Page 58 of Dirty Little Christmas

The third smack makes me scream his name.

"Three," I wail, riding his hand.

He flips me over onto the couch. I land on my back on the cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

"Spread your legs," he growls, circling around to me. "Wider."

I spread my legs as wide as I can.

His hand comes down on my sex.

I jerk in shock.

"Don't pretend you don't like it, angel," he says, his eyes pools of obsidian desire. "I feel you getting wetter."

He smacks my sex again. And then again.

I sob, clawing at his shoulders and arms.

He runs one hand down the crevice of my ass, pressing his thumb against my back entrance.

His hand comes down on my pussy as he presses his thumb into me.

I wail his name, coming so hard the entire room goes black. Blood rushes in my ears. I lose track of everything, lost in a maelstrom of intense pleasure.

"Good girl," he croons to me through the dark. "Good girl, angel."

"Alaric," I sob, reaching for him with trembling arms. "More."

"Ah, fuck," he groans. The head of his cock presses against my hole.

We cry out together as he pushes his way inside me. My muscles twinge faintly in protest before the ache bleeds to pleasure. He impales me on him, groaning my name.

Only then do I realize he still has his thumb inside my ass. He pushes it in deeper before sliding it out, only to do the same thing again. My core clenches around him, shards of pleasure stabbing deep into my womb.

"Goddamn, angel," he growls, rocking into me in shallow thrusts. "You're so fucking tight."

"I can't…" I'm going to come again. Already, I feel it building to the breaking point, threatening to unravel me. He's everywhere and it's too much. "Alaric."

"Come, sweet December," he croons. "Cream all over my cock."

I let go, falling into the orgasm. It drags me under, leaving me writhing in the sweetest torment.

Alaric groans, driving into me again and again before he shouts and follows me over. Thick ropes of sticky cum fill me, sending aftershocks pinging through my system. I peel my eyes open, watching him as attentively as he does me.

He's fierce in his pleasure, a radiant prince.

He reaches for my hand, linking our fingers together. As we moan and tremble, coming down together, we're connected in every way two people can be connected. And for the first time in six years, perhaps for the first time since my mom died, I know peace.

Chapter Sixteen

Alaric

"Wake up, angel," I whisper, running my lips across December's bare shoulder. "It's Christmas."

She moans, stirring in my arms.

I brush my hand down her side, marveling at how sweet she is. I don't think I'll ever get used to how smooth her skin is or how soft she feels beneath my palm. All I have to do is touch her, and I'm hard. Hell, that's not true. All I have to do is look at her and I'm hard. The last few days have been the best of my life.

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