Filthy Rich Santas

27. Lana

27

LANA

Beckett and I lock eyes, his flaring with that intense fire he usually keeps banked so deeply inside him.

I can see that he wants to know more. He wants to hear what I stopped myself from saying after confessing how badly I want his cock. But he doesn’t push for more than I want to give, and when he accepts my silence and moves on, I sink even deeper into my submission.

It’s easy to do with him, because I trust him.

He keeps a tight hold of my hair, slowly stroking himself in front of my face. “You’ve earned this tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper. “Thank you, sir.”

“How much of it can you take?”

I lick my lips, my nipples tingling and my clit throbbing like it’s alive. “As much as you decide I deserve.”

Approval flashes across his face, but he tugs my hair sharply, reminding me of what I forgot.

“ Sir .”

He smiles. “Good girl. And you’re right, I’ll decide. But tell me, do you want to choke on it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He guides the head back to my lips and rubs it across them, back and forth, while he stares at me. “You’re saying you want to gag for me? That you can take as much as I give you?”

“Yes,” I pant. “Yes, sir. Please, sir.”

“Put your hands on my thighs.”

I do it, my heart pounding as I stare up at him. My hair tickles my bare back, reaching almost down to the top of my ass, and I’m suddenly intensely aware of how I must look from behind, to the men who are watching Beckett use me.

Knees spread, pussy wet, back arched.

And now this. His to use and abuse, my throat his toy.

Begging for it.

“I’m going to fuck your throat,” Beckett promises. “You won’t be able to breathe, but keep your eyes on me and I’ll make sure you get enough air when you need it.”

“Okay.” I tremble, licking my lips. “I mean, yes, sir.”

“If you need me to stop, you’ll use your safe word by tapping my leg twice.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Show me.”

I blink, feeling dazed and turned on and so eager for him to overwhelm me, use me, let me be good for him, that I’m lost.

Beckett wraps a hand around my throat again, pressing under my chin with his thumb to force my head up, then pinning me in place with his eyes. “Show me how you’ll tap my leg if you need me to stop, Lana. You won’t be able to speak. You won’t be able to say ‘red.’ Not with my cock choking you. Now be good and let me know you can follow directions.”

I whimper, and the sound is barely out of my throat before Beckett has pulled his hand back, his grip on my hair tightening. “Fucking do it.”

His dominance has my head spinning, and I’m suddenly so wet, so close to coming even though I’ve had no stimulation other than his words, that I can’t think.

“I-I-I…”

He pulls my hair sharply. “You can. Tap my thigh. Now. Two taps mean stop.”

The intense sting against my scalp clears my head, making me moan, and I finally give him what he’s asked me to, tapping his thigh twice.

“Good girl. What does that mean?”

“Stop. Red. Um, that I need to breathe.”

He smiles at me. “Good. And what color are you now?”

I blink up at him. “Green.”

He doesn’t ask again, just tells me to open, then his thick, swollen head is pushing past my lips and the smooth steel nubs of his piercings are sliding over my tongue and nudging the back of my throat. He goes so deep this time that I instinctively swallow around him, and the way he groans as my tongue spasms against his shaft sends a rush of pleasure through me.

I did that. I’m making him feel good. I’m not just his to use, I’m pleasing him.

“Suck,” he says sharply, the command sending another burst of arousal through me.

I do, and Beckett curses, his voice low and throbbing, and pushes even deeper.

“That’s it. Fuck, your mouth is like a dream. So perfect. I could keep you on your knees like this all fucking day. But right now, I need more.”

He pulls out, leaving me gasping, then slides back in again, forcing my mouth open wide and my lips to stretch around him as he drives deep again.

“Tap my thigh if you need a break,” he growls when I shudder.

I blink up at him, my eyes watering, and relax my hands on his thighs, telling him in every way I can that a break is the last thing I need.

I want more of this. More of him .

Beckett gets the message. My pulse pounds as he does it again, his grip on my hair tightening as he thrusts in and out, deeper and deeper, fucking my face just like he promised he would.

“That’s a good girl,” he growls. “So fucking hot and tight, you’re going to make me come. Now take a breath and hold it. I need to feel your throat milk me.”

My chest is already heaving, my breasts heavy and nipples tight. But when he pulls out and tells me to take a deep breath, the anticipation ratchets up another notch, making my skin prickle and my pussy clench with excitement.

Beckett doesn’t wait. As soon as I draw some air in, he shoves back inside me, his piercings sliding into my throat as his cock forces it to open for him, his grip on my hair holding my head perfectly in place.

I moan, my throat vibrating around his shaft and my head starting to get light and floaty as he holds me in place, his cock buried deep and his balls pressing against my chin, grinding against my face.

My eyes flutter closed, my whole existence narrowing down to the taste and feel of him.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Your mouth .”

He grinds against my face again, his shaft swelling against my tongue and choking me exactly the way he promised he would, and then he’s cursing, grip tightening and thick thighs turning to rock under my hands.

