Page 42 of Filthy Rich Santas

“Please,” I gasp out, not sure what I’m asking for until Tristan gives it to me.

With a groan that seems to come from somewhere deep inside him, he knocks my hand away and drags his rough fingers through my slick folds, then slips the tip of his finger into my piercing and tugs.

I tumble over the edge, crying out his name as the second orgasm hits me like a tsunami.

“Fuck,” he grunts as I ride it out.

He keeps stroking himself hard, and a moment later, thick cum splashes over my stomach as he follows me over the edge, leaning over me as he milks out every drop.

10

LANA

“Oh fuck,”I pant, goosebumps springing up over my skin. If I thought Tristan was hot before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks when he loses that calm control he always holds on to so tightly.

His eyes bore into mine as I stare up at him, breathless as I watch him wring out the last of his orgasm.

I’ve fantasized about things like this, but my imagination fell short. He hardly touched me just now, and yet this is the single hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

I reach for him, needing more.

I need to taste him. Kiss him. Feel him.

The heat in his eyes warms into something softer as he leans in—but just before our lips touch, he freezes.

“Tristan?”

He turns his head to kiss my palm, but then pulls back, regret in his eyes.

I swallow, not liking that look on his face at all. It’s as if, now that the heat of the moment has passed, he’s come to his senses. Realized what he just did, and who he did it with.

Remembered that I’m still Caleb’s little sister.

He gets off the bed before I can think of what to say, and I raise myself up on my elbows, watching as he crosses over to the small bathroom without a word.

He comes back with a towel, steaming from the warm water he obviously wetted it with.

“You should clean up,” he says, holding it out to me.

I blink but don’t take it from him. My emotions are getting whiplash right now.

After a moment, he sighs softly and sits on the bed next to me, starting to clean the cum off my stomach himself.

I swallow, something twisting in my gut. I’m lying here naked, and what he’s doing is definitely intimate, but everything has changed from the passion we shared a few minutes ago.

The way he’s touching me now feels clinical and removed, and I hate it.

I’m also not willing to be some passive little thing who lets someone else decide things for me anymore. He doesn’t get to share that kind of moment with me and then just shut down without a word.

I grab his hand as he finishes, not letting him pull away again. “What’s wrong?”

He stares at me for so long that I actually think he might try to get away without answering at all. But then he sighs, pulling out of my hold and standing up again.

“It was a mistake. We shouldn’t have done that.”

It’s not exactly a surprise to hear with the way he’s acting, but even if I half expected it, it still hurts. Maybe even more so because I never truly expected anything like this to happen between us in the first place, so when it did…

I swallow hard, disappointment spreading through my body and tainting the afterglow.

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