Page 15 of Triplet Babies for Pucking Christmas

I push into her, slow and steady, and her breath hitches, a soft gasp escaping her lips. I lean down, pressing my forehead against hers, giving her time to adjust. She’s tight, her body gripping me like a vice, and I groan as I push deeper.

“Am I hurting you?” I ask, watching her face.

She shakes her head, biting her lip, and arches her back, driving me deeper. “No,” she whispers. “You feel…incredible.”

I start moving, slow at first, watching her closely. Her hands are on my shoulders, nails digging in, and her eyes are half-closed, lips parted.

Every time I pull back and thrust in again, a soft moan escapes her, and it’s driving me wild.

“Fuck, Savannah,” I mutter, my voice strained. “You’re so damn tight.”

She clenches around me, a wicked grin on her face. “Maybe I should’ve done this sooner.”

I laugh, but it comes out as more of a groan, and I kiss her again, hard and desperate. Our bodies move together, faster now, the tension building between us until I’m teetering on the edge. Her breathing becomes erratic, her nails raking down my back, and I know she’s close.

“Come for me,” I whisper against her lips, my voice rough. “I want to feel you come.”

Her body tightens around me, and with one final thrust, she falls apart, crying out as she shatters beneath me. The sight of her coming undone is too much, and I follow right behind, groaning as I empty into her.

For a moment, we just lie there, panting, our bodies slick with sweat. I pull out slowly, rolling onto my side and wrapping an arm around her, pulling her against my chest. She’s soft and warm, her breathing still uneven as she curls into me.

“I think you owe me dinner,” she mutters, her voice muffled against my chest.

I chuckle, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Room service it is.”

I grab the phone, ordering food—steak, fries, whatever the hell sounds good right now. When I hang up, she’s looking at me with a soft smile on her face.

“Tell me about the wedding,” I say, pulling her closer.

She laughs, a bitter sound. “Where do I even start?”

“Start with the worst part.”

She shakes her head, but within minutes, the words spill from her.Lemons.Layla. The wedding. A ruined Christmas. The fallout.Fuck.

I feel my chest constrict withsomethingas I listen to her talk about how her life imploded.

“Damn, that’s rough,” I say, my heart twisting a little for her.

She nods, a sad smile forming. “Exactly. So here I am, running away to Chicago to start fresh.”

“Better late than never,” I say, brushing my fingers over her arm. “You’re brave for getting out.”

She looks over at me, eyes soft. “What about you? What’s your story?”

I shrug. “Not much of one. Joined the Chicago Icebreakers as their official lawyer. Been trying to stay out of trouble ever since.It’s just now the start of the season, and I’m not looking to make headlines.”

“I know I should have asked this earlier, but you’re single, right?”

I nod.

“And you’re not looking for a relationship either, huh?” she teases.

I shake my head. “Nope. Too much baggage. What about you?”

She laughs softly. “Same. This is just one night.”

“Just one night,” I repeat, but there’s a part of me that wonders if it could be more.

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