Page 100 of Sinning for Santa

A savage frown draws in his dark brows, and he flinches back, like I tried to slap him.

“The fuck are you talking about, woman. All I’ve seen is someone desperate to escape, feeling trapped and in danger. That’s not unhinged. That’s basic human instinct.”

“The knife wasn’t normal, Devon,” I point out.

“The knife was the most normal thing you’ve done,” he snaps, releasing his hold of my face and stepping back.

I suddenly feel so alone.

Too alone.

“I don’t know your story, little mouse, but I can tell you right fucking now, you’re not crazy.” He points to the wall, but as he speaks, I know he’s pointing to a place far from here. “Those fuckers that make you feel bad for having desires are the crazy ones. They’ve been gaslighting you. Fucking with your head, and because you only want to please them, you believe their fucking lies so easily.”

He spins, as if too angry to show me his face before his fist slams into the wall next to the small window.

A squeal of alarm escapes me, and he spins back, showing me that monster I’ve met a few times now.

“I refuse to let them bring you down any longer, Jaxcen. And I’m fucking sorry for contributing to that. Making you think I was going to kill you. That was fucked, and as fucked up as I am, I’ll own that shit.”

My lashes flutter with emotions I’m not used to feeling. No one has ever apologised to me before. Not like this.

I’m not used to it and I don’t know what to do with it, so I brush it off.

“It’s fine. Really. You were—”

“No, it’s not fucking fine! Stop letting people get away with it.”

He storms back to me.

“Slap me again!” he yells, his deep boom loud, sending a ripple of desire up my spine.

“What?” I mutter, dazed, too transfixed on the hard set of his jaw, and the fury contorting his expression.

What a beautiful monster.

“You heard me! Slap me again! Make me pay for the lie!” His hand whips out to wrap around my throat, much like it did earlier, and I swear heat pools between my legs once again.

There’s just something about the way he manhandles me that makes me feel so free, rather than controlled or trapped. Which makes no sense at all, but maybe it’s because I like it so much. I want it.

“No!” I curl my lip, pressing my nose to his, my usually quiet voice, loud.

“Yes!” he booms, releasing my neck to slam his hands on the desk either side of my legs.

“No!” I boom back, quickly wrapping my legs around his hips and pinning him between my thighs.

I can feel him. Hard. Long. Ready.

Devon growls, so I growl back, baring my teeth, and feeling every bit the unhinged person I was speaking of only minutes ago.

Hooking his arm behind my back, Devon easily lifts me, forcing me down on his desk as the last of the files and a cup holding pens crashes to the floor.

“Fucking slap me, Jaxcen!”

A bang sounds somewhere behind me, and I realise it’s the door flying open before another voice joins our little party.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Fuck off, Finn,” Devon hisses, his eyes staying locked on mine as he hovers over me, the hard length of his cock, although covered by his jeans, pressing deliciously between my legs.

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