Page 150 of Filthy Rich Santas

“To fuck me,” she sobs. “To fill me up. I’m so empty.Please, Tristan.”

I smile, a fierce wave of satisfaction rolling through me as I pull my fingers out, wiping them on her plush ass.

“Not yet.”

She gasps, twisting her torso around to look at me. “What?”

I pull out a final length of rope, then gently push her body flat again.

“And that right there is why. I want you completely restrained before I fuck you. I don’t want you to have anything to do but accept my cock, to let me fuck you until you’re sobbing for release and realize that the only way it will come is with your total submission.”

She makes a beautiful sound of desperation, but doesn’t use her safe word, so that’s a yes.

I slowly start winding the final length of rope around her body, binding her shoulders to the bench and weaving it into a final, beautiful pattern over her torso and back.

Ryder and Beckett move closer, murmuring filthy promises and words of praise as they touch and tease her softly while I finish fully securing her.

By the time I’m done and standing behind her again, fingering that hot, wet pussy while finally freeing my cock from my pants, she’s a desperate, gasping mess.

Completely immobilized.

Completely turned on.

And loving it. Needing it. Needingme.

“Color?” I murmur, guiding my cock to her pussy and rubbing it through her slick slit while I wait for her answer.

“Green,” she whispers. “Green,please.”

“Fuck,” Beckett says, his voice strained as he strokes her hair. “So beautiful. You’re doing so fucking well, baby.”

“Yes,” Ryder murmurs, tracing the intricate pattern of ropes across her upper back. “We’re so proud of you. Look at you, all trussed up and spread wide. Begging for more cock like you just can’t get enough.”

She makes a mewling sound of pure need, straining to arch her back, push against my cock, move in any way at all… and completely unable to do so.

And it finally snaps my control.

I grip her hips and push into her, groaning at the feel of her hot, tight walls closing around me. I can feel her quivering, shaking as she adjusts to the sudden fullness, but I know she wants to be overwhelmed, and I want to overwhelm her, so I don’t stop.

I’m not even sure I fucking can.

I thrust deep, bottoming out and grinding into her lush, welcoming body with a curse.

“Yes,” she pants. “Oh god, fuck me. Please keep fucking me.”

I drive into her, over and over, loving the way she looks like this, bound in my ropes and spread out like an offering. But what I love even more is the way she moans and pleads for me to keep going, the way her pussy clenches around my shaft, the way her breath comes in ragged gasps and her body writhes, desperate to move, to take, to get more of what I’m giving her.

I love having her at my mercy, and knowing I’m giving her exactly what she needs.

I slide my hand between her thighs, finding her clit, and she screams.

“That’s it,” I groan, fucking her hard. “Let me hear how good it feels. Show me what a good girl you are. Beg for my cum. Beg me to fill you up too, just like Ryder and Beckett did.”

“Yes, please,” she pants, her body trembling as I drive into it, over and over, my own arousal racing so fast toward release that it’s making me a little crazy. “I need it.”

“Then come,” I demand. “Come on my cock, freckles. Let me feel it. Milk the cum right out of me. Right the fuck now.”

“Oh, god,” she gasps, and then her body seizes up, her pussy clamping down on my shaft as a wail escapes her, her release rocking her so hard that it almost takes me with her.

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