Page 64 of Filthy Rich Santas

One that makes me blush.

“Um, you decide.”

Beckett’s eyes flare with heat and Ryder’s grin turns absolutely wicked, but Tristan just chuckles.

“I am deciding,” he says. “We’re supposed to help you figure out what you like, so you have to tell us what you want. Don’t be shy. You already told us that you’re green for more, but that’s not good enough. Not when it comes to kink. Not when we haven’t already negotiated your limits for this scene.”

I lick my lips. “This, um, this is a scene? It’s not real?”

“Scenes are real,” Beckett says in that gruff voice of his. “They’re agreed upon interactions where everyone gets what they need.”

“Which brings us back to communication.” Tristan’s thumbs brush over my nipples, sending a cascade of desire through me. “Good kink requires good communication. Being clear about what everyone involved actually wants isn’t just the best way to get it. It’s the only way. That’s when we have a green light.”

He rolls my nipples, then pinches them, and I arch up with a moan.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Ryder grunts, squeezing his cock.

“So, are you ready to tell us now?” Tristan asks. “What is it you want right now?”

“I want to go down on you,” I admit, feeling a little emboldened now that he’s spelled it out for me.

Tristan’s hands drop to my hips, and he pulls me down as he thrusts up against me. “You’re going to have to be more specific with that ‘you,’ freckles. There are three of us here to choose from.”

I lock eyes with Beckett. “I mean you.”

He groans so softly I would have missed it if I wasn’t staring at him, but I’m still feeling greedy, and Tristan told me I needed to communicate my wants and needs clearly, so I look at Ryder, my pussy clenching as I whisper, “And you.” Then I twist around to face Tristan. “And you.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, fisting my hair and grinding against my ass. “Greedy girl.”

“Yes.”

“Our favorite kind.” Ryder starts to stroke himself again. “You gonna start with Tristan, love?”

“You decide,” I repeat, because thatiswhat I want.

Tristan’s eyes flare. “Then get on your knees like a good girl,” he says, spreading his thighs and pushing me to my feet.

My heart starts to race as I stand up. Tristan keeps ahold of my robe as I do, and it slips off my shoulders, leaving me naked.

I inhale slowly, feeling both vulnerable and powerful with all three mens’ eyes on me, and when Tristan smacks my ass, sending a bolt of lust straight to my core, my arousal drips down my thighs.

But then a wave of self-consciousness washes over me.

The last person I was completely naked in front of was Wade, and when memories of some of the comments he used to make about how curvy I am start to intrude, I instinctively move my hands in front of my body, trying to cover up a little.

Beckett’s voice stops me. “No.”

The command in his tone is undeniable, and I immediately drop my hands.

“That’s it, love,” Ryder murmurs. “We want to see you. Still green.”

“Still green,” I whisper, mustering my courage as their eyes roam over me.

I turn and face Tristan, who’s rubbing the thick bulge of his cock through his pants as he leans back, watching me with hooded eyes.

He dips his chin toward the floor, a reminder that he told me to kneel, and I drop down and reach for his zipper, then hesitate. I’m not even sure what I’m waiting for until Tristan speaks again, giving me permission.

“Take me out,” he rasps. “I’ve been craving you all fucking day. Thinking about what you looked like in my bed this morning. Remembering those sexy noises you made.”

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