Page 30 of He Sees You

I take her hand again, tugging her so that she has nowhere to go but to me. I pull her onto my lap. “He knows when you’re awake,” I murmur, and as I shove up the hem of her t-shirt, it’s so fucking easy to position her so that I can thrust up into her as gravity allows her to sink down on top of my cock.

Once I’m seated inside of her with Dove seated on my lap, I swoop her mass of hair over her shoulder, nestling my chin near the point where it connects with her neck.

Leaning over Dove, I ease the camera out of her shell-shocked hands. She was still staring at one of the first pictures I snapped of her sleeping securely in her bed. With practiced fingers, I operate the camera until it’s ready to take another shot.

It’s not as easy to take a selfie with a professional camera, but when there’s a will, there’s a way, and I need this moment in time documented for the future. My precious Dove impaled on my cock, the hem of her t-shirt covering the point where she’s stretched around my girth, the two of us under her Christmas tree where—once she comes back to me again—I’m going to lay her out and fuck her until she admits that her cop’s cock is more than ‘okay’... I’ll never forget this moment, but I want a picture of it anyway.

When I turn the camera around again, checking on the shot, Dove jolts. I moan as the way her pussy flutters around my erection before squeezing it has me desperate to start thrusting, but I get the feeling that she doesn’t even realize that I’m inside of her.

Like, sheknows, but she’s so distracted by the picture of my well-fucked girl on my lap, my cocky face peering over her shoulder as I tell the world with my smirkI’ve wonthat she didn’t try to make me go off on purpose. She just reacted, and the same thing happens as she twists enough to glare at me.

God, is there anything fucking sexier than a pissed off woman on your lap?

“What’s this?” she demands. “More blackmail? If I don’t do what you want, you’ll show everyone this picture of us obviously fucking?”

Hm. I guess it is pretty obvious.

I press a kiss to her upper back. “I would never. I can promise you that, at least. These pictures… this moment in time? It’s ours, precious. No one else’s.”

She frowns. “Then why take the picture at all? Why take any of these?”

Shouldn’t the professional photographer understand that better than anyone?

“Memories,” I say simply. “Think of them as watching me fall in love with you before you even knew I was there. And now that you do… we’ll start documenting our life together, starting with our first Christmas.”

“You say that like there will be more. Like you’re not going to walk out on this one and we’ll never see each other again.”

Wishful thinking on your part, perhaps, Dove. I’m not going anywhere. This Christmas, I had one wish, and with Dove slowly starting to grind her pussy against me, almost like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, I got just what I wanted.

Dove Yarrow underneath a Christmas tree.

I reach around her, pinching her nipple through her t-shirt.

She gasps, her inner walls gripping me so tightly, I swear my cock nearly snaps in half before her grinding becomes full-out riding.

I grin. That’s my girl. “You got your gifts from Santa, Dove. I’ve got mine. Of course there will be more Christmases.”

“That’s what you think,” she gasps.

No. That’s what Iknow.

And, remember, Santa knows everything.

ELEVEN

LAST CHRISTMAS

DOVE

ONE YEAR LATER

Derek wasn’t kidding when he said he wouldn’t let me escape him that easily.

I tried. On three separate occasions, I bolted.

Can you blame me? He had six months to get to know me through such dubious methods, I can’t believe I didn’t call his superior officer that first Christmas. I had one night with him before he expected me to simply give in and promise him forever and I… I couldn’t do it.

So I ran.

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