And then he’s gone, pulling out so fast that I’m left gasping, whining at the loss.

He was about to come. I know he was.

And I want it.

Like he said, I earned it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he growls, his fingers locked like a ring around the base of his shaft. “You really are hungry for it, aren’t you, baby? Did that get you wet?”

“Yes,” I rasp, completely shameless, my voice wrecked by his hard use. “Yes, sir.”

“Show me.”

I blink up at him, panting. I need more direction.

“Touch yourself,” he instructs. “Slip your fingers inside.”

I do it, sliding my fingers over my slick folds and moaning as I rub my clit, tugging on the ring there to heighten my pleasure.

Beckett grabs my wrist, holding it still. “I didn’t say you could come. I said slide those fingers into that sweet pussy and show me how wet you are. Fuck yourself with them like the filthy girl you are. Get them good and slick, then show me what sucking my cock did to you.”

I’m breathing heavily, his words pushing me higher, making my skin burn and my nipples ache and the pressure build inside me.

“Do it,” he orders, releasing my wrist.

“Yes, sir,” I breathe out, trembling. I press all four of my fingers together, longing for the thickness of his cock, and obey him.

“That’s it. Just like that. Dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? Show me how much you like getting on your knees for me.”

I moan, fucking myself as he keeps talking, keeps praising and degrading me, keeps pushing me higher and higher until I’m not sure I can obey his order not to come.

“Fucking hell,” he growls as I shudder, clenching around my own hand. “I can smell how turned on you are from here. Show me those fingers. Good girl. Now lick them for me. Tell me if it’s as sweet as it looks.”

I obey, then moan and arch my back, unable to help the way I writhe as I suck my own fingers, pushing my other hand between my legs and grinding against it as the salty sweetness of him mingles with the taste of my own desire on my tongue.

I’ve never been so turned on in my life, and I need to… I need…

“Please,” I moan, fingering myself frantically, “Please, sir. Let me come.”

Beckett grabs my hair again. “No.”

My core clenches tight, the denial somehow even hotter than if he’d told me to push myself over the edge.

He tips my chin up. “Do you want me to fuck you, dirty girl? Do you want me to fill that slick little hole with my cock? Do you want your pussy stuffed the way I stuffed your throat? Do you want to feel my piercings inside you?”

“Oh fuck. Yes. Please. Please , sir.”

He stands abruptly, pulling me to my feet. “On the bed.”

It’s too far. I want to whine again. Want to beg him to fuck me right here, right now.

But I’m not in charge, and neither of us want me to be.

Beckett strips off the rest of his clothes, making my mouth water, then turns me in the right direction.

My legs tremble as the heat from Tristan’s and Ryder’s gazes sears right through me. Then Beckett gives my ass a firm swat to motivate me to move, and they both follow us to the bedroom.

“Hands and knees,” Beckett orders once I reach the bed, massaging my ass with both his hands as I shamelessly spread my knees wide and present myself for him. “I’m going to spank you now. Color?”

“Green,” I whisper. “Green, sir.”

“Good girl. I want to see this luscious ass bright red and covered with my marks.”

“Yes! Yes, please,” I pant, my arms trembling as I hold myself up. Earlier, I wasn’t sure if I wanted pain, and I’m still not sure it will hurt—that anything even could when I’m this turned on.

But I am sure I want it.

I’m desperate for it.

And Beckett delivers.

He starts off slowly, letting me adjust and warming me up, but he doesn’t linger. He doesn’t give me the chance to doubt or second guess, or for reality to intrude. All that exists is the sharp sting of each swat. The heat that blooms every time his hand connects with my ass. The pain that steals all my attention, making every nerve ending sing until I can’t tell where pleasure starts and pain begins.

“Sir,” I gasp. “Please…”

Beckett chuckles darkly and rubs my throbbing ass. “You look so good in red. Did you need something, little menace?”

I moan, my head hanging low. I’m trembling. I’m not sure I can talk.

“It looks like she needs a good fucking,” Ryder murmurs, sending a shudder through me.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“You can do better than that,” Beckett says firmly. “What do you want?”

“You. Your cock. Please.”

“And where do you want it, my dirty little slut? Back in your mouth?”

I’m shaking, my clit pulsing with the need to come. But I want to be good for him, so if that’s what he wants…

“Okay,” I whisper.

Beckett spanks me again, quick and sharp, and I yelp, another shudder of pleasure going through me.

“What. Do. You. Want?” he demands.

“Fuck, look how wet she is,” Tristan mutters. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Yes. If she wants to be fucked, she needs to say so.”

“Yes!” I finally blurt. “I do. I want it. Please, sir.”

“You want my cock inside you?”

“Yes!”

“In your hot little pussy?”

“Oh god. Yes. Please, Beckett. Please, sir,” I beg shamelessly, desperate for him. “Fuck me. Use me. I need it. I need your cock. I want to be a good slut for you. I want… I want you to get me filthy and leave me dripping with your cum. Tell me how to earn it. Please, please, I’ll do anything. Please, just give me your cock.”

