Filthy Rich Santas

30. Lana

30

LANA

The men insist on carrying the truly ridiculous number of bags we leave with, and as we step out of the shop, crisp winter air nips at my cheeks and a giddy level of happiness fills me to bursting.

I pull the scarf Beckett made for me tighter around my neck as I take in the picturesque town. The street is bustling with holiday shoppers, but my eyes are immediately drawn to something that makes my heart skip a beat.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, grabbing Ryder’s arm. “Look!”

A beautiful old-fashioned sleigh is parked at the end of the street, two magnificent horses hitched to it. It looks like something straight out of a Christmas card, and I can’t contain my excitement.

Ryder follows my gaze and rolls his eyes, even though I can tell he’s fighting off a smile. “Seriously?”

“Oh, come on,” I plead, giving him my best puppy-dog eyes. “It’ll be fun!”

Tristan chuckles, adjusting his glasses. “I’m with Lana on this one. When was the last time any of us went on a sleigh ride?”

“Never,” Beckett grunts, his lips twitching into a half smile. “Could be interesting.”

Ryder looks between the three of us, his expression a mix of exasperation and fondness. “You’re all ganging up on me now?”

“Don’t be such a grinch,” Tristan teases. “Live a little.”

I hold my breath, watching Ryder’s face. For a moment, I think he might actually refuse, but then his shoulders slump in mock defeat. “Fine. But if this turns into some kind of cheesy singalong, I’m jumping out.”

Grinning triumphantly, I grab his hand and practically drag him toward the sleigh before he can change his mind. The others follow, laughing at my enthusiasm.

We all pile in, and I end up nestled between Ryder and Beckett, with Tristan across from us. As we set off, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the jingling of bells fills the air. The town looks like a winter wonderland, strings of twinkling lights crisscrossing the streets and wreaths adorning every lamppost.

I can’t stop smiling, drinking in every detail. The cold air on my face, the warmth of the men beside me, the festive atmosphere—it’s all intoxicating. When I glance over at Ryder, my breath catches in my throat. Despite all his protests, he’s smiling, his eyes soft as he takes in our surroundings.

“Well, well,” I tease gently, nudging him with my elbow. “Look who’s finally starting to understand the appeal of my favorite holiday.”

“Maybe I am,” he admits in a low voice, turning his head so that his lips brush my ear. “I didn’t realize until now that Christmas could involve some of the hottest sex of my life, developing a new appreciation for hot chocolate, and…” He pauses, chuckling. “The joy of taking a few unexpected detours.”

I flush, my heart doing a little flip. He thinks our encounters have been some of the hottest sex of his life?

I know that being with the three of them has been amazing for me , but since he’s so much more experienced, both sexually and with kink in general, it’s hard to believe he feels the same way.

But the truth in his eyes is unmistakable. He means it.

Heat races through me, and I have to fight the urge to climb onto his lap right here in the sleigh. Or, even more embarrassing, confess how much it means to me to hear him say that.

Instead, I try to deflect the intensity of my emotions by teasing him about one of our “detours.”

“Admit it, Christmas just won’t feel complete for you anymore without a few roadside attractions.”

He grins at me, and Tristan joins in on the teasing, asking, “Are we talking about that dinosaur thing we stopped at?”

I sniff haughtily, trying to make them laugh. “Thing? I think you mean art .”

It works, and as we continue our ride through the twinkling, snow-covered streets, the laughter keeps flowing as we recount some of the adventures we’ve already had on this trip.

I can’t help but marvel at how much has changed in such a short time.

A week ago, I never would have imagined being here, snuggled between three men I’ve crushed on for half my life, feeling more cherished and desired than I ever have before. And for once, instead of trying to remind myself that it’s only temporary, with the Christmas lights sparkling off the snow around us and the sound of sleigh bells in the air, I just let myself enjoy it.

Once the sleigh returns us to our starting point, we disembark and wander through the festive streets.

