Page 14 of A Ryan Christmas


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“He just grabbed me. I’m fine,” I say, subconsciously rubbing at the skin.

“I was protecting her. She’s fucking scared of you.”

Jason may have well just poured gasoline over an open flame as Shane’s anger rips through him like an inferno. In one swift move, he has Jason by the throat. Spinning him around, he presses him against the door.

“What did you just fucking say to me?”

“She’s fucking scared of you,” Jason snarls. “She was shaking when I came in here.”

I close my eyes and pray for Jason to pass out or something because I cannot believe how one person can be so utterly stupid.

“Because you just locked her in a fucking room, you stupid cunt!” Shane squeezes Jason’s throat tighter, making his face turn purple.

“She’s not your property, man,” Jason croaks. “You don’t get to treat her like that.”

Instead of tearing his throat out like I expected, Shane lets him go. And then he starts to laugh, and I can’t imagine any scenario where this is a good thing.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Shane says to me as Jason rubs at the raw skin on his throat.

Obediently, I take a few steps until I’m standing by his side.

“Tell this fuckwit who you belong to.”

I look Jason in the eyes as I take hold of Shane’s hand. “I belong to him and I like it that way. You’re not rescuing me from him, asshole.”

Jason blinks, looking between me and Shane.

“You think she’s fucking scared of me?” Shane laughs again.

“She can say what she likes now, but she was trembling when she heard you coming through that door.”

Shane grabs his throat again. “Yeah? That’s because my girl is a nice person and she doesn’t want me to rip your fucking heart out and feed it to you while it’s still beating,” he snarls before pushing Jason onto a chair nearby.

Picking up some of the Christmas lights we had left over from decorating the club from the floor, Shane starts to wind the length around Jason’s chest, tying him to the chair. He struggles and curses but he’s no match for a determined Ryan brother and a moment later, Jason’s arms are pinned to his sides and he’s bound tightly.

He struggles for a few moments longer, panting for breath as he tries to work himself free. But Shane can tie a knot better than anyone else I know. I have had plenty of first hand experience of his binding skills and there is no way Jason is getting out of those Christmas lights unless Shane wants him to.

Finally, accepting defeat, he mutters under his breath and stops wriggling, glaring at the two of us instead.

“Shall I show you how scared my girl is of me, Jason?” Shane snarls, taking my hand and leading me over to the desk.

I swallow hard as his fingers grip mine, wondering what the hell is going through his devious mind.

He taps the edge of Conor’s huge desk. “Sit here, sweetheart.”

I look into his eyes, trying to read his mind, but I do as he tells me because I trust him completely. When I’m perched on the edge of the desk with my back to Jason, Shane presses his lips against my ear. “I won’t let him see anything.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

He nudges my thighs apart with his knee until he’s standing between them. Sliding one hand beneath my skirt and up my inner thigh, he keeps his eyes on Jason. Then he brushes his free hand up my arm and over the curve of my breast, pushing me slightly. “Lean back for me.”

I plant my palms on the desk and lean back a little as his hand between my thighs glides higher. When his fingertips brush my panties, my breath hitches in my throat. He tugs the fabric aside, sliding a finger through my slickness.

“So fucking wet,” he hisses as he pushes one finger inside me.

“Shane,” I moan softy as my walls ripple and squeeze around him.

“Fucking terrified of me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he chuckles darkly as he starts to lazily finger fuck me.

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