Dad Bods and Blizzards (Dad Bod Christmas #1)

6. Six

Six

Naomi

Griz pulls my hands away, and for a moment, I think he’s stopping me again. But he shifts my wrists to contain them with one hand as he turns me so my back is against his front.

He tightens his grip, sending adrenaline coursing through me. Our visibility to the others in the club gives me courage. Nothing bad can happen. Or am I na?ve about that too?

The full-wall mirror provides a heart-stopping view of how his body dwarfs mine. He leans down and kisses my neck. “We may have won you, but you own us, Little Lamb.”

I flinch at the interesting nickname and overzealous statement. “Little Lamb?” I question, but my voice is barely above a whisper.

Griz’s gaze locks onto mine in the reflection, devoid of any threat. His grip is firm yet gentle. Again, no threat. I feel safer with him than with a father who would… No, I have to stop thinking about him and figure out who these guys are.

“You’re not afraid of the big bad wolf, are you?” His beard tickles my skin as he peers at my reflection from where his lips touch my neck.

The big bad wolf? Some primal part of me wants to be ravaged by the beast—and I have three at my disposal.

“You haven’t given me anything to be afraid of.” I tilt my head away from him, exposing my neck, which is rewarded with a kiss and a nip. The complexity I fail to understand is how I can feel more of a threat from my father than from them.

He drags a finger between my breasts, forcing the fabric to fall open further. “I want to see you.” He rights himself behind me and looks at Tubs and then Woody. “Are you two staying for this?”

Why else would they be in the room?

“I’m in this,” Woody says.

“A hundred percent with you,” Tubs confirms.

“Then undo her buttons.”

Tubs steps in front of me, his eyes searching mine. His hands hover in front of my belly, his eyebrows raised in question. I nod.

He pushes the next button through the hole, his fingers brushing against my skin like he’s unwrapping something precious.

With my arms pinned behind my back, my breasts thrust shamelessly, exposing the bump of my beaded nipples through my black silky bra.

Continuing down the line of buttons, his movements slow and deliberate, he reveals more of me with each one. The buttons in front of my sex give him ample opportunity to send fireworks through my body, and I finally breathe a sigh of relief when he finishes the final button at mid-thigh.

Griz’s voice rumbles over me. “Move. I have to see her.”

Tubs steps aside without a word, my dress open. Griz’s gaze meets mine in the mirror, his eyes dark and intense, before he slowly works his way down my body.

His scrutiny is intense, intimate, and strangely empowering. I’m no longer the young adult who let people control her, I’m the woman who’s keeping her vow to herself.

Woody rubs a hand over his cock and mutters what I believe is a drawn out “Fuck.” Interesting that none of them have undressed.

“I also plan on tasting you, Little Lamb. Will that make you use the safeword?” Griz drags his teethe over my neck, his kiss morphing into more. He’s licking and sucking on my neck. He’s ravenous.

My body is on fire. I wiggle and take a deep breath, my heart pounding. He has to be able to feel it. I say, “I trust you. Don’t keep asking. Tell me what the big bad wolf really wants.”

Griz laughs, and my shoulders relax. I hadn’t realized I’d been harboring so much tension.

“Princess has a greedy side.” Tubs laughs. “We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“Get her panties off,” Griz demands, his hand keeping me firmly in place.

Woody steps forward, his fingers dipping into my waistband. He slides them slowly down my legs, helping me step out of them with my heels on. The cool air hits my wet center, sending a shiver up my spine. I’m naked except for my bra, heels, and the bits of dress that have fallen away from my shoulders. Standing between three fully clothed men is a trippy power dynamic.

Woody brings my panties to his nose, inhaling deeply. It’s such a primal, intimate act that I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. Oh no! I forgot to run to the bathroom to freshen up.

Judging by his closed eyes and his lingering obsession, he’s not deterred.

“Switch with me,” Griz orders, standing to his full height.

Woody pockets my panties as he and Tubs move behind me and take my wrists from Griz.

Woody starts to slide my dress over my hands, but Tubs stops him, wrapping the fabric to bind my wrists.

Is this how I’ll make history? How can misbehaving seem so wrong and yet be the exact thing I want—to be taken? To be at their mercy. To be theirs.

Griz kneels in front of me, looking up at me from this submissive position. He’s anything but submissive. “Spread your legs, Little Lamb,” he commands, his hands steadying my hips.

I do as he says, my heels clicking on the floor as I widen my stance. He leans in, his tongue starting at my knee, licking slowly up my leg. The tickle of his beard sends goosebumps through my body.

He’s so close to where I want him, but he avoids it, teasing me. His hot breath grazes my sex, but he doesn’t touch it. I squirm, trying to move closer to no avail.

“Griz,” I whimper, my voice needy, desperate.

He looks up at me, a wicked smile on his face. “Patience, Little Lamb.”

He draws his tongue lazily to my sex, a slow, deliberate lick that sends a freight train of pleasure through me. My body tenses at the unexpected sensation.

His chuckle rumbles against my sex a mere second before his tongue delves deeper, winding my looming orgasm tighter in ways I’ve never accomplished on my own.

His movements are confident, like he knows my body better than I do. He licks and sucks, his beard adding a layer of sensation. I squirm, trying to get closer, needing more.

He grips my hips tighter, holding me, controlling the pace.

My arms strain against my binding. Tubs and Woody fortify their other touches on my waist and shoulders, ensuring I can’t wiggle free from my dress.

Hoping to encourage him, I say, “You’ve seen me, tasted me… Now what?”

He growls against me, the vibration sending me dangerously close to release. His tongue flicks my clit. My body shakes. Another flick. I gasp and shake. He takes his time driving me insane with bursts of pleasure, just enough time in between that he doesn’t push me over the edge.

I glance at the full-wall window—at the gathering audience, embracing the uncanny safety of the situation. One word and I could end this, but this is just my beginning.

“You want them to watch me eat you, Little Lamb?”

“I want them to watch you ravish me.”

He returns his mouth to my sex and slides a finger inside. I lose control.

My breath hitches, and I splinter. My sex tightens on his finger. My hips buck wildly against his tongue. Waves of pleasure crash over me as he takes my release to levels I’ve never achieved—as if I’ve never found a full orgasm and he’s finishing every inferior orgasm I’ve started.

I cry out, my body convulsing, falling into the men behind me.

Griz doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. He knows I have more. My mind goes blank.

Euphoria should be my new norm.

The warmth of the firm bodies behind me and Griz embracing me from his kneeling position, keep me safe as I slowly sink back to reality.

He presses a soft kiss to my sex, a surprisingly tender gesture, not a big bad one. Then he looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, his beard glistening with my arousal.

“I want your innocence, Little Lamb.”

This is it. Sex. I can’t speak, can’t form words. All I can do is stare—and hope that I’m on the right side of history.