Page 195 of Sinning for Santa

A whimper passes her lips, and those blue eyes start to water, so I claim her lips, needing to remind her again, that when the two of us come together like this, nothing else matters.

My hands move to her arse as I break the kiss, my hips thrusting as I pound into her, the plug in her back passage working well to fill her and add pressure to all her sensitive places.

“You’re mine.” I grit out as I start to lose control. “You are all fucking mine.”

She whimpers, and I feel her tightening around my cock as she tumbles over the edge again, another orgasm ripping through her as I piston so fast that I nearly see fucking stars.

I explode inside her, my cock jerking hard over and over as I fill her pussy with my seed, reminding me how much I’ve missed this. Missed her.

When the ripples of pleasure subside, I find my arms wrapped around her, my head tucked into her neck, and my cock semi-hard, but nowhere ready to retreat just yet.

I feel it before I hear it. Her body shuddering. A sob passing her lips into the crook of my neck.

Easingback enough to cup her face, I stare into those blue tear-filled eyes and the sight fucking hurts.

I hate to see her tears. Her pain. I want to take it all away so she feels nothing but warmth, love, and happiness.

“Jax?”

“Please get me down.”

“But—”

“Please, Devon. Just get me down from here.”

Fuck.

I nod, moving quickly to remove the plug, tossing it in the box, before lowering her down and letting the harness unravel until her feet touch the floor. The moment she can stand, she helps me get the rest of the harness off, before she quickly picks up her bra and panties, clutching them to her chest.

“Hey.” I grab her arm when she turns away from me, and those blue pained eyes glance up to lock with mine.

“Leave me alone, Devon.” She snarls with so much pain lacing her tone before she wrenches her arm free, and runs off through the crowd.

Chapter forty-three

Jaxcen

Completely shaken by what just happened at Cloud 9, I dress and flee by foot, running the five city blocks back to Presley’s apartment. I’ve been holding my tears at bay as much as I can. Some escape every now and then, but I wrangle them under control, completely confused over seeing Devon again.

Why did he go there?

Why did he do that?

I’d been doing so well, or so I thought, but I was fooling myself. Big time.

I’m not okay, and I haven’t been ever since Devon booted me out of his town.

The moment I close myself inside the apartment, I want to break, but I keep it all in, needing to shower. I need to get his scent off my skin before I completely lose the little control I have.

“I’ve decided Christmas isn’t enough.”

The deep voice startles me, and I scream, whirling around to see Devon sitting on the lounge suite dressed in black pants and a black shirt, looking devastatingly handsome. He’s leaning forward, legs wide the way men sit, his elbows resting on top of his knees.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak. “How did you get in?”

“Since this building is owned by the Marx family, and I’m a Marx, getting in isn’t that hard.” He stands, his height and framemaking Presley’s apartment feel small. Too small as he stalks closer. “And I’m here for you.”

“I… I don’t understand. What do you mean Christmas isn’t enough?” I whisper loudly, taking a step back.

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