Page 39 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“Oh, fuck, this is perfect!” I cry out as a third orgasm blows through me. “Harder, baby, please… HARDER!”

I’ve lost my mind.

Mitch happily obliges, ramming into me until he, too, comes. His heat fills me, and I feel his essence melting into my body, his thrusts downright savage as my breasts bounce under his lustful eyes.

“My turn,” Ethan says.

Mitch smiles like a lazy tomcat and lies on the bed beside me, watching as Ethan takes his turn and starts pounding me into oblivion. I keep one hand on Mitch’s face, lovingly caressing him while my other hand is firmly fondling Colton’s hard balls while he slides down my throat.

“Fuck,” Ethan growls as he, too, comes inside me.

My pussy is overly sensitive with every thrust, and I feel his climax rippling through me. Mitch nibbles on the side of my neck as Ethan pulls out and Colton takes his place.

Colton throws my knees over his shoulders and slaps my ass, pounding me into the mattress until I’m close to passing out.

“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my hand instinctively nestled between my legs.

I coax myself into a fourth climax, losing complete touch with reality as I clench Colton’s cock tightly with my pussy. I feel the stream of his cum shooting deeply into me, I hear the sound of skin slapping skin as he lets go of himself.

Colton grunts in pure ecstasy, loose and out of his mind as he pumps me full of his seed.

“I don’t want this to end,” I hear myself whisper.

A thin, silky layer of sweat covers my naked body. I’m tender and blushing. Sparkling and glowing, naked and surrounded by three of the most incredible, most dashing men I’ve ever had the fortune of crossing paths with. And tonight, they’re mine.

The power is in my hands.

“It won’t end until you end it,” Mitch says.

And I carry his words with me into the milky shimmer of a most wonderful afterglow. Christmas may only be a few weeks away, but I already feel like I’ve been shot straight to the top of the nice list, because this is the best gift I could’ve hoped for.

10

Ethan

“What do we know about her so far?” Mitch asks.

It’s been three days since the three of us shared her. Three days since we claimed Melissa and made her a part of us, whether we’re ready to admit it or not. It’s a dangerous move, I know. We should’ve done the digging first, but our instincts made the decision for us.

I don’t regret a single moment.

Hell, I relive it every night, every time I close my eyes.

“Born and raised in Lincoln, Nebraska,” Colton says, going over the notes in his phone.

We’re in the stables, out of anyone’s earshot except for the horses. Elias is giddy and eager to be ridden. He’s itching for a run across the snowy plain, but he knows I have to brush his coat first. It’s part of our morning ritual.

“Melissa is an orphan. She was placed in the foster system when she was two years old,” he says, his brow furrowed with empathetic grief.

“She must’ve slipped through the cracks, bounced from one foster home to another, from one group home to another.”

“That’s precisely what happened,” Colton says. “She did try to stay out of trouble, but the other kids she used to live with kept roping her in. To her credit, she doesn’t have a juvie record, nor was she arrested until the big one, so either she’s smart and slippery or just—”

“Lucky as hell,” I say.

“She was living in Ainsworth with a Jake Miller when she was arrested for driving that cocaine van,” Colton continues, his thumb scrolling through lines of text on his screen. “She was working in the kitchen of a local watering hole. Diner-slash-pub, they called it.”

“Flipping burgers and tossing fries,” Mitch sighs. “She never really stood a chance, huh?”

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