Page 143 of Sinning for Santa

As if she’s hoping the magic of her tongue will disorient me enough to drop the subject, Jaxcen’s pink tongue darts out as she leans closer and licks up the salty bead on the tip of my cock.

“Fuck, little mouse. You’re not playing fair.”

She shrugs. “Add that to the list of my sins.”

I grin. I fucking grin wide because holy fuck, this woman before me is so different to the one I kidnapped only days ago.

This one is confident. Taking what she wants. And more importantly, fucking fantastic at sinning for me.

“Stop, little mouse,” I rasp, fisting her hair to pull her head back right in time to stop her from wrapping those fucking perfect plump lips around me.

As soon as she does that, I know I’m a goner.

“But I wanna suck you,” she begs, her voice more whiney, but no less fucking sexy. “I want you to choke me again. Make me gag.”

“Fuck, woman. That mouth of yours is dirty tonight.”

She shrugs, biting her lower lip as her gaze darts between my cock and my face. “I want to be so dirty with the devil. I want to be filthy.”

How the fuck can I deny that?

“Okay, little mouse, but not here. Let’s go back to my room so I can spend all night making you regret begging me for that.”

Chapter thirty-one

Jaxcen

If I thought Devon was going to let me walk back to his suite on my own, I’m sorely mistaken. How can I be annoyed by the fact that after he tucked his dick away, he lifted me to wrap my legs around his hips, and then slipped two fingers inside me while he walked us back.

The fact that we passed some of his men, and Marilda pushing Damon in the stroller as she headed home from Miss Barber’s should mortify me, but it didn’t.

I mean, they couldn’t see what he was doing, but the sight of my legs around him alone should have sent shame crashing through me.

Finally back in his suite, he slips his fingers free and lowers me to the ground.

“Strip.”

I do, without protest, my skin already ablaze and desperate for his touch.

As I peel my clothes off, I watch as he disappears into the bathroom, before returning with an armful of towels.

“What are you doing with those?” I ask, and when his gaze meets mine, I swear it’s the most sinful smile I’ve ever witnessed.

“These are to protect my sheets and carpet a little.”

“Oh. Right,” I say nodding, but then frown. “Wait. Protect it from what?”

“In case you puke.”

Air gets stuck in my throat, and I have to cough to dislodge it, as Devon chuckles, making sure the towels are spread out properly.

His words do two things.

Scare me.

And turn me on.

Which just scares me even more.

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