Page 133 of Filthy Rich Santas

My breath stutters, my arousal already making my panties grow damp. But I can’t resist teasing him a little bit more.

I take another sip of my hot chocolate, letting some of the whipped cream stick to my upper lip, and then meet Beckett’s eyes as I part my legs, giving him full access as I slowly lick it off.

He curses under his breath. “Ryder, take the long route.”

“But we’re almost to the hotel,” Ryder starts to say, before glancing back at us in the rearview mirror. “Oh,” he adds with a smirk. “Gotcha.”

“I need to teach our girl a lesson,” Beckett growls, his fingers curling against me.

A thrill shoots through me that goes beyond the pleasure of feeling his touch. My head knows he’s only claiming me that way in the heat of the moment, but my heart stutters anyway, loving the way he called metheirs.

“Color?” he asks, his eyes burning into me.

“Green, sir.”

The honorific slips out so naturally I don’t even have to think about it.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, taking the paper cup out of my hands and then handing both his and mine to Tristan in the front seat. Then he leans over me and releases my seat belt. “Take your shoes off.”

It’s not a request. It’s a command.

“Yes, sir.”

I bend over to slip my boots off, then let him help me wiggle out of my pants, leaving me in just my sweater and a tiny lace thong.

“On my lap, little menace. Now.”

I scramble to obey him, my heart racing and my body flushed with excitement.

I’ve never done anything like this before. Ryder turned off the highway a little while ago, choosing dark, winding back roads where the night wraps around the SUV like a blanket. The houses here are set back from the road with big sections of land between them, and only the occasional car passes us as Ryder navigates carefully along the route.

Beckett’s big hands slide up the backs of my thighs, helping me spread my legs wide as I straddle him, then guiding me down on top of the thick ridge of his clothed cock.

“You’re hard,” I breathe out, rocking against him.

He moves his hands to my ass, tightening his grip in a silent reminder that he’s in charge right now.

“You said you wanted some cream, dirty girl,” he says with a wicked smile. “Be careful what you ask for.”

Before I can answer, he kisses me possessively. His tongue slides between my lips as his big hands knead my ass, slipping under my thong to pull me even closer.

“Fuck.” Ryder groans. “You’re making it hard as hell to focus up here, putting on a show like that back there.”

“Just don’t run us off the road,” Tristan murmurs. “I’m suddenly feeling very motivated to make it back to the hotel in one piece.”

My pussy clenches at the promise in his words, and I can’t help grinding against Beckett as he claims my mouth. His cock is rock hard, and the pressure against my clit feels too good for me to stay still.

He pulls his hands out from my thong and swats my ass, loosely wrapping his other hand around my throat as he pushes me back enough to look in my eyes. “Are you trying to get on the naughty list?”

“No, sir,” I answer breathlessly.

Ryder laughs. “You sure you don’t want to rethink that answer, love?”

“Even nice girls are allowed on the naughty list this time of year,” Tristan teases, making me flush.

Beckett reaches between us, keeping one hand around my throat as he slowly lowers his zipper. “Do you know what you get when you land on the naughty list?”

I shake my head, then lift up when he directs me to.

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