Page 8 of Silent Night Sins
The thief drew the flaming, plastic tip down the center of my chest. “Choose. Am I bringing presents or leaving you with coal?”
“You’re going to hurt me.” I hated how small my voice was.
He shook his head. “I’ll never cause you pain.” He twisted my hands, capturing both wrists in only one of his large paws. “Well, not unless you ask me to.”
What is wrong with me?Was it messed up to feel tempted by this offer from a man whose name I didn’t even know?
“Tell me your name,” I demanded.
The candle’s flame circled over my belly before skimming over the elastic of my sleeper shorts.
“You can call me Kris Kringle,” he chuckled. “It’s close enough.”
I jerked in his hold. “I’m not playing unless you give me the truth.”
With a sigh, he rolled on top of me. Good grief, he was heavy. Every pound weighed more because it was solid muscle pinning my legs to the ground.
“It’s Cristiano.”
Such a beautiful name. A whole, unfit name to call the devil looming above me. Something tickled in the back of my mind, but I was too alive, too on fire, to care what my higher faculties of reasoning were trying to tell me.
“Choose, angel. Am I leaving…or staying?” He drew the candle down the curve of my hip, brushed it across my center, and pulled it back up the other side.
My core tightened in response.
I bit my lip. His gaze dropped to track the motion. He let out a muffled curse. It wasn’t German or French, but the language sounded familiar.
While other girls picked up guys at the clubs, I preferred to stay at home, dreaming of men like this. Men who didn’t walk the same sun-kissed sidewalks in suits and ties.
I’m so screwed.Some twisted, insane part of me conceded. My hips tipped up, a silent invitation for him to continue. I gave him a short nod.
“I knew you wanted to play nice,” he smiled. While I couldn’t see the teeth behind the mask, I felt them flash at me.
Leaning down, the thief blew a deep exhale over the thin cotton sleeper shorts. The hot breath bled through the material, straight onto my core. “These are in my way.”
A black, lethal-looking knife sprang open in his other hand.
Gasping because I couldn’t suck in enough air to scream, I lurched back. But between his weight on my legs and the hand he placed on my belly, it was useless. In the orange flicker of the electric flame, I watched as he sliced the shorts neatly in two places.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me?” I choked.
“Pain sweetens the pleasure, angel.” He stabbed the blade into the carpet, right where I could reach it. “But yes, you’re safe with me.”
I inched my fingers out, slowly reaching for the blade. He tracked the motion, not making a move to intercept me.
“Go ahead,” he urged. “Hold it if it makes you feel better.”
My fingers wrapped around the handle. I yanked it from the rug. The metal was surprisingly warm. The hilt was thick and flat; it made my hand look small.
The candle moved down my stomach. The orange glow spread over my thigh before dipping between my legs. I tried to spread them, but the monster’s weight wouldn’t let me budge. He teased the hard length of plastic along my inner thigh.
When it finally nudged against my aching pussy, pleasure rushed to my center.
“You light the candles, I’ll blow them out. That’s our game.” With that, he pushed the tip along the seam of my pussy.
I was so freaking turned on, and the panties were still covering me.
Cristiano rubbed the candle up and down, stroking my pussy. “Dio, you’re soaked for me, angel.”