“Do I smell… pretzels?” Tristan asks as we pass a vendor selling them fresh out of the oven.

The vendor grins at us. “Best ones you’ll find in the north east!”

The scent really is too tempting to resist, and we each get one, savoring the salty-sweet taste as we continue our stroll.

It’s not long before I catch the guys exchanging glances, though.

“What is it?” I ask, rubbing my icy cold nose.

Tristan tugs my hand away and taps the tip of my nose, smiling at me. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel. We don’t want to overdo it.”

By “we,” I’m pretty sure he means me, and I’m about to argue, mostly out of habit, when I notice the concern in their eyes. I did promise not to push it, so instead, I nod.

“Good girl,” Beckett murmurs. But then he cuts a glance at Ryder, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. “But since Ryder is such a fan of hot chocolate now, maybe we can head back to the car by way of that cafe over there.”

I laugh, loving this glimpse at a slightly more playful side of him. And loving even more that, no matter how he plays it off, I know he’s suggesting we grab the warm treat because of me.

“If we must,” Ryder says with an exaggerated eye roll, playing along. And soon, we’re all holding steaming cups of rich, creamy hot chocolate.

The warmth seeps through my gloves, and I inhale the sweet scent with a contented sigh as we make our way back to the SUV and all pile in.

I’m practically buzzing with happiness as I settle into the backseat next to Beckett, cradling my hot chocolate in both hands.

Ryder takes the driver’s seat this time, and as we head to a nearby hotel, I carefully remove the lid on my cup to reveal a mountain of whipped cream.

“I can’t believe you didn’t get any whipped cream on yours,” I tease Beckett as he sips from his own cup, watching me.

“It looks like they gave you enough for the both of us,” he shoots back, lifting a brow.

I laugh, but he’s right. I tip my head forward to breathe in the sweet scent, then dart my tongue out to lick the whipped cream.

Beckett’s already dark green eyes darken even more, until they’re the color of a forest at night.

“Careful,” he rumbles, his voice low. “You might find yourself in trouble if you keep that up, little menace.”

A thrill runs through me. I honestly wasn’t trying to tease him. Not like that. But the heat in his gaze makes me feel bold.

I maintain eye contact as I slowly, deliberately swipe another dollop of whipped cream from my drink, this time on my finger, then bring it to my lips.

I lick it. Then I suck my whole finger into my mouth, making sure to do it exactly the way I would if I were on my knees for him again.

Beckett’s eyes narrow, the tension between us crackling. “What did I just say about trouble?”

I slowly slide my finger out of my mouth, then rub the pad of it back and forth over my lower lip as my pulse speeds up.

“I don’t remember. You might have to remind me.”

“Remind you? I think you mean I might have to fuck the brat out of you,” he growls.

I shiver, my mind going blank when he slides a hand between my legs.

“I fucking love these gorgeous thighs of yours. As soft as silk, and thick enough to take a pounding.”

I instinctively tighten them around his hand. Not to block him, but to keep him touching me.

Beckett smiles, a dangerous, wicked look. “You know why I didn’t get any whipped cream?” His thick fingers brush against me, the heat of his touch burning right through the thin layers of cloth separating us. “Because I’d rather taste this. I’d like to live with my head between these pillowy thighs of yours, feasting on you all night long.”

My breath stutters, my arousal already making my panties grow damp. But I can’t resist teasing him a little bit more.

I take another sip of my hot chocolate, letting some of the whipped cream stick to my upper lip, and then meet Beckett’s eyes as I part my legs, giving him full access as I slowly lick it off.

He curses under his breath. “Ryder, take the long route.”

“But we’re almost to the hotel,” Ryder starts to say, before glancing back at us in the rearview mirror. “Oh,” he adds with a smirk. “Gotcha.”

“I need to teach our girl a lesson,” Beckett growls, his fingers curling against me.

