His fingers push inside me again while his mouth works my clit and I shatter, crying out his name. His groan vibrates against my sensitive clit. He loves that he’s the only one who can make me lose control like this.
Before I can catch my breath, he’s pulling me up and lifting me into his arms. He puts me down in front of the tree, with wrapping paper and pine needles scattered around us.
“On your knees, Angel. Face Holly.”
The command in his voice sends another wave of heat through me. I obey, positioning myself on my hands and knees, staring directly at the skeleton’s empty eye sockets.
“Perfect.” He runs his hands down my spine, and grips my hips with a possessive bite. “Look at her. Our Holly. She’s going to watch you fall apart.”
I feel him position himself behind me, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance.
“You’re going to look at our skeleton,” he says, his voice rough with need, “while I remind you exactly who you belong to.”
I don’t have time to wrap my head around what his words do to me. He pushes inside in one hard thrust and I cry out at the fullness, fisting the wrapping paper beneath me.
“That’s it. Take all of me.” His grip on my hips is bruising but I love it. “ I need you. Need to feel you alive around me.”
“Yes,” I cry. “Use me.”
He pumps into me so hard and deep, each thrust drives me forward, making me stare directly into Holly’s gaping grin. Onehand grips my hip while the other reaches around to play with my clit, and the dual sensation has me trembling.
“Keep your eyes on her,” he reminds me when I start to lose focus. “Look at what we’re building. Our life. Our home. Our fucked up perfect future. She’s part of it now.”
I see the tree shake as he pulls something off it. It feels like cool metal as he trails it down my spine. An ornament or a hook? Whatever it is, it’s making me shiver from the sensation.
“Should I mark you with this hook, Angel?” The hook drags across my skin. “Make sure everyone at dinner tonight knows you’re mine?”
“Yes.” The word comes out breathless. “Do it… please.”
He traces patterns across my back and up my neck with the metal while he fucks me harder, his breathing growing more and more ragged with each thrust. Pine needles are pressed into my palms. It smells like Christmas mixing with the musk of sex and the peppermint schnapps still on our breath.
He presses the hook into me hard enough to break skin, and it feels so good with him deep inside me.
“You feel so fucking good, baby. Come for me. Come around my cock.”
The combination of his words, his cock, the hook dragging across my skin, Holly’s gaze… it’s too much.
I explode around him, my whole body shaking with the force of it. “Damon!” His name tears from my throat just as I feel him shudder, groaning as he empties himself inside me.
We collapse together onto the floor, pine needles and wrapping paper stuck to our sweaty skin, completely wrecked.
“Merry Christmas, Holly,” I gasp, still staring at the skeleton. “Oh, and you too.”
Damon’s laugh rumbles against my back. “You’re completely insane.”
“You started it.”
“Best Christmas ever,” he murmurs against my neck, still buried inside me.
He finally—reluctantly—pulls out, and we both groan at the loss. But he tugs me against his chest, all warm and cozy, wrapping the blanket around us as we lay there among the Christmas carnage.
We get up to shower a little while later—which turns into another round, because even in my plastic shower cap, Damon can’t keep his hands off me. By the time we’re actually dressed—me in black jeans and a black Christmas sweater with white skulls and red bows, him in the hideous Freddy Krueger monstrosity—we’re definitely running late.
“I still can’t believe you’re making me wear this,” he says, staring at his reflection.
“You look festive.” He shoots me a look. “And hot… so hot.”
“I look like Christmas murdered a horror icon.”
