Page 68 of Filthy Rich Santas

I nod again with a breathy little gasp, but wait until he tells me how.

He smiles. It only shows in his eyes, but the praise still rolls over me like a crashing wave.

“Touch yourself.”

“Yes, sir. Oh god. Yes…”

My hand delves between my legs, and it barely takes a moment before I’m shuddering, my body pulsing as pleasure slams through me.

“Fuck,” Beckett rasps, his hand flying over his cock while his other one reaches out, grabbing my hair.

The sharp sting as he uses the grip to tilt my head back takes the aftershocks of my orgasm and sends them into a tailspin, driving my pleasure even higher.

“Beautiful little menace.”

He grunts the last word as the first hot jet of his cum hits my chin.

He aims the next one at my cheek, then aims his cock at my chest and milks out the last few spurts onto my chest, as promised.

“Fucking filthy,” he mutters almost tenderly, breathing hard as he slowly strokes himself a few more times. “A perfect, filthy little slut.”

I keep my gaze locked with his, the invisible tether between us pulled taut, and when I feel his cum sliding from my cheek toward my mouth, my tongue darts out, catching it and tasting him at last.

His eyes darken, and he finally releases my hair and tucks away his cock, then crouches down in front of me. His gaze drops to my lips for a split second, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.

“Color?” he asks instead.

“Sogreen,” I whisper.

“Good girl. You were perfect,” he murmurs, giving me a smile in return. A small, private thing that almost makes it feel like he kissed me after all.

16

RYDER

I stareup at the dark ceiling as the quiet sounds of the night surround me, one arm under my head and the other curled under Lana where she’s breathing softly next to me. But that’s not what I’m listening to right now.

Every single one of the hot little moans she made earlier tonight is burned into my memory now, and I stifle a groan as they replay in my head on a loop that has my cock aching to be inside her sweet mouth again.

After she went down on all three of us, we got her cleaned up, put away the leftover food in the suite’s compact little kitchen, and all piled in bed together by silent agreement. Not to fuck, unfortunately, since the trip, the sex, and hell, probably all the emotional sharing we did tonight too, seems to have knocked everyone but me out for the night.

I definitely could have kept going, the free pass we agreed to awakening a deep, insatiable hunger for her that I’ve spent years trying to deny. But she needs her rest after all the orgasms we just gave her. And while those alone probably would have worn her out anyway, this is also her first real experience with kink. The high can be intense, and I’ve got no doubt it took just as much out of her as the actual sex.

Which, let it be noted, was fucking phenomenal.

I grin in the darkness, my cock thickening as I let every second of that replay in my mind too.

I’m tempted to slide out of bed, head into the bathroom, and do something about my hard-on. Or, hell, just take care of it right here. But instead, I close my eyes and inhale cherry blossoms and honey, the soft weight of Lana’s body next to me both soothing and arousing in equal measure.

Actually, that kind of sums up everything about Lana in a nutshell.

On the other side of her, I hear Tristan grumble in his sleep, then the bed shifts a little as either he or Beckett—who took the edge of the mattress on Tristan’s other side—changes position.

Probably Beckett.

I frown a little, my libido cooling for a minute, because something was off with Beck tonight. He agreed to this, clearly enjoyed the hell out of it, and I know he would have said something if he hadn’t wanted to be a part of everything that happened.

But he was also holding himself back. I could tell.

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