Page 28 of Dark Christmas

I lay back, looking up at her, and command, “I want you to ride me.”

Her lips curve into a sly grin as she straddles me. She takes hold of my cock and starts lowering herself down, her wet heat sheathing me inch by inch.

Fucking hell, it’s perfect. I can feel every inch of her as she sinks onto me, tight and warm, her pussy stretching to take me in. Her skin is flushed, her eyes locked on mine as she moves, slow and deliberate.

Her body trembles as she bottoms out. I grab her hips, holding her there, feeling her pulsing around me, and I can’t get enough of the way she gives into me with that intoxicating mix of submission and control.

She rides me slowly at first, taking her time, and I enjoy every damn second of it.

I watch as her hips roll in a slow, steady rhythm, grinding down on me. Her breasts bounce with each movement, and I reach up, grabbing them, squeezing just enough to make her moan. She arches her back, her lips parting as she gasps, a soft, breathy sound escaping her throat that drives me wild.

Her hands press against my chest, and she picks up the pace, her thighs trembling as she moves faster. The slick heat of her isincredible, gripping me with every thrust, tight and wet. I move my hands down to her hips, guiding her as she rides me harder, the friction building between us.

Her breaths come quicker, little moans and gasps spilling from her lips, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. She starts to buck her hips harder, grinding down on me with more force, chasing her own release. I can feel her getting closer, her movements more frantic, her pussy clenching tighter around me as she gets lost in it, riding the edge of her climax. I sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her against me.

I growl into her ear, "Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart on my cock. Do it now."

She gasps, her whole body tightening around me, and then it hits—she comes hard, her pussy gripping me like a vice, squeezing me with every pulse. I lose myself in her, my own release slamming through me at the same time. It’s like every nerve in my body is on fire, every muscle tense as I drive up into her, filling her as she shudders and shakes in my arms.

She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders, her body trembling against mine as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.

Her hips slow as we both catch our breath. She rests her head on my shoulder, her body limp against mine. I hold her there, still deep inside her, feeling her heartbeat slowly return to normal.

For a moment, I’m struck by how this connection feels, like we’ve crossed a line we can’t come back from.

Whatever it is, it’s something I didn’t expect.

Chapter 15

Amelia

“Ineed answers.”

We’re back in the house, in bed, adrenaline still buzzing in my veins, and I’m trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

How did I go from fearing for my life to this?

I glance over at him, taking in the sight of his body, sculpted like he was born in a gym, all hard lines and muscle. My mind flashes back to earlier—how calm and collected he was during the home invasion. The man killed someone, and yet he’s acting as if nothing happened.

Whodoesthat? And why am I not running for the hills right now?

He turns his head, eyes catching mine. “What kind of answers are you looking for?”

“You know what kind.”

He nods, ready to drop the real details now, and sits up. I do the same, turning and putting a little space between us so that Ican face him directly. After everything he’s already told me, I’m bracing for some next-level shit. I now know that he was in the Bratva, the Russian Mafia. But whatever he’s about to say next feels even heavier.

He takes a deep breath. “My family wasn’t just involved with the Bratva. We ran it. My father and grandfather were leaders. I was born into it. I was supposed to succeed them, to run it one day.”

I blink, trying to wrap my head around what he’s telling me.

“I hated it,” he goes on. “The control, the way they made choices for me. So, I bailed. Got out as soon as I could.”

“That couldn’t have been easy,” I say softly.

“No. It wasn’t. My parents, my grandparents—they’re all dead,” he says, his voice flat. “I don’t have any family left in the U.S. anymore.”

I chew my lip, trying to process it all. “So, you left, just like that?”