Page 153 of Filthy Rich Santas

“Fuck yeah, you are,” Beckett says, his voice a guttural rumble.

“How many of those people out there do you think are getting off right now?” Ryder asks, his voice rough, his hand stroking his cock with slow, steady pulls. “How many are touching themselves while they watch you getting fucked?”

I shiver, the thought pushing me closer to the edge, until I’m not sure if this is an orgasm or something even more intense.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Tristan groans, his fingers digging into my hips as my back tries to arch, forcing me against the ropes.

“Show them how incredible you look when you come,” Beckett demands. “Come all over Tristan’s cock while they all watch from out there, wishing it was them.”

“Oh god,” I moan. “I… I don’t think I can.”

“You can,” Ryder insists as Tristan slams into me again, almost making me believe it.

“Help her,” Tristan rasps. “Touch her. Get her there.”

Ryder’s grin is wicked as he comes closer, his hand going to my face as he leans down to kiss me. Then he gives the ropes binding my torso to the bench a single tug, and they fall away.

“Quick-release knot,” he says when I gasp, my back arching.

Ryder instantly takes advantage, sliding his hands under me to toy with my nipples.

“Oh god,” I gasp. They’re still sensitive from the clamps, and pleasure races down to my core as he pinches and tugs, rolling them between his fingers while Tristan keeps fucking me.

“That’s it,” Beckett rumbles, running his hand down my side and squeezing my ass. “Take it all, baby. Take him so fucking deep. Take him like everyone out there is dreaming of with you. Do you know how fucking jealous they are right now?”

Tristan pulls me upright, my knees resting on padded supports at the base of the bench and my arms still bound behind me as he holds me there and fucks into me hard.

“They can dream of it,” he grunts, “but that’s as far as it goes. Dreaming and looking. No one else fucks you. No one else touches you. Only us.”

“You heard him,” Beckett growls, his thick fingers playing over my clit. “Now say it.”

“Only… only you. Only the three of you.”

“Good girl,” Beckett says, giving my clit piercing a tug as Tristan hits my g-spot.

I cry out, overwhelmed, and Ryder swings a leg over the bench so he’s facing me, then grabs my face and kisses me again, swallowing my moans as his tongue teases mine.

I’m surrounded by them, and the possessive way they’re handling me is pushing me toward the edge even faster.

“Oh, god,” I whimper when Ryder breaks the kiss and lifts my breasts in his hands, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth while he teases the other with his fingers.

It’s too much. As Beckett keeps stroking my clit and Tristan keeps fucking me, the sound becomes a high-pitched, keening wail, and the pleasure suddenly explodes into an orgasm that feels like a genuine out of body experience.

Subspace, a distant part of my mind whispers as my head falls back on Tristan’s shoulder, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through me, each one taking me higher, until I’m floating in a sea of bliss that goes on and on and on.

Tristan swears, his hands tightening on my body and his hips stuttering as if he’s finally losing his control. Then he’s coming too, his cock pulsing and his body shuddering against mine as his release floods into me, filling me up, just the way he promised he would.

I genuinely don’t know how long I float. I’ve brushed against the edge of subspace since starting to explore kink with these three, but I’ve never let go as completely like that before. I’ve never felt anything like it.

I finally start to come down from it as they carefully untie me, each one of them kissing me gently, touching and soothing me, as they hold me and pass me between them.

“Drink, baby,” Beckett rumbles gently, holding a water bottle to my lips.

I do, the cool liquid soothing my throat.

“That’s it,” Ryder murmurs. “You did so well, love.”

“Mmm,” I hum, not sure I can find words just yet.

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