Filthy Rich Santas

15. Lana

15

LANA

I almost feel greedy as arousal pools in my core while I watch Ryder and Beckett jerk off. They just gave me three orgasms, and that’s true even if it was my own hand that delivered them.

I feel sated. Boneless. More satisfied than I can ever remember being after sex.

But I still want more.

“What do you want now, freckles?” Tristan whispers in my ear, his hands moving lazily over my body. “Tell us.”

His cock throbs under my ass, and a mouthwatering image flashes through my mind.

One that makes me blush.

“Um, you decide.”

Beckett’s eyes flare with heat and Ryder’s grin turns absolutely wicked, but Tristan just chuckles.

“I am deciding,” he says. “We’re supposed to help you figure out what you like, so you have to tell us what you want. Don’t be shy. You already told us that you’re green for more, but that’s not good enough. Not when it comes to kink. Not when we haven’t already negotiated your limits for this scene.”

I lick my lips. “This, um, this is a scene? It’s not real?”

“Scenes are real,” Beckett says in that gruff voice of his. “They’re agreed upon interactions where everyone gets what they need.”

“Which brings us back to communication.” Tristan’s thumbs brush over my nipples, sending a cascade of desire through me. “Good kink requires good communication. Being clear about what everyone involved actually wants isn’t just the best way to get it. It’s the only way. That’s when we have a green light.”

He rolls my nipples, then pinches them, and I arch up with a moan.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Ryder grunts, squeezing his cock.

“So, are you ready to tell us now?” Tristan asks. “What is it you want right now?”

“I want to go down on you,” I admit, feeling a little emboldened now that he’s spelled it out for me.

Tristan’s hands drop to my hips, and he pulls me down as he thrusts up against me. “You’re going to have to be more specific with that ‘you,’ freckles. There are three of us here to choose from.”

I lock eyes with Beckett. “I mean you.”

He groans so softly I would have missed it if I wasn’t staring at him, but I’m still feeling greedy, and Tristan told me I needed to communicate my wants and needs clearly, so I look at Ryder, my pussy clenching as I whisper, “And you.” Then I twist around to face Tristan. “And you.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, fisting my hair and grinding against my ass. “Greedy girl.”

“ Yes .”

“Our favorite kind.” Ryder starts to stroke himself again. “You gonna start with Tristan, love?”

“You decide,” I repeat, because that is what I want.

Tristan’s eyes flare. “Then get on your knees like a good girl,” he says, spreading his thighs and pushing me to my feet.

My heart starts to race as I stand up. Tristan keeps ahold of my robe as I do, and it slips off my shoulders, leaving me naked.

I inhale slowly, feeling both vulnerable and powerful with all three mens’ eyes on me, and when Tristan smacks my ass, sending a bolt of lust straight to my core, my arousal drips down my thighs.

But then a wave of self-consciousness washes over me.

The last person I was completely naked in front of was Wade, and when memories of some of the comments he used to make about how curvy I am start to intrude, I instinctively move my hands in front of my body, trying to cover up a little.

Beckett’s voice stops me. “No.”

The command in his tone is undeniable, and I immediately drop my hands.

“That’s it, love,” Ryder murmurs. “We want to see you. Still green.”

“Still green,” I whisper, mustering my courage as their eyes roam over me.

I turn and face Tristan, who’s rubbing the thick bulge of his cock through his pants as he leans back, watching me with hooded eyes.

He dips his chin toward the floor, a reminder that he told me to kneel, and I drop down and reach for his zipper, then hesitate. I’m not even sure what I’m waiting for until Tristan speaks again, giving me permission.

“Take me out,” he rasps. “I’ve been craving you all fucking day. Thinking about what you looked like in my bed this morning. Remembering those sexy noises you made.”

His hand covers mine, rubbing it over his cock. Then he moves my fingers back to his zipper.

I lower it, and he groans when his cock finally springs free, lifting his hips to help me get his pants down.

“That’s it. Good girl.” He puts a hand on the back of my head, guiding me forward. “Now take what you asked for. Suck me.”

My eyes flutter closed as the salty taste of him hits my lips, and I run my tongue around his cockhead—just as greedy as they accused me of being—before letting the heavy weight of his shaft slide over my tongue.

“Oh damn,” Tristan says, his thighs flexing under my hands.

“How does her mouth feel?” Ryder asks from behind me.

“Better than I imagined.” Tristan’s grip tightens, his fingers tunneling through my hair. “Can you take a little more?”

I look up at him, my lips stretched wide, and instead of trying to nod, I push closer, not stopping until he hits the back of my throat.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs. The praise sends heat through my veins as he cups my chin with his free hand, still holding me in place with the grip he has on my head.

I blink up at him, loving the way he’s taking control almost as much as I love how he’s staring down at me.

I bob up and down on his cock, feeling held in place just as much by his gaze as I do by his hands. And then, when he hits the back of my throat again, he holds me there for a moment.

“Good girl. Now swallow it. Let me into your throat. Can you do that? Breathe through your nose. That’s it. Fuck. Deeper.”

