Page 147 of Filthy Rich Santas

Ryder rolls to his feet, helping Beckett lift her out from between them, and I pull her straight into my arms, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her deeply.

Her mouth is hungry on mine, tasting of sin and sex, and I can’t get enough. She’s always gorgeous, but messy like this, covered in my two best friends’ cum with her skin gleaming and hair mussed from the pleasure they’ve all shared makes her fucking breathtaking.

When we finally part, breathless, Lana asks, “How do you want me?”

“Bound. Restrained. Beautiful.”

She blushes, her eyes darting to the ropes Beckett pointed out earlier. “In those?”

“That’s right, freckles. I want to tie you up.”

“Shibari,” she breathes out, reminding me that when the subject of the Japanese art of rope bondage came up between all of us in the car once, she looked intrigued.

But then the excitement on her face fades, replaced by a flicker of nervous uncertainty.

“Nothing happens that you don’t want here,” I remind her.

“No, I do,” she says quickly. “I’d like to try. It’s just that I’ve never done it before, and…”

Her cheeks flush pink.

“And?” I prompt her.

She looks away. “I—I’ve seen some videos, but I’m not the typical size for it, am I?”

I turn her face back toward me. “There is no typical. Kink is for everyone. And you? Your body is perfect for this.”

“Is it?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I answer, my voice husky as I trail my fingers along her curves. “You’ll look stunning with rope wound around you right here… and here… and here. Shibari is more than kink. More than bondage. It’s art, and your body is my canvas. But you will always be the one in control, I promise, sweetheart. You can stop everything at any time with a single word.”

Her breath hitches at my words, and she swallows hard, her eyes glowing with a mix of vulnerability and trust that guts me.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice shaking slightly. “And if I don’t want to stop? If I want you to push me a little?”

I smile, my heart surging in my chest. “Then you’ve already given me that word.”

Green.

Fuck. She couldn’t be any more perfect if she tried.

Beckett and Ryder move around the room, cleaning themselves up a little but never taking their eyes off her as I lead Lana over to the piece of equipment I want. Everything in here is versatile, and while this one tends to be referred to as a spanking bench most often and I have no intention of spanking her, it’s perfect for the position I want her in.

Because once I have her in my ropes, I’m going to need to fuck her, and the image of having her bent over and bound while I slide into her hot, cum-slick pussy makes my cock pulse inside my pants, hard enough to make me groan.

“Spread your legs around it. That’s right. Just like that.” I guide her, her curves soft and lush under my hands as I help her straddle the bench, then push her flat against its wide surface.

She folds over it like a dream, turning her head to the side and resting her cheek against it with a sigh.

I take a moment to make sure she’s truly comfortable before reaching for the ropes, admiring the picture her flushed skin makes against the black leather.

“Fucking gorgeous” Beckett murmurs, as if he’s reading my mind.

I select a long length of forest-green rope. Then, with a little smirk, grab a second length. This one a deep, ruby red.

Ryder chuckles. “How festive.”

Lana’s eyes have drifted closed, her body relaxed and trusting. But at Ryder’s words, she opens them and, when she sees the holiday colors I’ve chosen, bites her lip, smiling.

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