Page 61 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

Teddy leans in, his lips brushing against her shoulder as his fingers continue to circle her clit, pushing her higher and harder, until she’s practically trembling and on the verge of shattering.“Come for us, Grace,” he commands, his voice low and dark. “Come for us, and we’ll take you again, and again.”

I slam into her one last time, driving as deep as I can, and that’s all it takes. Her body convulses, tightening around me, and the scream she releases around Key is fucking primal. Pure, unfiltered pleasure.

I let go, finally losing control, groaning as I bury myself deep inside her, the tight grip of her body pulling me under, drowning me in the raw, violent pleasure of it all. Every muscle in me tightens as I release, my cock throbbing inside her as I empty myself, filling her completely. The heat, the pressure, the way her body clenches around me—fuck, it’s too much. I can barely breathe, lost in her, consumed by the way she takes everything we give her.

Teddy grunts behind her, his hands gripping her hips so tight I can see his knuckles whitening. His thrusts become erratic, rougher, and I can feel the shudder of his body as he presses deeper into her.

“Fuck…” he growls, his voice strained, guttural. With one final thrust, he buries himself in her ass, groaning as he comes hard, spilling deep inside her. His fingers dig into her skin, holding her tight as he rides out the waves of pleasure, his body trembling with the force of it.

Grace moans around Key’s cock, the sound vibrating through him, and it’s enough to send him over the edge. His hand tightens in her hair as he thrusts into her mouth one last time, groaning as he releases. His hips jerk as he comes hard, spilling down her throat.

Grace trembles between us, her body quaking as we all come down from the high together. The room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and raw, satisfied groans. She’s a mess of sweat and trembling limbs, but the way her eyes flutter open, the dazed, blissed-out look on her face–it’s perfection.

I press my lips to her neck, breathing her in, feeling her pulse still racing beneath my lips. “You’re ours,” I whisper, my voice hoarse but full of conviction, practically ending on a snarl. “I mean it, Nutcracker.You’re fucking ours!”

She collapses against me, her body limp, completely spent. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close. She’s ours now, completely and utterly, and the thought of it sends a slow, satisfied heat coursing through me.

This is just the beginning.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Aha, Christmas magic. Is there anything better? I take a deep breath of crisp winter air, watching the snowflakes drift lazily to the ground. It’s serene, almost too serene for someone like me, who prefers a little more chaos mixed with my snow.

I thrive in the pandemonium that is the Christmas season. I love the busy, frantic shopping. The baking. The, well…everything! But a nice, peaceful snowy morning is always welcome too.

It took me forever to get out here. I practically had to beg the guys to let me step outside. They’ve been treating me like I’m some fragile snow globe that’ll shatter the moment I’m out of their sight. Atlas, with his bear-like protectiveness, flat out refused at first, his voice all gruff and serious. Teddy gave me his patented “are you sure this is a good idea”look, and Key–well, he just smirked and said, “You’re gonna get cold, Sugar.” Like I’m not aware it’s winter.

But I put on my best pleading face, complete with wide, innocent eyes and pouty lips, and after what felt like hours of negotiation–okay, maybe like ten minutes–they finally relented.The snow had stopped, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and I was free!

Well, almost. They still insisted on me waiting by the front door while they checked the perimeter like it’s part of some covert military operation. I mean, I suppose it is considering their…occupationand the girl being held hostage not far from here. Either way, I’m not complaining at the chance to get out in the fresh, mountain air.

I tug my coat tighter, squinting at Atlas as he stomps through the snow like a human tank. His black hair is tied back, and he looks like he’s on some dangerous mission, scanning the surroundings like a wild animal on the hunt. Teddy’s over by the tree line, his sharp blue eyes practically slicing through the frosty air. And Key–well, Key’s probably plotting something mischievous. He’s been glancing my way every few minutes, and that grin of his is all kinds of suspicious.

It’s peaceful. Too peaceful. I mean, how many times can a girl admire pine trees and snow without falling asleep on her feet? My fingers are itching for something fun, something chaotic. I scan the area, my eyes narrowing as a plan starts to form.

Oh yeah. This is happening.

I bend down, scooping up a handful of snow, packing it tight in my hands. The cold bites into my skin, but I ignore it, my grin growing wider. Atlas’s back is turned to me, his broad shoulders the perfect target. He’s so serious, stomping around like he’s on a mission to save Christmas or something. I can’t resist.

With a quick flick of my wrist, I launch the snowball through the air. Time seems to slow as I watch it soar, spinning in perfect arcs, heading straight for its destination.

Splat.

The snowball hits Atlas square in the back of the head. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle my laugh as he freezes in place, his entire body going rigid. For a second, I think he’s going toexplode. His shoulders rise, and then he slowly turns around, his face a mixture of confusion and, dare I say it, betrayal.

“You did not just-” he starts, his deep voice rumbling in a way that should probably scare me. But it doesn’t.

I burst out laughing, clutching my sides as I double over in the snow. “Oh, I totally did!” I manage to gasp between fits of giggles. “What’s the matter, big guy? Can’t handle a little snowball?”

Atlas raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You think that was funny, huh?”

“Absolutely hilarious,” I say, wiping a tear from my eye. “Come on, lighten up! It’s Christmas, and you’re acting like a grumpy snowman.”

He shakes his head slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. But there’s a glint in his eye, something playful lurking behind that stoic exterior.

Before I can throw another snowball, Key’s voice rings out from across the field. “Oh, Sugar. You’re in so much trouble now!”

I whip around just in time to see Key sprinting toward me, a snowball already forming in his hands. He’s fast–too fast–and before I can even think to run, he lets it fly. The snowball smacks into my shoulder, sending a shower of white powder into the air.

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