Page 125 of Dirty Little Christmas

I erupt with a groan. Thick ropes of cum shoot from my slit, painting her hand in my seed. She gasps as the warm fluid coats her skin, her eyes wide and lips parted in awe.

I’m still spilling all over her when I unlatch her seatbelt, dragging her across the console onto my lap.

“Grind that hot little cunt all over my cock until you come, Caitlin,” I growl, fisting one hand into her hair to crane her head back. “Use me to get yourself there. Right now.”

She grinds against me, the heat of her cunt searing my cock even through our clothes. Her pouty lips part as she pants and moans, chasing her pleasure on my lap.

I capture her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her soft cries. My tongue delves deep, laying claim to every inch of her mouth. She melts into me, surrendering to the onslaught of pleasure as she trembles and shakes.

"That's it, baby," I growl against her lips. "Use my cock. Rub this greedy pussy all over me until you soak through those panties and drench my jeans."

She whines, her hips circling faster as she obeys. I feel the outline of her swollen clit dragging along my shaft with each pass.

My cock twitches beneath her, overly sensitive from my orgasm. But I'll happily endure the torturous friction to watch her unravel on top of me.

I grip the silky strands of her hair just shy of too tight as I force her head further back. A whimper escapes her lips, and her eyelids flutter.

Fuck, she likes that.

Filing that tidbit away for later, I attack the pale column of her throat with my lips and teeth and tongue. She writhes against me, crying out when I bite down on her racing pulse.

“Cream yourself while you hump my cock, pretty baby,” I rasp against her skin. “Let me feel it.”

She obeys so sweetly, digging her nails into my back and whimpering my name as she shatters apart in my arms. She writhes and shakes, gasping for breath as I grind her down against my cock, making sure she feels every fucking second of pleasure.

“Lachlan,” she gasps, collapsing against my chest when the last wave recedes.

“Next time you feel this good, it’ll be when I’m deep inside you, planting my kid inside you.” I suck a dark hickey against the side of her throat, marking her. “It’ll be when you’re mine in every fucking way, Caitlin.”

"Yes," she sighs against my throat. "Yes."

It's the sweetest word I've ever heard.

Chapter Five

Caitlin

An hour later, Lachlan scoops me up from the seat of his truck to carry me inside his house, determined to show me something else. My stomach flutters with nerves as I cling to him, slightly terrified what other secrets this man has been keeping. And more than a little excited to find out.

“Your house is beautiful, Lachlan,” I whisper, gaping around as he carries me over the threshold. Unlike my place, it looks like Christmas exploded in here. Everything is decorated for the holiday in soft pinks, creams, and gold. The massive tree dominates the living room, with presents piled beneath. An entire Christmas village is spread across every surface in the living room between Christmas greenery. It’s gorgeous.

“Lyric fucking loves Christmas,” he murmurs, carrying me toward the plush sofa. “She goes all out every year. It’s the one day of the year Sinclair and I are forbidden from working.”

“And of course the two of you give her what she wants,” I say, smiling. Sinclair is a certified grump. He’s in the process of selling his half of the company to Lachlan but refuses to say why. I have a feeling it’s because of a woman. And I have an even stronger feeling the woman in question is Lyric.

I’ve heard the way he talks about her. There’s a softness in his voice that isn’t there when he speaks about anyone else. Only her. Lachlan hasn’t figured it out yet, but I have a feeling he will soon enough.

His best friend is in love with his baby sister. I don’t think he’ll mind, though. Lachlan genuinely cares about the people in his life. He adores his sister. If Sinclair makes her happy, I think Lachlan will root for them.

“Who us?” Lachlan laughs. “Never, pretty baby.”

“Liar.” I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re a good man, Lachlan. Lyric is lucky she has you.”

He tips his head down to look at me, his brows furrowed. “You don’t have siblings.”

“No,” I whisper. “My parents realized they didn’t want kids. They just realized one kid too late, so they dropped me off at boarding school as soon as I was old enough. I grew up there.”

“Jesus,” he rumbles. “That’s fucked up, Caitlin.”

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