“Holy shit,” Ryder groans.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tristan rasps.

Beckett lets out a low curse, then presses the head of his pierced cock against my soaked entrance, rubbing it back and forth and making me practically sob with need.

“You want my cum inside you, dirty girl?” he growls, leaning over my back and fondling my breast as he tortures me. “You don’t want me to suit up, just go in raw and fuck you bare? You want to know how that feels? How filthy I can make those sweet thighs of yours once my cum is spilling out of you and sliding down them, after I’m done with you?”

I cry out, the words ratcheting my arousal even higher.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” I whisper, shaking.

“Color?”

“G-g-green. Green, sir.”

He bites the back of my neck, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. “Good girl. Then take what you asked for.”

I half expect him to slam into me, but instead, he grabs my hips and pushes inside one slow inch at a time.

“Oh god,” I breathe when the first set of piercings enter me, a wave of heat and pleasure radiating out from where he’s penetrating me and leaving me shuddering. “I can feel them.”

“That’s it, dirty girl. All for you. Count them for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

He pulls out, and I whine. Then he spanks me hard, and I shudder, my arousal turning into a raging wildfire within me.

“I said count,” he growls before slowly pushing back in.

“One,” I hiss as soon as I feel the extra stimulation from the first two metal balls on his Jacob’s ladder again. “Yes, sir. One.”

“Good girl. Do you remember how many there are?”

I’ve seen his cock. Touched it. Played with them with my tongue. But my mind is so fuzzy with want right now that it takes me a minute to actually remember.

“Eight?”

He gives me another slow thrust, rewarding me for answering him properly. “That’s right. Keep going.”

“Two,” I moan when I feel the next set. Then, on a gasp, “Three.”

I already know his cock is large, both thick and long, but feeling it inside me, knowing we’re not even halfway there yet, is something else. I’ve never felt so full.

I also never realized Beckett would be the kind of man to torture me like this, entering me in a long, slow glide as I finish counting them off that leaves me trembling and panting by the time he finally bottoms out.

“Eight,” I repeat once we get there, my thighs shaking and my pussy so wet that the sound of him entering me is almost obscene.

“Good girl,” Beckett rasps, his grip on my hips tightening. “Now hold on. This is where I fuck my new favorite cocksleeve.”

The objectification just does it for me, and I’m too turned on, too lost in the fuzzy delights of subspace, to worry about why or judge myself for it. But Beckett is done going slow. He pulls back until just the thick head of his cock is inside me, then slams back in so hard that I would have flown forward on the bed if he didn’t have a rock-solid grip on me.

I cry out, pleasure spiking through me as he gives me exactly what I need, driving in and out of me with no mercy once he gets started; fucking me so hard that all I can do is grip the bedspread and hold on, his piercings sending spikes of pleasure through me with every thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant, gasping and shuddering as he turns me into a mindless vessel for his pleasure. “More.”

“You fucking love this. You really are a slut for my pierced cock.”

“ Yes .”

“You know I got them for the same reason you got yours.” His big, rough fingers bite into my hips as he leans down over my back, the change in angle driving his piercings against my G-spot and making me cry out all over again. “These piercings? They’re for your pleasure, baby. So say thank you. Tell me how much you appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” I gasp out. “Thank you, sir. Fuck, please don’t stop. Please don’t ever stop.”

“Good girl,” he grunts, fucking me even harder.

My body is like a live wire, my core tight and coiled and so close to release that I can taste it. But every time he calls me his “good girl,” he owns me even more, and no matter how quickly the pleasure builds as he fucks into me, I can’t— won’t —let myself go until he gives me permission.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t beg for it.

I have to. He’s got me teetering right on the edge, fucking me so perfectly it’s almost like an out-of-body experience, and I don’t think I can take anymore no matter how good I want to be for him right now.

“Please,” I gasp out. “Beckett. sir. I… I can’t… I need…”

“You need what I give you,” Beckett growls, reaching around and rubbing my clit with one hand and using the other to wrap around my throat. “And you’ll wait until I tell you.”

“Yes,” I moan. “Yes, sir.”

He pulls me up and against him, my back to his front, my knees spread wide and still on the bed, and the way he holds me upright makes the new position feel almost as if he’s riding me.

“That’s it,” he mutters in my ear. “You’re my little fuck toy tonight, and your only job is to feel it. Take it. Enjoy it. Let me hear how much you love taking my cock.”

His words push me even higher, and his hand moves between my legs, fingers sliding down and playing with my clit, then tugging on the little ring there as his cock pumps into me again and again, until I really can’t hold on anymore.

And like he can read my body perfectly, Beckett has mercy on me, and finally gives his permission.

“Come, dirty girl,” he snarls in my ear, his cock hitting a new angle inside me. “Come on my cock, right the fuck now.”