Page 21 of Silent Night

How I can deny her such a request when I have nothing else I’m able to gift her? This is all I’ll ever be able to give her. As the villain in the night, sneaking through her house, fucking the house’s mistress on her hands and knees like a regular whore.

She’s not a regular whore though. She’s mine. All fuckingmine.

At least for now.

Before my thoughts linger too long on that, with the grip I have in her hair and my other hand reaching out to flatten against her stomach, I straighten her onto her knees so her back is to my chest, her neck bared for the taking. I use her hair to keep her against me.

When I thrust again, it’s with my face in her neck, breathing in her delicious scent. She smells faintly like sweat and me, and I hope she never washes it off, even when it’s a fantastical thought that’ll never come to pass. Of course, she’ll shower, and once she wakes in her actual home, she’ll be thankful she’s gotten rid of every trace of me.

“You’re too good to be down there,” I growl into her skin. “I want you here, watching the tree with me like we’re some sort of happy ending.”

She cries out, her pussy clamping. Her eyes slide shut but with a gentle tap to her cheek, I wake her up.

“Eyes open. I want you here with me.”

“As if there’d be anywhere else,” she whispers, locking her eyes onto the tree.

My thrusts speed up, the compelling urge to come so overwhelming. It won’t be long now, but damn, I want it to be. I want to drag this out for as long as I can. All night ideally. So long as I don’t have to let her go.

“Please tell me you’re on birth control.”

“Yes, and I’m safe.”

“Thank fuck.”

I thrust harder, and when I come, it’s with my hand on her hip and the other on her throat, my teeth in her neck, and my heart in her hand. I come with a growl, an imprint to her insides for every fucker she allows inside her in the future.

My next statement—my vow—I say into her neck, stamping it there so anyone she allows around her will feel it for themselves.

“Ifanyone, your stepbrother or otherwise, evenconsidersharming you, I’ll hunt them the fuck down, Hayley. I don’t care if I have to travel from one end of the country to you, I’ll always protect you. Even though I can’t keep you, you’re mine now, and I protect what little I can call mine.”

Another woman would have run away from me right then and there,finallyunderstanding the dangers in having a criminal in her life. Someone who doesn’t attend a fancy school, or have major career aspirations like she does. But not Hayley.

She twists in my arms and my cock slips out of her. She stares at me, her mouth parting to speak, but anything she’ll say will make it worse, so I kiss her instead. Closed mouth, and sweeter than I’m usually capable while my hands trail up her sides, over her breasts, and back down to her pussy, dripping with my cum.

Then I hold her. Hold her, enjoy her.

After a couple minutes, Hayley pulls out of my arms and settles beside me, her back to my chest. She’s staring past the tree and out the window, where snow is beginning to fall again. A picture-perfect holiday—and the best birthday celebration I’ve ever gotten. The only one, really.

“Why do you move around so much?” she asks suddenly. “Could you not stay in one place for a while?”

“Not with the stealing. I always worry it’ll get traced back to me.”

“Don’t steal,” she says like it’s so simple. She doesn’t understand how stealing things provides an instant payday greater than any job I’d manage to get.

I ignore that comment and return to her other one. “Habit, I think. I was kicked out of every foster home I’ve ever been in, and settling in one place became a strange concept. No town I stopped in ever felt right enough to make it permanent so I kept going.Keepgoing. I guess I’m looking for somewhere suitable enough to call home but haven’t found it yet.”

“If you do find it, would you stop moving around?” Her question has a strange edge to it.

“I’ll never find it, so it’s a pointless question.” My answer is also a lie because I’ve already found it.

Hayley turns slightly, settling against my chest, and I wrap my arm around her back, almost cradling her. She pets my chest, staring at her hand instead of me. “That’s really sad, Saint. I’m sorry for your childhood.”

I don’t respond. Can’t respond. Just stare mutely at the tree and pretend this little woman isn’t breaking me piece by piece.

After a moment, she follows my gaze and her eyes lock on the presents beneath the tree. When her head rolls back to look at me upside down, I suspect her question before she asks it. “What’d you do with the ones I gave you?”

“Pawned the jewellery for cash. Kept the phone.”

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