Page 39 of Dirty Little Christmas

"Alaric," she whispers, her expression softening.

"It's true. Maybe it shouldn't be, but it is."

A sweet smile lights her up until she glows brighter than the Christmas star. "I don't have a gift for you."

"You're going to the party with me. That's gift enough."

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, her gaze darting over my shoulder as if to ensure we're alone. "Maybe I do have one thing," she whispers, her gaze coming back to me.

"Yeah?" I grin, amused by how fucking cute she is, like a little girl with her hand in the cookie jar. I guess she doesn't realize that I make the fucking rules around here. No one will say a word about the two of us. Perhaps they should. I'm the boss. She's an intern. There's a blatant power imbalance. I don't fucking know. That's a discussion for another day. But she's mine, and I'm claiming her.

She places one hand on my chest and the other on my shoulder, rising on her toes. I hook an arm around her waist, anchoring her to me. Her lips touch mine in a featherlight kiss.

It's not nearly enough for me. Not when I want every piece of this girl. So I take more like the greedy bastard I am.

My tongue flicks out, touching her bottom lip. She tastes like sugar.

I groan, pulling her closer.

She doesn't tell me no. Her small hand slides up my chest, wrapping around my shoulder. A soft moan whispers from her lips.

That sounds—so fucking sweet, so fucking innocent—breaks me. I spear my hand into her hair and drink from her lips like she's oxygen. Electricity surges between us, catching and consuming us both.

"Alaric," she gasps, clawing at my shoulders. "Please."

I lift her in my arms, spinning to pin her against the wall. She sobs in frustration, trying to pull her hands from mine when I clasp them over her head.

"Nu-uh," I mutter, bending my head to kiss along her cleavage. With her arms up, the tops of her breasts spill out, pale and perfect. I nip her skin, making her cry out. "You're right where I want you, sweet December."

"Oh, God."

I bite her nipple through her dress, skimming my free hand down her body. I need to know how wet she is for me right now. I may lose my goddamn mind if I don't know in two seconds.

"Has anyone ever touched my cunt before, December?"

"I...I..."

I bite her nipple again, harder this time. A tiny punishment for not answering. A tiny reward for making me crazy.

"No one!" she cries.

"Ah, fuck." I rock my hips into hers, letting her feel how hard she makes me as I bring my mouth to her ear. "No one has touched what belongs to you, either, angel."

I've been waiting. Half the time, I wasn't even sure what I was waiting for. But I waited anyway.

"Alaric," she moans.

I drag her dress up her hips, exposing her panties to the room. Of course they have little Christmas trees on them. Of coursethey do. Somehow, that's even sexier to me than any lingerie. The wet spot is obvious. My sweet angel is drenched.

I shove my hand into her panties, growling as I feel her bare cunt and her slick juices against my fingers.

She nearly catapults out of my arms.

"You're soaked for me."

"Yes," she sobs, her head moving restlessly against the wall. "Please, Alaric. Please make it better."

"Poor little December," I croon, parting her folds with my thumb. "Do you need to come?"