Page 10 of Her Christmas Monsters

I’m pretty sure he’s supporting me completely now as my body hums with ecstasy. I never want this to end. I never want to be without his shadows stroking me, plunging into my soaked pussy and filling me completely.

“Come for me Clara,” he groans, and my body comes apart for him, breaking into a million pieces as my orgasm crashes over me. Waves of pleasure flood my veins as my core spasms around his shadows that still plunge into me, fucking me through my release.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispers.

I suck in a sharp breath as the world falls out from under me. Soren’s hands fade away into nothing, leaving me cold and bereft in their wake as I’m thrust back into reality with the wailing screech of my alarm.

Chapter Six

Istrideoffthemain elevator and across the fifth floor, my eyes already locked on the private Ainsworth Corp elevators on the other side of the office. My black heels click on the tiled floor, and I pause at my desk only long enough to throw my coat on the hook. Keeping my bag clutched in my palm I turn to sweep back out of my cubicle, my mind singularly focused on shoving my designs in Fynn’s face when a large, strong hand wraps around my arm.

“Are you okay, Clara,” Ethan asks, his brows creasing.

“I’m fantastic.” I smile and hold up my briefcase clutched in the other hand. “I’m about to throw my design in Ainsworth’s face and tell him to shove his list of other candidates where the sun doesn’t shine because that promotion is mine.”

“Maybe don’t say that last part.” Ethan chuckles, and his fingers slip from my bicep. “It may have worked on Jack, but I don’t think the CEO will let that slide.”

“You’re right.” I shake my head. “I’ll definitely be thinking it though when I see that smug smirk fall off his handsome face.”

“His what?” Ethan asks.

“Nothing,” I rush out, and turn on my heel nearly sprinting to the elevators.

“Can I at least see it first?” he calls after me with a breath of amusement, but I’m already pushing the button.

“Later,” I shout back, only to be assaulted with a chorus of shushes from the cubicles around me. “But first I need to serve Ainsworth up a slice of humble pie,” I whisper to myself as the elevator dings and I climb on.

“You can’t go in there,” Julie snaps as I approach her desk. “I’ll call you back up when Mr Ainsworth is ready to fire you.”

“Oh Julie, you should really stick to your day job.” I give her a saccharine smile as I stride right past her. “Comedian just isn’t the right fit for you.”

“Bitch,” she hisses, stumbling as she rushes to intercept me, but she’s too late.

Deciding to go the dramatic route, I push both the doors open at the same time as I storm into his office.

“I’m here well before your deadline,” I declare, but stop short at the other person in the office.

“Mr Ainsworth, she—” Julie starts, as she walks in behind me.

“Just leave,” he dismisses her and scrubs a hand over his face. Rage flickers in those silver eyes for a moment before his expression becomes an apathetic mask.

“As you can see I’m in a meeting, Ms Wright,” he grinds out.

“Oh that’s alright. I’m sure we can pick this up another time,” the other man says. He has the same silver hair as Fynn, and when he turns around he looks to be about the same age. He would be considered handsome by most, but he doesn’t even begin to compare to Fynn. His eyes don’t flicker with the same glint of silver as he looks between us with amusement.

“I see what you mean, Fynn,” the other man says as he passes me, and I swear I catch sight of a pointed ear barely poking out from beneath his hair. “Just don’t let that thick head of yours get in the way.”

“Get out,” he growls, and I turn as the man lifts his hands in defense, chuckling as he leaves the office.

“That was extremely unprofessional, Ms Wright,” Fynn growls, the sound vibrating through me and sparking thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having right now.

I swallow thickly and do my best to look unfazed as I struggle to grasp that same defiant flame that flickered in my chest just moments ago.

“I could’ve been professional about this, but your email yesterday was too far,” I quip as I stride the rest of the way to his desk.

“Oh you saw that did you?” He chuckles, and leans back in his chair as though he’s replaying a fond memory in his head. “I thought you might get a kick out of that, or at the very least it might spark some creativity in you.”

“Don’t try to take credit for my work. I’ve had to put up with enough of that already,” I huff out on a breath of frustration and sit in the now open chair.

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