Page 54 of Dirty Little Christmas

"W-what are you doing?" I ask.

"What I wanted to do the last time we were in this elevator together," he growls, backing me up against the wall. He shoves his hand beneath my skirt, covering my mouth with his at the same time. "I want to hear your cries bouncing off the fucking walls, December."

His thumb presses against my clit as he thrusts two fingers inside me.

I shout his name, my hands flat against the wall.

"Yeah, just like that," he breathes, his eyes locked on my face. He plays with me like I'm his favorite toy, touching me as if he knows all of my secrets. My cries fill the elevator as he lifts me higher, driving me toward an orgasm with ruthless precision.

"Alaric," I groan. "Please." He's going to wreck me, minutes before we meet my stepdad.

"Come all over my fingers, December," he growls. "I want to feel it." His thumb grinds against my clit, his fingers curling up to stroke my g-spot. "Don't fight me, sweet girl. Give me what I want."

I do. God, I do. I shatter around his fingers, wailing his name as bright lights explode behind my eyelids in a whirling kaleidoscope of color. Reality spins away, leaving me floating in euphoria where it's safe and warm and he's the only thing that exists.

"Good girl," he whispers, crooning to me through the haze. "Fuck, you make that look so good." His lips run across my face, raining adoring kisses upon my skin as he holds me close.

"Alaric?" I mumble.

"Yeah, angel?"

"Can I spend Christmas with you?"

"You're spending all your Christmases with me from now on, sweet December," he says, pressing his lips to my temple.

"Okay."

He scoops me up, carrying me through Ruby's office into his. I rest my head on his shoulder, enjoying the last few minutes of peace while they last. They don't last long. We barely make it through his office door when the elevator is recalled.

Cory is here.

My eyes spring open, anxiety shooting through me.

"Hey." Alaric places his hands on my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. "You're mine to protect now, angel. It doesn't matter what he says or what he thinks. He doesn't get to treat you like shit anymore. I won't allow it."

"You're going to slay dragons for me." My smile wobbles.

"You're going to slay this one yourself, angel." He bumps his forehead against mine, giving me a reassuring smile. "Youcan do it. And when you're done, I'm taking you away for Christmas." His hand slips between our bodies, splaying across my stomach. "You still owe me a gift."

Chapter Fourteen

Alaric

Cory Rhett is a perfectly coiffed, urbane son of a bitch. Even at nine in the morning on a Sunday, he strolls in wearing a three-piece suit, looking camera ready.

"Parrish," he says, his hard green eyes narrowing on the way I'm holding his stepdaughter. As if he has any say here. His expression softens incrementally when he looks December over. He feels some softer emotion for her, at least.

"Hi, Cory," December whispers.

"December," he says.

Silence stretches out between them for a moment, and then Cory curses under his breath.

"What happened, December?" he asks.

"Wrong question," I growl. "What you should be asking her is if she's okay."

"Of course she's okay. She's right there," he says, waving a hand in her direction.

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