A thrill shoots through me that goes beyond the pleasure of feeling his touch. My head knows he’s only claiming me that way in the heat of the moment, but my heart stutters anyway, loving the way he called me theirs .

“Color?” he asks, his eyes burning into me.

“Green, sir.”

The honorific slips out so naturally I don’t even have to think about it.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, taking the paper cup out of my hands and then handing both his and mine to Tristan in the front seat. Then he leans over me and releases my seat belt. “Take your shoes off.”

It’s not a request. It’s a command.

“Yes, sir.”

I bend over to slip my boots off, then let him help me wiggle out of my pants, leaving me in just my sweater and a tiny lace thong.

“On my lap, little menace. Now.”

I scramble to obey him, my heart racing and my body flushed with excitement.

I’ve never done anything like this before. Ryder turned off the highway a little while ago, choosing dark, winding back roads where the night wraps around the SUV like a blanket. The houses here are set back from the road with big sections of land between them, and only the occasional car passes us as Ryder navigates carefully along the route.

Beckett’s big hands slide up the backs of my thighs, helping me spread my legs wide as I straddle him, then guiding me down on top of the thick ridge of his clothed cock.

“You’re hard,” I breathe out, rocking against him.

He moves his hands to my ass, tightening his grip in a silent reminder that he’s in charge right now.

“You said you wanted some cream, dirty girl,” he says with a wicked smile. “Be careful what you ask for.”

Before I can answer, he kisses me possessively. His tongue slides between my lips as his big hands knead my ass, slipping under my thong to pull me even closer.

“Fuck.” Ryder groans. “You’re making it hard as hell to focus up here, putting on a show like that back there.”

“Just don’t run us off the road,” Tristan murmurs. “I’m suddenly feeling very motivated to make it back to the hotel in one piece.”

My pussy clenches at the promise in his words, and I can’t help grinding against Beckett as he claims my mouth. His cock is rock hard, and the pressure against my clit feels too good for me to stay still.

He pulls his hands out from my thong and swats my ass, loosely wrapping his other hand around my throat as he pushes me back enough to look in my eyes. “Are you trying to get on the naughty list?”

“No, sir,” I answer breathlessly.

Ryder laughs. “You sure you don’t want to rethink that answer, love?”

“Even nice girls are allowed on the naughty list this time of year,” Tristan teases, making me flush.

Beckett reaches between us, keeping one hand around my throat as he slowly lowers his zipper. “Do you know what you get when you land on the naughty list?”

I shake my head, then lift up when he directs me to.

He pulls out his cock. “They get fucked, baby. They have to sit on my lap and tell me what they really want. But you already did that, didn’t you?”

He slips his free hand inside my thong again, sliding his fingers through my folds, then pulling aside the lace as my thighs start to tremble.

“You want some cream, but you’re gonna have to work for it. Put me inside you, then sit down on my lap.”

Every time any one of these men touch me, I discover new levels of arousal. But this? Staring into Beckett’s unblinking gaze as I sink down onto his cock is the most sensual moment of my life. It feels both forbidden and private, reckless and safe to be doing this surrounded by nothing but the night.

“Fuck,” Beckett hisses, his hand tightening on my neck as I fully seat myself on his lap. “That’s it, you naughty little thing. Take all of it. Earn your place on Santa’s list.”

His filthy praise combined with the teasing role play and the stretch of his thick, pierced cock inside me is too much. I let my eyes flutter closed, savoring the pleasure—but they immediately snap back open when headlights wash over us. Another car is coming over the rise behind us, illuminating the interior of our SUV.

I gasp, my heart pounding as a surge of adrenaline at the thought of being caught like this floods me. I’m honestly not sure whether I’m thrilled or terrified by the idea, but then Beckett draws my attention back to him by rocking his hips up.

“Eyes here.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’s in charge. These three men will never let anything happen that pushes my boundaries further than I can handle. I’m safe to explore everything I’ve ever fantasized with them, and this moment is no different.