The command makes my pussy clench. It’s such a wonderfully filthy feeling, and I obey, relaxing my throat as he pushes my head down. My stomach flutters as I take him all, until I feel his balls on my chin and have my nose pressed to his neatly trimmed hair.

“Jesus Christ,” Beckett grunts, the sound of his hand moving on his cock a reminder that I’m being watched.

“ Fuck .” Tristan’s thighs turn to steel under my hands. “Do it again.”

I do, gagging a little, and his hold tightens as he slowly pulls back, then thrusts in again.

“That’s perfect. Fucking perfect,” he praises, his voice husky. “Do you want my cum?”

I moan, blinking away the tears that spill out of the corners of my eyes and hoping he’ll see the yes I can’t speak right now.

He does.

“Take it, then,” he orders. “Suck harder. Swallow me down.”

He pumps his hips, thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth, and I feel it when his control slips, his cock jerking. He holds me down again, and when his cum starts to spurt down the back of my throat, a bolt of pleasure ricochets through me, making me moan again.

“Holy shit,” Ryder mutters from behind me. “That’s fucking hot. I can see your pussy clenching, love. You like that, don’t you? Is it sucking Tristan’s cock that’s turning you on so much? The taste of his cum? Knowing you pleased him? Or is it the way he’s holding you down and making sure you don’t miss a drop of what you earned?”

I shudder with lust, wanting to answer all of it . But I still can’t, and somehow, that’s almost better.

I blink up at Tristan, not moving until he finally lets me.

“Green,” I whisper once his cock finally slides out of my mouth, my voice a little hoarse and my pussy so wet that I know the view Ryder and Beckett have right now must be obscene.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Who do you want next?”

“You know the answer to that,” Ryder answers before I can. “She wants us to decide. Come here, love. I know you like to tease me, but seeing you like this is a special kind of torture, so let’s not keep me waiting.”

I stand up on shaky legs, looking over at him.

The smile he gives me is pure fire.

He squeezes his cock as I walk over to him, my eyes stuck on the sight. It looks even harder and angrier than before, and seeing how I affect him drives home a truth I’ve heard about BDSM.

That it’s the submissive who has the power in every power exchange.

“May I?” I whisper once I’m in front of him.

He releases his shaft and cups my face. “You’re fucking killing me here.”

Then he spreads his legs and pushes me down to my knees, bringing my face to his bulge.

“So open and honest with us.” Ryder shifts his hips, rubbing himself back and forth over my lips. “You really are a good girl, but you’re dirty too, aren’t you?”

“She likes it filthy,” Beckett rumbles as Ryder thrusts forward.

“I think you’re right,” he says with a groan as he tightens the grip he still has on my hair to hold me in place. He thrusts forward, his eyes going hooded when I gag, but doesn’t stop until he’s filled my throat. “Fuck, that’s tight.” He pulls back, then thrusts in again. “Now make me come while Beckett and Tristan watch you work.”

I moan and suck hard, bobbing my head up and down and proving them both right. It’s not just dirty, it gets wetter and sloppier as my own arousal starts to peak again.

I shove a hand between my legs, clenching my thighs around it, and Ryder suddenly yanks on my hair hard enough to sting.

“None of that, dirty girl. Not quite yet. I said make me come.”

I sink into a warm haze, following his directions and riding the high of his praise as I suck and moan, bob and swallow, over and over while the heat of all three men’s eyes on me sends me flying.

“Oh fuck, that’s it.” Ryder’s grip suddenly tightens again, his cock swelling in my mouth and pulsing hard as he fills my mouth with his salty spend. “But don’t swallow. Not until I say so.”

I choke a little, my throat convulsing, but I manage to do what he says, holding it in my mouth until he finally pulls me off, his cock sliding from my mouth and leaving a trail of cum and saliva dripping from my lips.

“You’re so damn sexy,” he says, pushing it back inside with his thumb. “That was perfect, love. Your mouth is even better than Tristan said it was.”

“Only because words don’t do it justice,” Tristan murmurs as Ryder stares down at me, slowly sliding his thumb out and gripping my chin instead.

He tugs it down. “Now show me what you saved for me.”

I open my mouth and stick out my tongue, trying to curl it a little so I don’t lose any. It doesn’t quite work, and Ryder groans as it spills down my chin.

“Beckett was right. You’re fucking filthy.” He leans forward and kisses me, groaning into my mouth as he tastes himself there, then shoves his cum deeper with his tongue. “Now swallow,” he says when he finally pulls back, his voice husky and his eyes filled with heat. “Swallow what I gave you, then go show Beckett how good you can be for him.”

I do as I’m told, turning to find Beckett staring at me without blinking, cock still in hand. He’s on a leather chair near the fireplace, legs spread wide already, but when I go over to him, he stands up before I can crawl between them.

“Stop.”

I bite my lip, shuddering a little at the pure dominance in that single word.

He points to the floor at his feet. “Kneel.”

