Page 88 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

With a broken gasp, her body tenses, then shudders violently as her orgasm rips through her, her head falling forward asshe surrenders completely to the pleasure coursing through her. The way her muscles clench around me like a vice. The way my name spills from her lips in a ragged cry. It’s enough to send me spiraling right after her.

I can’t hold back any longer. With one final, deep thrust, I bury myself inside her, my release crashing over me with such intensity that I groan her name, my body shaking as I coat her channel with my seed. The pleasure is overwhelming, drowning out every thought, every sense, until there’s nothing but her.

For a long moment, we stay like that, both of us trembling, our bodies locked together as we come down from the high. My breath is ragged, my heart pounding, and I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers where they still grip her hips.

Slowly, I loosen my hold on her, my hands moving gently up her sides as I press soft kisses to her shoulder, my body still humming with the aftermath of what we just shared. Grace lets out a soft, contented sigh, her body relaxing into mine as she slumps forward slightly, resting her head against the back of the couch.

“Holy...shit,” she whispers, her voice breathless and full of satisfaction.

I chuckle softly, leaning down to kiss her neck, still trying to catch my breath. “Yeah...you okay?”

She laughs, the sound low and warm, and she turns her head slightly to meet my gaze. “More than okay. That was...wow.”

I grin, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as I press a tender kiss to her cheek. “I’m glad you liked it.”

She leans back into me, her body still warm and pliant, her breath slowly evening out as I pull her flush against me to lay on the couch. “Good Game!” My brows shoot up as she crooks her arm, holding a closed fist out to me.

I laugh, obliging her request with a fist bump before wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close, savoring the way her body fits perfectly against mine.

“Good game, Little One.”

Chapter Thirty

It’s late, and the cabin is finally quiet.

Grace fell asleep about an hour ago, her soft breathing the only sound that filled the room after a long, chaotic day of her personal brand of Christmas chaos.

Teddy made the request for a late-night meeting. Well, it was more like a demand. It’s always Teddy pulling the strings, but I’m not complaining. He’s the one who keeps us all in line. After all, he is the mastermind behind every plan that’s saved our asses more times than I can count.

I walk in to join Atlas who’s already at the minibar, towering over it like some kind of dark, brooding Christmas tree. The way he moves is pure predator, all smooth muscle and barely contained power, but when it comes to Grace, he’s a damn teddy bear. I love watching that juxtaposition.

Teddy strolls in last, as calm and collected as ever. His blonde hair is still damp from the shower, and he’s got that calculating look in his eyes like he’s already ten steps ahead of us. He pours himself a drink, something dark and smooth–probably bourbon–swirling the glass in his hand.

I take a sip from my own glass, I lean back against the minibar, letting the ice clink in the silence as I watch him move. He stops in front of the fireplace, his back to us, staring into the flames like they’ve got some kind of answer hidden in them. That always means something big is coming. Atlas sprawls himself across the couch, a hulking figure of silent anticipation. He hasn’t asked Teddy what’s going on yet, but I can see the question written in his eyes every time he glances at him.

Teddy’s been quiet, too quiet, and now we’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Spit it out already, Ted,” I say, the silence getting on my nerves. “What’s this about?”

Teddy doesn’t move for a second, still watching the fire. Finally, he turns, eyes locking with mine, then flicking to Atlas. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t get comfortable. Instead, he takes a deep breath, his hands tightening around the glass in his hand like he’s steadying himself.

“It’s about Grace,” he says, his voice calm, but heavy with the weight of what he’s about to say.

Atlas sits up a little straighter, his expression sharpening. “What about her?”

Teddy holds our gaze, and I know he’s about to drop a bomb. “We need to make a decision about her. And bydecision, I mean we either make her a permanent part of this...or we don’t.”

There’s no hesitation in me. None. I don’t need time to think, and neither does Atlas, from the look of it.

“We’re keeping her,” Atlas says immediately, his voice low and gruff, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is.

I grin, knocking back my bourbon before answering. “No shit. She’s ours. That’s not even up for debate.”

Teddy nods, like he expected nothing less, but there’s still something weighing him down. “I figured as much, but I needyou both to understand this isn’t just us playing house or pretending she’ll stay with us because it’s convenient for now. She’s different. This is real. This is forever.”

“Forever,” Atlas echoes, his voice resolute. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“And neither are we,” I add, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “We don’t half-ass anything, especially not this.”

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