Beckett releases my throat, both hands going to my ass and holding me in place as Ryder throws the blinker on and turns onto a dark side road, allowing the other set of headlights to disappear into the darkness.

Then Beckett starts fucking me.

I may be on top, but this is completely different from Ryder telling me to ride him back at the last hotel. I’m not even close to being in charge right now. Beckett is in total control, driving up into me as he uses his hands on my ass to move me on and off of him, forcing me to take every single inch of his cock and lighting up nerves I didn’t even know I had with his Jacob’s ladder.

“Your pussy is so fucking greedy, little menace,” he grunts out. “So hungry for cock, so tight and wet. You’re soaking. I can feel you dripping down my balls, you naughty little thing. Is this what you wanted?”

I moan, letting my head drop back, only for Beckett to grip my chin and force me to meet his eyes again.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, sir,” I gasp, trying to keep eye contact. But my eyes flutter closed when he slams into me hard enough to make the springs of the seat groan. “I… I wanted this. You. I want you to… to fuck me just like this. Fuck the sass out of me.”

“Touch that pretty clit of yours,” he growls, driving up into me like a man possessed, over and over. “Tug that ring and give me a show, baby. I want you to come all over my cock before we make it back to the hotel.”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes, sir. I… I…”

I’m so keyed up, so close to tumbling over the edge into an abyss of pure pleasure, that for a moment, I can’t make sense of the jarring ringtone that suddenly blares from my phone.

It sounds again, and Beckett glances down at where I left it on the seat next to us.

“Wade,” he grunts, reading off the screen.

I tense up at the sound of my ex’s name—hearing it now, while I’m impaled on another man’s cock and moments away from an earth-shattering orgasm, is almost surreal.

“I’m sorry. Ignore it,” I gasp. “It… it will stop in a second.”

Beckett’s hands tighten, and he maneuvers my hips in a slow, rolling motion that makes his piercings rub against my g-spot.

My eyes roll back in my head, my thighs starting to shake as that fucking ringtone I set for Wade months ago keeps blaring out from the seat next to us.

“I don’t like to ignore things, little menace,” Beckett tells me with an almost feral grin. “Answer it.”

“What?” I whisper, my eyes flaring wide.

He holds my gaze. “I said, answer your phone.”

He’s pure Dom, his authority rolling over me and making me shudder. I could use my safe word. I know that.

But I don’t want to.

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, keeping my eyes locked with his as I blindly reach out next to me, feeling around for my phone.

Beckett smiles as I swipe to answer and bring it to my ear. He adjusts me on his lap, holding me in place instead of driving up into me, and starts playing with my clit piercing while I do as I’ve been told.

“Wade?” I answer breathlessly, stifling a moan as Beckett pinches my clit, tugging gently on the little ring.

“Lana.” Wade’s crisp voice comes through. “I’m returning your call.”

I bite my lip, then have to bite back another moan as Beckett continues teasing my clit, rolling the pad of his finger over it. He’s making it impossible to concentrate.

“My call? I didn’t— ahhhh .”

Beckett gives me a wicked smile while Wade’s impatient huff sounds in my ear.

“I have a missed call from you. One which you clearly forgot to disconnect after it went to my voicemail.”

It sounds like he’s talking about an accidental butt dial. I’m sure of it when he goes on.

“I could hear you laughing and talking with… someone. Several someones, actually. Who were you with?”

“Today?” I ask, the snap in his tone barely registering thanks to the way Beckett’s cock pulses inside me as he watches me struggle.

“Yes, today,” Wade says, annoyance clear in his voice.

“Oh. Um…”

I can’t think. Beckett has stopped playing with my clit and started slowly raising and lowering me on his cock again, lifting my ass in his big hands and then guiding me back down with agonizing precision as Wade’s voice drones in my ear.

My whole body feels hot, my toes curling as the pleasure begins to build again.

“Lana,” Wade snaps. “Who did I hear you talking to when you left that message earlier?”

