Page 40 of Filthy Rich Santas

He crawls up onto the bed, then pushes my legs open even wider and kneels between them, the heat from his body like an electrical charge pulsing between us.

“Keep going,” he growls.

It’s not a request, it’s an order, and something in his tone sends fire licking through my veins. The interest in being dominated in bed is what sent me to their kink club in the first place. And the fact that it’sTristanbossing me around right now makes it so much better.

“What else?” I pant, not looking away from him. “Tell me what to do. Please.”

His cock jerks again under the towel, and with a low grunt, he rips it away and fists himself. “Tell me how wet you are, gorgeous.”

A shiver runs through me, and I dip my fingers deeper into my panties. “Sowet. Sopping.”

“Why?”

“Because of you.”

His eyes are hooded, his fist picking up the same rough, almost angry rhythm as before as it moves over his cock. “I can smell it. You’re usually all honey and sweetness. Now you’re cherry blossoms and sex. Fuck yourself with those fingers for me. Show me how you like it.”

I writhe on the bed as I follow his commands, my insecurities temporarily drowned out by the ease of just doing what he wants me to.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp as my climax builds inside me. “I’m?—”

“No,” Tristan says sharply, pulling me back from the edge. “Don’t come yet. Take off your clothes first. I want to see you come undone. And you want me to, don’t you? You want me to watch. It’s why you’re in my bed. Why you were waiting for me, putting on a show you knew I couldn’t resist.”

“You can’t resist me?” I whisper breathlessly.

His stormy eyes become almost black. “You fucking know I cant. And you don’t want me to.”

I lick my lips. “I don’t.”

“You want me to watch.”

A twinge of anxiety threatens to interrupt the fantasy. I can’t help feeling self-conscious at the idea of baring my less-than-perfect body to him, but then my eyes catch on his jagged scars, the physical evidence of the pain he shared with me last night, and I push aside my reluctance.

“I… I do,” I pant, pinned in place by the heat in his gaze. “Watch me, Tristan. Let me show you how good I can be for you. Tell me what to do.”

His lips spread in a wicked smile, the approval on his face making my breath hitch.

“That’s right, baby. You’re going to be good for me now and do what I already told you to. Take off those pretty things you’re wearing and show me that lush body of yours. I want to see your wet pussy dripping for me. Show me what you like to do to it. Let me hear you pant my name as you touch yourself.”

I moan, my self-consciousness slipping away as he strips me bare with his words. And I give him everything he asks for, tugging off my sleepwear and sliding out of my panties. His gaze roams over every inch of me as he murmurs low words about how beautiful I am, how soft my skin looks, how lush my curves are.

By the time I’m naked, I’m blushing and trembling and so damn turned on that it feels like I’m about to shatter into a thousand pieces.

I lie back, completely revealed, biting my lower lip as my neglected clit throbs. I don’t even realize I’m waiting for his direction until he gives it.

“Touch yourself.”

Instantly, I reach between my legs, only to be stopped by a sharp click of his tongue.

Heat bursts through my core, the almost impersonal command in the sound making me feel owned in a way I didn’t even know I craved.

“Not there. Not yet. Touch your breasts, gorgeous. Lift them up and stroke them.”

I pant as I do it, unable to be still as my body writhes.

“Roll your nipples between your fingers. Fuck, they’re incredible.” He takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “Pinch them for me.”

I do it, and although satisfaction flares in his eyes, he shakes his head.

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