Page 200 of Filthy Rich Santas

We’re having a white Christmas.

I can’t help but smile. This is exactly how I want to wake up every Christmas morning for the rest of my life.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, my voice still scratchy from last night as the men start to stir next to me.

Tristan presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. “Merry Christmas, freckles.”

Ryder’s arm tightens around my waist as he mumbles a sleepy, “Merry Christmas, love.”

Beckett’s eyes are still closed, a small smile playing on his lips. “Merry Christmas,” he echoes. “Did Santa leave us any presents?”

My mouth falls open. “Did you just make a joke?”

He chuckles without answering, but then I remember something and grin.

“Hang on a second.” I carefully extricate myself from the tangle of limbs, then pad across the room, crossing my fingers that I’ll find what I’m looking for in one of their bags.

I do—the Santa hats they surprised me with on our road trip are tucked into the side pocket of Ryder’s duffle bag, and a fluttery feeling of joy hits me as I pull them out. Fuck, I really do love Christmas.

Turning back to the bed, I’m struck by the sight of my three men, all sleep-rumpled and naked. They’re more than just sexy, though. They’re all incredibly good sports, letting me put a Santa hat on each of them for the low price of a single, filthy kiss.

“Are we gonna have to wear these all day?” Ryder asks when I step back to admire the view.

“That depends,” I tease him. “Just how happy do you want to make me?”

I fan myself, playing it up, but I’m not exaggerating. The image of them like this—all naked except for those ridiculous hats—is one I want to burn into my memory forever. Sexy and silly and all mine.

Ryder’s grin is positively wicked. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Tristan smirks. “And I think someone might have a Santa kink.”

Beckett just raises an eyebrow, and I laugh, feeling light and happy.

“What can I say? I must have been a very good girl this year to get such wonderful presents.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ryder teases, reaching for me and snagging my wrist. “I seem to remember you being on the naughty list last night.”

As Ryder tugs me back onto the bed, I shiver at the memory of how very thoroughly they took care of that.

“Is Tristan right?” he whispers, deftly rolling me under him, face down on the bed with his hard, warm body pinning me to the mattress. “Do you have a Santa kink, love?”

“I… I think I have ayoukink.”

“I can work with that,” he says, his chuckle warm and wicked as he grinds his cock against me, groping my curves.

I spread my legs in an instinctive response, and he groans, low and deep, as he pushes my hair aside to kiss the back of my neck. “Fuck, I can’t get enough. One of these days, I’m going to get you under me like this while you’re still sleeping. Just spread your thighs and sink right in. Fuck you while you’re still half-dreaming and let you wake up impaled on my cock and already coming.”

“Oh, god,” I whimper.

His grip on my waist tightens, and I feel his cock thicken and harden against my ass. “Is that what you want, love? Are you gonna be a good girl and let me do that? Let us have you whenever we want, however we want?” His voice lowers, his breath ghosting across my ear and making me shiver. “Let me fuck you in your sleep?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Please.”

He rolls off me, grinning as he sits up and pulls me into his lap. “Good.”

“What?” I smack his chest playfully. “You’re seriously going to say all that, do all that, and then… and then…”

“Not fuck you?”

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