Page 38 of The Santas Who Stole Me

I moan and open my legs wider for him in invitation, but Calum notices and releases his grip.

His fingers are at my throat again. A thumb rests on my jaw, and he squeezes the four fingers wrapped around my neck. “Your breath.” His lips are on mine and he kisses me without letting up on the pressure until I squirm.

I don’t want it to stop, but my body forces me.

“Every. Fucking. Thing. Cookie. I want it.” Calum releases me and pulls the shirt off his back. His shoes and pants quickly follow, and I stare at his hard cock. The silver balls glisten against the harsh bathroom lighting as he turns on the shower. All of the jets spray at once and rain down from the ceiling and sides. White marble with thin silver lines and soft white stone insets cover the space.

I’m dragged inside.

His thigh spreads my legs apart. My feet lift off the ground just enough that my toes can touch the floor. He braces me against the wall, using his hand splayed across my stomach to pin me there.

I love being at his mercy, which is insane because I feared it with Chad. This is different. Calum loves me, and I think I love him too.

“Do you trust me, Georgie?”

Water runs off his dark lashes, and his hair falls to the side, wet and messy. His lips are full and parted, sitting above that faint chin dimple. White teeth shine from his mouth, a wolf in disguise under all those colorful tattoos. A freaking killer. Do I trust him? “I do.”

Hungry blue eyes lock on my neck. He wants all of me, and as pathetic as it might be, I want to give myself to him. His fingers tighten, and my hands instinctively fly up to grab at them. “Keep your hands there, tap three times with your finger if it’s too much.”

I don’t get any more of a chance to respond before he’s deep inside me. His movements are swift like when we spar in the gym. They might all be murderers, but Calum is a fighter. He shows that in every move he makes, including when he fucks.

I was soaking wet from his touches, and the way he slides in so that I can feel every hard inch makes me gasp. He hits my G-spot, his tip piercing it with every drag out of me. The two side balls rub deep inside my core, and I’m whimpering after three thrusts.

His eyes are glued to my mouth, and my lips part in his clutch. It’s almost painful as my air is cut off. I instinctively try to gasp, but his grip is too tight, nothing is getting past my throat. He times my attempts at breathing with his body’s thrusts, like he’s punishing me for trying to breathe without his permission. My body is pushed up with his movements. He’s taking my air and using me up exactly how he wants.

The second my vision goes black; his gravelly voice fills the room with his dirty words. “I love pounding your pussy, cookie. You take me so good. Your cunt is perfect. Made exactly for me to use.” Fingers loosen after each word, giving me a moment of reprieve.

I don’t want it. I want to go completely over the edge with Calum, and anywhere else he will take me. He’s right, I am made for him.

He continues to shove into me, telling me how good I am. It should be demeaning or something like that, but he can use me however he wants if it feels this good.

My insides start shaking, and I’m moaning in between gasps.

“The pressure is going to increase when you come on my cock. Scream for me.” He slams into me again, no mercy on my body.

I do scream his name, pant, basically lose all control over my body and my mind. Leaning into his grip, I welcome the burn, his strength, his complete ownership. A sob leaves my mouth when I come. It’s fierce and unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

Calum unloads into me while I continue to shake around him.

Blue-black lines cross my vision without air. He lets up on his hold, leaning on either side of me propped up by his hands. My feet return to the shower floor, but he doesn’t slide out of me. Even after that, he’s half hard. I look up at him. He’s so close, and the steam swirls around him. His eyes are closed, and I work to catch my breath.

“Georgia, I love you.”

I curl into his slick body, and the movement makes his cum slide down my thigh.

He pulls out of me and puts his forehead on mine.

“Me too.”

Calum washes my hair and body, whispering all the sweet things he knows. I let him. I like it when he takes care of me. He wraps my body in a fresh towel and puts my hair in a smaller one. Once satisfied I’m dry, he removes my towel, and we fall into bed. I faintly remember this is complicated and that we are naked in his brother’s bed before sleep takes me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

GEORGIE

Keeper and Calum went to check something, whatever that means, so I make my way to the living room. I want to stare at the tree and turn on Hallmark. My body sighs at the warm fuzzy blanket. I curl into a ball on the couch and pull it up to my neck, snuggling in. After the last few months, I will never take for granted a warm place to sleep. My eyes are misty when I take in this house and the room. The tree is over fourteen feet tall, and it’s perfect from the star to the popcorn garland. I tear my eyes away from it when I see Zeke walk in.

He moves like the rest of them, silently, but Zeke is different. Calum and Keeper are all cocky, expecting everyone to do as they say, but his presence is more than that. It’s required. Pulling me in so deep with no release. When I’m around him, I go willingly to his coldness. I know there is more underneath all of him and I’m desperate to find it. Or have him. I’m desperate either way.