Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
"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 course they 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?"
"Y-yes."
"Then come," I growl. "But you do it with your eyes on me and my name on your lips."
Her gaze flies to mine, her eyes so dilated with lust they're little more than a sea of blue-rimmed black.
I press my thumb to her hard clit, staring at her. Memorizing her. I want this moment burned into my brain.
"Alaric," she moans.
I grind my thumb against her clit, watching her unravel. She falls quickly, too needy to hold it off. Fuck. How long has she been dreaming about this? Longer than she should have been, I think.
A decadent moan rolls across the room, setting my blood on fire as her expression melts to pure bliss. She trembles in my arms, melting into a pool of liquid sex.
Fuck me. She's exactly what I would have asked for for Christmas had I thought to ask for anything. I'm asking now. I want this temptress in my bed and in my life, permanently.
Chapter Seven
December
"Oh, wow," I whisper, coming to a dead stop as Alaric leads me off the elevator. The showroom at Daphne Parrish & Co has been transformed into a winter wonderland. Large snowflakes dangle from the ceiling on invisible wire, sparkling in the lights. One entire side of the room is now Santa's workshop. Blaze sits on an opulent throne with Georgia standing beside him. They're the most fashionable Santa and elf I've ever seen.
A massive Christmas tree shoots toward the ceiling in the center of the room, the sheer size of it overwhelming. Gorgeous red and black ornaments with the Daphne Parrish & Co logo on them glitter from the branches between twinkling lights and fluffy tinsel. The fresh scent of pine fills the room, making it truly feel like Christmas, perhaps for the first time all year.
"It's so beautiful," I whisper to Alaric.