Page 19

“Nathan!” I’m half turned on and half ready to combust. “Did you just spank me?”

“What if I did?” He palms my ass, squeezing like he owns it, which, let’s be honest, he basically does at this point. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.” I actually enjoyed it way more than I thought I would. “I’m telling you to do it a little harder next time.” I’m not sure who’s more shocked by my words—him or me.

“You’re going to keep me on my toes, baby,” he growls against my neck. I’m already soaked, and he hasn’t even gotten me halfway naked yet.

Nathan nips at my earlobe, his breath hot as hell. “You want more?” His hand slides back to cup my ass, fingers digging in. “You just tell me what you want, Roni. I’ll give you everything.”

I shudder. My brain-to-mouth filter barely functions. “I want you to fuck me right here on the couch in front of the Christmas tree.” Oh my God, did I just say that out loud?

“Good girl.” That’s all I get for a warning before he hauls me closer. His huge hand runs up the inside of my thigh, knuckles bumping the soaked lace of my thong. He lets out a low whistle. “These are fucking perfect. I’m going to buy you at least twenty more pairs.”

He doesn’t waste any more time. In one smooth move, he yanks the thong aside and runs his thumb right over my clit, and I nearly combust. My hips jerk, and I let out this embarrassing squeak, but he just grins like the evil overlord of Christmas sexy-times. He rubs my clit again, thumb circling slowly, and I swear to God, I’m not going to survive Christmas Eve.

Holy. Freaking. Hell.

My hips buck, and the thong is so tight, the friction makes everything twice as intense. I dig my nails into his shoulders as Nathan rips the thong off and slides two thick fingers through my folds. His fingers are so warm, and when his thumb comes back to my clit, I nearly black out.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, my insides going hot and shaky. I try to hold on, but his hand is so big and strong it pins me right there, straddling his lap like I’m meant to live here. My thighs shake as he brings me to not one but two orgasms. I’m gasping, body limp, brain absolutely fried from how fast and hard Nathan just made me come.

But he’s not even close to done.

Nathan yanks his sweats down, and his cock springs free, thick and heavy and leaking at the tip. Holy hell, it’s even hotter than I remember. I want it. I want him. Now.

He lifts me like I weigh nothing, hands gripping my hips, and slams me down onto his rock-hard erection in one smooth move. I try to scream, but his huge cock snatches the words right from my throat as he fills me to the absolute max. The stretch is delicious, filthy, perfect. I grasp his shoulders and ride the wave as he buries himself so deep I see freaking stars.

He groans, grabs my ass, and starts bouncing me in his lap, hard enough to make the ornaments on the tree rattle. And I love it.

Nathan’s hands grip my hips tighter, fingertips digging in, steering every single move.

He rips my T-shirt over my head and leans back, giving himself a front row seat to my boobs jiggling all over the place. His stare is shameless, hungry, borderline feral. “Jesus, baby.” He palms my boobs with both hands and worships them while I ride him like a woman possessed. My nipples go instantly hard, and Nathan groans again, rough and wild and just for me. He tweaks one between his fingers, and my head falls back.

He latches onto my nipple, sucking hard while he bounces me on his cock. I might just pass out from how freaking good it feels. The tree lights blur and spin in my vision. All I can do is hold on and moan his name.

“Oh my God.” Nathan’s cock pounds into me so deep and hard I see actual freaking lights. “Nate, I can’t—I’m going to⁠—”

“Come for me, baby.” His voice is pure gravel as he slams me down on his cock again.

The orgasm rips through me, wild and bright as he explodes inside me, cock pulsing and fingers digging into my ass. Best Christmas ever!

When I drag myself back to work after two weeks off and a wonderful Christmas spent with Nathan, the idea of returning to that gray office feels like a joke. I catch myself counting the minutes until I can get home again, where everything is easy and right.

One late afternoon, the sunset hits the trees behind the house in this ridiculous, painterly way that makes the whole backyard look like it was designed for an Instagram thirst trap. I’m sprawled on the porch swing, feet tucked under a Snoopy Christmas blanket, with a glass of my favorite wine in my hand. Nathan is at the railing, phone in one hand, his other hand shoved in his pocket. He’s handling club business, but every minute or two, he looks over at me like he’s making sure I haven’t wandered off.

Eventually, he puts the phone away and sits down next to me. For a second, neither of us says anything. The world feels suspended, perfect.

Nathan’s voice breaks the silence, soft and honest. “I never thought I’d share this place with anyone.”

I glance at him. He’s staring straight ahead, like he’s worried I’ll bolt if he meets my eyes.

He keeps going. “I bought it after the club took off. Wanted somewhere that felt like mine, you know? Spent years keeping it perfect. Never had anyone out here except Eamon.”

I put my glass down and shift closer, blanket pooling in my lap.

He goes on, voice lower. “Last week, I was out here and realized all the food in the fridge was shit you liked. There was a pair of your socks by the door and some reality show paused on the TV. It hit me—this place isn’t mine anymore. It’s ours.” He glances over, finally meeting my eyes. “And I fucking love it.”

My throat nearly closes up. I want to say something cool and witty, but I’m too busy trying not to tear up.

Instead, I say, “I’m afraid I’m going to screw it up.”

Nathan frowns. “You’re not.”

“You don’t know that.” My voice is tiny, uncharacteristically shaky. “Sometimes it feels like, if I blink too hard, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone, or it’ll turn out this was all just a dream.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second. He just reaches out, cups my cheek in his big, warm hand, and rubs his thumb along my jaw.

“It’s fucking real.” The words are steady, absolute. “You’re the only thing that’s ever felt permanent in my entire life.” He lets his hand drop to my lap, trapping both my hands in his. “We’re in this together, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never regret it.”

God, this man. He says stuff like that with no hint of drama, just plain fact, like he’s reciting a weather forecast.