Page 17 of My Secret Santa Daddies

The room is dimly lit by the same small lamp I had left on before falling asleep, but there’s no trace of the beautiful tree or the boys who had been there just moments ago.

God, I think, clutching at my chest, willing my racing heart to slow down. It was just a dream. Just a stupid dream.

But it doesn’t change the way my body feels—tingling and alive and aching in places it shouldn’t after such a vivid dream. And if I’m being honest with myself, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve had a dream like this.

For as long as I could remember, I’ve had dreams about them—the three boys from my past. And every time, it’s always the same; they come back for me, claiming me as theirs in the most intimate of ways.

But this time… this time was different.

This time it felt so real. Oh God. How desperately some dark lustful part of me wanted it to be real.

Without thinking about it, my hand drifts down between my thighs, seeking out the ache there. My fingertips graze over sensitive skin that is already slick with want.

The orgasm from my dream still pulses through my veins, and it’s all I can do to not ride my hand right then and there.

But as much as I want to, as much as I crave the release, something stops me.

No. I can’t. It’s been too long since I’ve thought about them, let alone touched myself like this.

But even as the sensible part of my brain tries to talk sense into me, my body aches for something else. It aches for them.

The uncontrollable urge is too strong, so I give in, just this once. Can’t make a habit of it or else I won’t be able to look them in the eyes.

I roll onto my stomach, tugging my shorts down and slide my shirt off.

My fingers slide easily inside me, coated in the same evidence of my arousal that had been there in my dream. I moan, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. It’s not like being filled by them—nothing could ever compare to that—but it’s better than nothing.

Slowly, methodically, I start to move my finger in and out, imitating their thrusts from mere moments ago. My other hand finds my swollen bud and starts to rub, imitating the way Cody had touched me in my dream. Wetness soaks through my panties as I recall their faces and touches.

I can still feel them—their hands on my body, their lips on my skin, their cocks inside me. God, it feltsogood. So right.

I can practically hear Cody moaning my name.

“Cody,” I moan, his name just a whisper on my lips.

“Sierra!”

The sharp call of my name yanks me out of my self-induced haze, and I nearly fall off the bed in my haste to cover myself up with the blanket.

Sure enough. There’s Cody. Standing in the doorway.

"Um..." I stutter, trying to regain my composure. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes—those hazel eyes that were just watching me get pounded by Griffin and Wyatt in my dream—are wide withshock as they rake over my naked body. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I swear I see him harden in his jeans.

“I… uh… I didn’t know you were…” His cheeks flush a dark red, and for once in his life, the notorious Cody Bellamy is speechless.

6

CODY

Ithink I just fucked up.

Big time.

What in the actual fuck was I thinking, barging into her room like that? I’m usually more careful than this—more in control. But seeing her there, half-naked and flushed, brought out something in me that I thought I’d buried long ago.

Her golden hair is tousled and her naked body partially exposed under the comforter. The blush spreads down her neck and chest, her skin glowing in the soft light. Her hands hurriedly try to cover herself up, but it's already too late. I can't help but take in every inch of her beauty, from the curve of her hips to the swell of her breasts.

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