Page 91 of Santa's Baby

I arch my back as he laps at my tits, my breaths already ragged from the way he’s using my pussy.

“It wasn’t a game,” I say. “It was all real. Everything is real with you. There’s no Creamgirl here anymore. It’s just me.”

He puts his face up to mine, brushing my lips with his.

“I’m glad about that, because Tiffany is the one I want, princess. She’s the one I need.”

The contrast in him is like yin and yang. The brutal Reuben from last night, who treated me like a slut while I cried and screamed, and the loving, tender Reuben in bed with me this morning.

I’m in love with all of his flavours. Every single one of them.

“You’ll drive me mad with the teasing,” I tell him as he pulls out a little way and strokes his thumb over my clit.

“Good. I want you needing me so bad, it drives you to insanity.”

“We’re already long past the insanity point,” I say, and pull him in for a kiss.

My tongue sweeps against his so softly, it’s like a brush of wet velvet. Our kiss is delicate but desperate, both at once. A fascination that captures us like moths to a flame.

“Do it, Reuben,” I whisper against his lips. “Fuck my bruised cunt nice and hard.”

“No,” he says. “I’m going to fuck your bruised cunt so slowly you’ll be begging to come.”

He stays true to his word, in complete control of every flex and every plunge. He’s a man of steel.

Only he wasn’t so calm and calculated when we first got home last night, and he dragged me through to the living room. There was no calmness in him as he shot his load into my petulant face after I talked about taking other men’s cocks.

Jealousy.

I can’t help myself wanting more. I’m moaning at the thought of that fire in his eyes.

Praise and jealousy from a man like Reuben Sinclair is enough to light up the world.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, princess,” he says, sliding his cock in slowly enough that I moan for more. “You’d be a terrible poker player. Your face is too beautifully expressive.”

I look into his gorgeous dark eyes.

“I’m thinking about how annoyingly fucking good your cock feels.”

He won’t break the stare.

“Don’t lie to me. You’re thinking about more than that.”

“I’m not.” I buck my hips. “It is annoyingly good, and you know it. You like driving me insane, don’t you?”

“I think we’re both insane. You said it yourself. It’s very clear to see.”

I wrap my legs around him, trying to spur him on. The slow builds are always the mightiest, but so infuriating when you’re a gagging bitch wanting a hit of cum.

“What are you really thinking about?” he asks again.

I wish I could tell him. I want to.

I want to share my deepest everything with him, but I’m still too scared to be that vulnerable. I want to tell him about my hurt and devastation when my relationship with Kian fell to pieces,and how I lost my head after the miscarriage that followed. How I swore I didn’t want anything serious again. No risks, no depth, nothing but dirty, filthy fucking. Carnal pleasure and a healthy bank account.

No stress.

No soul.