Page 54 of Dark Christmas

This is the kind of moment where everything else fades. Just me and him, no past, no Bratva, no danger—justus.

We start on the couch, lips locked, hands roaming, but it’s not enough. Without a word, we shift toward the window, where the moonlight spills in, casting a soft, silvery glow over everything. It’s the kind of lighting that makes it feel unreal, too perfect to be happening.

He’s behind me before I can catch my breath, his body heat melting into mine. I feel his hands on my hips, strong, commanding. Before I know it, he’s slipping into me, his cock filling me up, that delicious stretch I can never get enough of. I let out a shaky moan, pushing back against him, needing more.

He tugs my hair, hard enough to make me gasp, but just enough to keep it on that perfect edge between pleasure and pain.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmurs against my ear, his voice low and rough, sending a wave of heat through me. “You love how I make you feel.”

A shiver runs down my spine as I brace myself against the window frame, staring out at the city glowing in the moonlight. But all I can focus on is him, his body pressed tight against mine,the way he fills me so completely.

He drives into me harder, his grip tightening on my hips. “Look at you,” he growls, his voice thick with need. “Your pussy’s so perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”

My breath catches in my throat as the pleasure builds. “Melor…” I manage to whisper, half lost in the feeling, my body trembling as he moves against me, each thrust more intense than the last.

“You love how I fuck you, don’t you?” he asks, his one hand pulling my hair just enough to make me arch. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“So much,” I gasp, completely lost to him. “I love the way you fuck me, the way you fill me up.” His cock drives into me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Then beg for it,” his voice a rough command against my skin.

And I do, my voice breathless. “Please, Melor… please.”

He keeps going, his rhythm relentless, his dirty talk only fueling the fire. “You’re so close, aren’t you?” he growls, his voice thick with need. “I can feel it. Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

I crash into the orgasm, my body tightening around him as waves of pleasure wash over me. My moans fill the room, and I can’t help but beg him to come with me, but he’s not done yet.

I turn around and we kiss again, deep and hungry, before I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “Take off your clothes and go sit on the couch,” I whisper.

I smile at him mischievously as his own grin widens, as he slips out of his clothes, moving to the couch like I told him to.

I watch him, my eyes lingering on his gorgeous, hard cock, standing tall and ready for me.

“Ask nicely,” I tease, my smile turning playful.

He chuckles. “Pretty please? With sugar on top.”

With that, I lower myself down, his cock sliding inside me, splitting me in two in the best possible way.

Chapter 27

Melor

“Fuck, Amelia.”

She’s on top of me, starting to ride, and all I can do is watch her.

The way she moves, the way she looks at me—God, it’s too much. I’ve never been the kind of man to let someone else take control, but with her, I want it. Ineedit.

My hands grip her hips as she starts to move. Her heat surrounds me, and every time she slides down, it’s like she’s pulling me deeper into something I can’t escape—something I don’twantto escape.

“You feel so fucking good,” I mutter, my voice rough, almost desperate. I’m not used to feeling this way, this vulnerable. I’m a man who dominates, who takes what he wants, but with Amelia, it’s different. She’s different.

She’s so wet, and every time she slides down onto me, I’m drowning in the heat of her. The sight of my cock disappearing into her perfectly tight pussy over and over is enough to drive me insane. Her hips roll, and her body arches. She’s in completecontrol, and I can’t take my eyes off her.

I run my hands over her thighs, her ass, pulling her tighter against me. I’m caught up in her. Trapped. Every movement she makes is like a drug, and I can’t get enough.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” I mutter. I mean it, too—not just how she looks but how she moves, the control she takes, the power she wields.