Even though the call isn’t on speaker, Beckett and I are close enough that I can tell he hears my ex-fiancé’s part of the conversation too.

“Answer the man, dirty girl,” he murmurs, so low the phone doesn’t pick up his words.

My stomach flips.

“Friends,” I blurt, then suck in a sharp, audible breath when I feel another set of hands on me.

It’s Tristan. It must be. He reaches back from the front seat and pulls my panties aside even more, fingering my ass while Beckett starts playing with my clit ring again.

I press my lips tight together, so focused on restraining my sounds of pleasure that I can barely concentrate on what Wade is saying.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re enjoying your vacation,” my ex says stiffly. “I know the Christmas season is your favorite.”

“How, um, oh god, how do you know I’m on… on vacation?”

Beckett’s thrusts up hard, the tendons in his neck standing out as he starts increasing the pace again, pushing me right back to the peak as he stares into my eyes.

“Is everything alright, Lana?” Wade asks.

“Yes,” I choke out, my voice high and thready. “It’s… it’s perfect.”

“I’ve missed you,” Wade says abruptly. “Hearing your laugh on that voicemail… well, it made me think that maybe we should reconsider this separation.”

I’m going to come. Beckett has given up all pretense of teasing me and is back to fucking me with a single-minded intensity that wipes out all my higher reasoning.

Wade keeps talking, but I honestly have no idea about what. My orgasm is building, relentless and undeniable, and I know I can’t hold it off much longer.

“Wade,” I pant, cutting off whatever he’s saying. “I’ve… I’ve gotta go.”

I slap at the red “end call” button and toss my phone aside, not caring where it lands as the wave of pleasure that’s been building inside me hits its peak.

I cry out, shaking with the force of it, but Beckett doesn’t stop fucking me.

“Do that again,” he demands. “Wade didn’t get to hear you come, little menace. This time, I want you to scream so loud he hears it all the way back in California.”

He wraps an arm around my waist, holding me to him as he drives into me over and over. I can feel every piercing of his Jacob’s Ladder sliding in and out of me, the friction only adding to the fire consuming me.

“Give it to me,” he growls, his breath coming in harsh pants. “Give me one more, then I’m gonna fill that greedy pussy with my cum.”

My whole body shudders, his filthy words sending me over the edge again.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hips stuttering as his cock jerks and pulses inside me. “Fucking perfect.”

He slumps back against the seat, bringing me with him, and I’m still floating in a haze of pleasure as I collapse against him, utterly boneless.

He runs a hand down my hair, his touch gentle in the aftermath. “Tell us what that worthless prick wanted.”

I know he heard most of it, but I repeat it all, wanting to share this—just like everything else—with Tristan and Ryder too.

“He said he missed me,” I admit, wrinkling my nose. He claimed he wanted to rethink our ‘separation’ and what’s best for our future.”

As the fog of pleasure starts to clear and I fully process Wade’s words, it hits me in a rush just how over him I really am. I don’t even feel like the same person he dumped. I’m not even sure I recognize that person now that I’ve had a taste of being who I really want to be.

I straighten up abruptly, Beckett’s softening cock still buried inside me, and snatch my phone up again.

“What are you doing, baby?”

I show him, turning the screen so he can see as I pull up Wade’s contact and move to delete it, then change my mind and hit “block” instead.

I don’t just want my shitty ex out of my phone. I want him out of my life entirely. I don’t need him anymore, and I sure as hell don’t want him to call me again.

Something blazes in Beckett’s eyes, and he grips my hair without saying a word, then kisses me hard.

I melt into him. Not submitting this time, but meeting him as an equal. Kissing him the way I want to—because he makes me feel more like myself, more seen and authentic and real, than I ever thought was possible.

And because he makes me feel so many other things too.

I know it’s impossible for this thing that’s growing between us to last, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish things could be different.

I wish I could keep him.

I wish I could keep all three of them.