I slowly lower myself in front of him, keeping my eyes on his as my skin prickles with awareness. He looms over me, masculine and solid and gorgeous, making me feel small in the best possible way.

Then my eyes drop to his cock.

It’s pierced. A Jacob’s ladder. His shaft so thick and long that it fits eight rungs. Eight sets of stainless steel balls running up the center of his cock that I want to worship with my tongue.

“ Beckett ,” I whisper, squeezing my thighs together as a rush of heat floods my pussy.

I part my lips as I sway forward and reach for it.

“No,” he says sharply, causing my eyes to jerk back up to his as I freeze in place.

He doesn’t smile, but something in his stern expression still feels like praise.

I lick my lips. “I want to, um, to please you.”

A sir almost comes out on pure instinct alone, but I swallow it down at the last second, not sure if that’s okay since we didn’t “communicate” about that sort of thing, and feeling all too aware of how inexperienced with kink I am.

Beckett’s eyes bore into me for long enough that I start trembling.

Then he nods, just a fraction, and his lips tilt up. “You do please me, little menace. I’m pretty fucking sure you can’t do anything else.”

My breath hitches in my throat, warmth spreading through me like a drug.

I lift a hand again toward him again, but then drop it when he raises a silent eyebrow.

“Good girl. Shoulders back. Keep your eyes on me. That’s it.”

My nipples harden as he stares down at me, and when his eyes drop to my lips, I lick them, already greedy again. I need to know his taste too.

“I’m not going to use your mouth,” he rumbles.

I suck in a sharp breath, but the intensity of his gaze burns away any disappointment before it can take root.

I swipe my tongue across my lower lip again, tasting Tristan’s and Ryder’s cum and imagining his. Beckett grunts, then drags his gaze up to meet mine again.

“I want you to stay right there on your knees while I jerk off on you,” he says, starting to stroke himself again. “I’m going to come all over that pretty face of yours, and those perfect fucking tits. I want to see it dripping down those gorgeous curves, filthy girl.”

Heat races through me, my stomach swooping. I want to touch myself again. I want to touch him .

His thick fingers play up and down his double row of piercings, then circle his fat cock head before he thrusts almost violently into his fist again. He fucks his fist brutally, almost like he’s punishing his cock, and the rough grunts he makes with each stroke ratchet my arousal even higher.

I’m mesmerized. Entranced. And so damn turned on that it feels like if I twitch, I’ll come.

“Fold your arms behind your back.”

I moan, my body obeying him instinctively and then shuddering as the position makes me feel even more exposed.

I’m a blank canvas, waiting for him to paint me as he will. Waiting for him to make me filthy .

My pussy clenches tight, my eyes fluttering closed before I remember that Beckett wants me to keep my gaze on him.

I snap them open, and he groans, slowing down and squeezing his length in a long, slow glide. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Look at you. Greedy for cock. Panting for my cum, even though you’ve already had a double mouthful. You can’t fucking get enough, can you?”

I moan, and he makes a sharp sound that has my core tightening.

He stops stroking. “When I ask you something, you answer.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you can get enough?”

“I mean, no,” I pant, my whole body vibrating as I hold the position he wants me in. “I can’t. It’s not enough. I want more. I want yours .” I lick my lips, then whisper the word I want to. “Sir.”

His fist tightens around his cock again, his whole body freezing for a second. Then, with a groan that vibrates the air between us, he starts violently jerking his cock again.

“Such a pretty little slut for it. You want it? It’s coming. But I need something from you, first.”

I nod, lost in my arousal and unable to deny him anything. Anything at all.

“Give me another orgasm.”

I nod again with a breathy little gasp, but wait until he tells me how.

He smiles. It only shows in his eyes, but the praise still rolls over me like a crashing wave.

“Touch yourself.”

“Yes, sir. Oh god. Yes…”

My hand delves between my legs, and it barely takes a moment before I’m shuddering, my body pulsing as pleasure slams through me.

“ Fuck ,” Beckett rasps, his hand flying over his cock while his other one reaches out, grabbing my hair.

The sharp sting as he uses the grip to tilt my head back takes the aftershocks of my orgasm and sends them into a tailspin, driving my pleasure even higher.

“Beautiful little menace.”

He grunts the last word as the first hot jet of his cum hits my chin.

He aims the next one at my cheek, then aims his cock at my chest and milks out the last few spurts onto my chest, as promised.

“Fucking filthy,” he mutters almost tenderly, breathing hard as he slowly strokes himself a few more times. “A perfect, filthy little slut.”

I keep my gaze locked with his, the invisible tether between us pulled taut, and when I feel his cum sliding from my cheek toward my mouth, my tongue darts out, catching it and tasting him at last.

His eyes darken, and he finally releases my hair and tucks away his cock, then crouches down in front of me. His gaze drops to my lips for a split second, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me.

“Color?” he asks instead.

“ So green,” I whisper.

“Good girl. You were perfect,” he murmurs, giving me a smile in return. A small, private thing that almost makes it feel like he kissed me after all.