Page 29 of Ho Ho Oh No

My third orgasm is stronger than the others, sending me reeling. I bite on a pillow to stifle the obscenities flying from my mouth.

Again and again, he jerks into me, his cock swelling as he approaches his climax.“Fuuuck, Sammy,” he rumbles, the sound coming from low in his belly as his release coats my insides.

It’s pure ecstasy. Pretty sure he gave me a breeding kink too.

Aftershocks pulse through me as my climax begins to wane. He lowers my leg while staying inside me. We grow still, and the only sound is the racing of our hearts and shaky breaths.

I’m a second from dozing off when he smacks my ass out of nowhere. “Fucking hell, that was hot, princess. Thanks for the sex. Merry fucking Christmas.”

Silly ass.

Chapter 8

Come before we go

MIA

Cal’s phone chimes with the perimeter alarm a second after mine does. Our escort has arrived.

“Aaron’s here,” I holler, bouncing from toe to toe at the edge of the kitchen where I’ve been banished. “Time to go, Cal. Are you done?”

“Two more minutes, tiger.”

Stifling an annoyed huff, I glance over my shoulder, grateful to see Mama Klein sitting silently with her purse in her lap. Music always calms her, and this afternoon is no exception. We put on the Boston Pops holiday concert for her while we put the final touches on the dessert assortment for the party.

Well, Calfinished the decorating while Iattemptedto help. Unfortunately, my frosting piping technique leaves something to be desired, according to my cake-assed man. He was quite offended by how I kept trying to hide my botched jobs with obnoxious amounts of red, white, and green sprinkles. When he took the sprinkles away from me, I had to resort to seduction as a distraction. Sadly, he caught on pretty quickly to my game. So the sexy baby kicked me out of the kitchen.

I was left with idle hands, which is never a good thing for me and my inner pimp. Especially when Cal made me promise notto work. We’re taking today and tomorrow off from all hacking, intel gathering, and mafia hunting to celebrate the holiday with as much normalcy as possible despite everything at Redleg being a mess. It’ll be a Christmas miracle if I manage to get through the forty-eight hours without breaking out in hives from my intel addiction detox.

But I’m being a good girl.

You’re shocked it’s possible, aren’t you? I don’t blame you.

In case you’re wondering how I pulled off this uncharacteristic compliance, I’ll clue you in.

Some girls are motivated to please their partners for the praise. Others will comply to avoid a punishment. Not me, though.

While I love the praise, especially when contrasted with some degradation, I crave something else more these days. Cal told me if I was good, I’d get extra punishments for the full week between Christmas and New Year’s. Orfunishments, as I’ve recently started calling them.

In our limited free time when we’re not busting up the Bratva, Cal’s been embracing his Dominant side. After the cat finally clawed out of the bag about Tomer’s kink background, he started informally training Cal in the ways of the Dom. Tomer has shared a wealth of information with him about how totamemy brat side.

As if that’s possible.

It’s cute of them to think they could ever accomplish such a feat. Adorable dolts.

Lettie, Kri, and I have done plenty of knowledge exchanging on the other end of the spectrum. Initially, Kri was less than forthcoming. Although she’s shy about it, I wore her down.

Surprisingly, the youngest of us is the most experienced. However, since Lettie worked at a kink club for a year, perhaps we shouldn’t be shocked. She’s brat goals.

Since we’re all spending so much time at Redleg lately for safety reasons, it’s natural for us to break into little groups in the downtime and blow off steam. We’ve essentially formed a brat council. Our motto is:They can’t stop us all. We’re trying to get Sawyer to join, considering Sammy has aligned with the tops. Traitor.

All that said, I see the draw for her. Occasionally, Cal gives me the reins for playtime. Making him follow my orders in the bedroom is heady as hell. We don’t do it often, but it’s a nice change. Apparently, Sawyer and Sammy are our opposites, where she typically tops him, only periodically giving him control.

But she’s out of the Brat Pack. Disqualified by virtue of her true Domme nature. If we let her in, she’d give away all our secrets. We can’t have that.

Cal distracts me from my musings, spinning around and dusting off his hands on his apron. “All set. Let me change, and we can roll out.”

My eyes fall to the black and red apron adorned with a picture of the Rat Pack, all the crooners wearing Santa hats. I’d like to see Cal wearing only that apron. That’d be... a nice present for me.

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