.”

He frowns, his hand going still for a moment, then wipes the expression from his face as he adds, “For tonight.”

“Yes.”

“And I think we all know that you enjoy a little exhibitionism,” he says with a tiny quirk of his lips. “But just so I know I have your full consent?—”

“And because it’s hot as fuck,” Ryder murmurs, as if he already knows where Beckett is going with this.

Beckett smirks. “And because it’s hot as fuck,” he repeats in that deep voice that’s pure sex. “You’d like to do a scene with me in front of these two, isn’t that right? You want Tristan and Ryder to see you on your knees for me? To watch as I make you choke on my cock?”

A full body shudder goes through me, my panties flooding as he says it.

“I… I think you’re right.” I flush with a combination of embarrassment and excitement. “Exhibitionismisone of my kinks. So, yes. I want, um, I want Tristan and Ryder to watch us.”

Tristan groans, and Ryder mutters a low, “Fuck.”

I can hear both of them shuffling a little, the soft rustle of cloth as if one or both of them is adjusting themselves, but I can’t look away from Beckett, the intensity of his gaze pinning me in place just as firmly as his grip on me does.

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