Filthy Rich Santas

33. Tristan

33

TRISTAN

Lana is a vision, freshly fucked and gorgeous, with her hair falling across her face as she blinks up at me.

Her lips are swollen from Beckett’s and Ryder’s kisses, tempting me to slide my aching cock between them. I’m so turned on after watching my friends fuck her that I’m aching with it.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything as perfect as the way she surrendered herself to them. The three of us have shared before, and it’s always a rush to do scenes with a willing submissive together.

But it’s never been like this.

With Lana, it’s not just about the sex. It’s not even strictly about kink, although helping her explore her interests is an unbelievable rush. But the trust with which she hands herself over to us goes far deeper than any of that.

Ryder rolls to his feet, helping Beckett lift her out from between them, and I pull her straight into my arms, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her deeply.

Her mouth is hungry on mine, tasting of sin and sex, and I can’t get enough. She’s always gorgeous, but messy like this, covered in my two best friends’ cum with her skin gleaming and hair mussed from the pleasure they’ve all shared makes her fucking breathtaking.

When we finally part, breathless, Lana asks, “How do you want me?”

“Bound. Restrained. Beautiful.”

She blushes, her eyes darting to the ropes Beckett pointed out earlier. “In those?”

“That’s right, freckles. I want to tie you up.”

“Shibari,” she breathes out, reminding me that when the subject of the Japanese art of rope bondage came up between all of us in the car once, she looked intrigued.

But then the excitement on her face fades, replaced by a flicker of nervous uncertainty.

“Nothing happens that you don’t want here,” I remind her.

“No, I do,” she says quickly. “I’d like to try. It’s just that I’ve never done it before, and…”

Her cheeks flush pink.

“And?” I prompt her.

She looks away. “I—I’ve seen some videos, but I’m not the typical size for it, am I?”

I turn her face back toward me. “There is no typical. Kink is for everyone. And you? Your body is perfect for this.”

“Is it?” she whispers.

“Yes,” I answer, my voice husky as I trail my fingers along her curves. “You’ll look stunning with rope wound around you right here… and here… and here. Shibari is more than kink. More than bondage. It’s art, and your body is my canvas. But you will always be the one in control, I promise, sweetheart. You can stop everything at any time with a single word.”

Her breath hitches at my words, and she swallows hard, her eyes glowing with a mix of vulnerability and trust that guts me.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice shaking slightly. “And if I don’t want to stop? If I want you to push me a little?”

I smile, my heart surging in my chest. “Then you’ve already given me that word.”

Green .

Fuck. She couldn’t be any more perfect if she tried.

Beckett and Ryder move around the room, cleaning themselves up a little but never taking their eyes off her as I lead Lana over to the piece of equipment I want. Everything in here is versatile, and while this one tends to be referred to as a spanking bench most often and I have no intention of spanking her, it’s perfect for the position I want her in.

Because once I have her in my ropes, I’m going to need to fuck her, and the image of having her bent over and bound while I slide into her hot, cum-slick pussy makes my cock pulse inside my pants, hard enough to make me groan.

“Spread your legs around it. That’s right. Just like that.” I guide her, her curves soft and lush under my hands as I help her straddle the bench, then push her flat against its wide surface.

She folds over it like a dream, turning her head to the side and resting her cheek against it with a sigh.

I take a moment to make sure she’s truly comfortable before reaching for the ropes, admiring the picture her flushed skin makes against the black leather.

“Fucking gorgeous” Beckett murmurs, as if he’s reading my mind.

I select a long length of forest-green rope. Then, with a little smirk, grab a second length. This one a deep, ruby red.

Ryder chuckles. “How festive.”

Lana’s eyes have drifted closed, her body relaxed and trusting. But at Ryder’s words, she opens them and, when she sees the holiday colors I’ve chosen, bites her lip, smiling.

“Ready?” I ask, brushing her hair back from her face.

“Yes.” She licks her lips, drawing my gaze to the plump, kiss-swollen flesh. “I want it. I want to know what it’s like.”

Her eagerness spurs me on. Her submission is a gift, and the need to push her, to see how much she’ll take, somehow meshes perfectly with my desire to protect her.

I drag the soft rope over her spine, my cock throbbing at the shiver that goes through her. Then I lift her arms, bringing them together behind her back.

A tremor runs through her, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“Alright?” I check in.

“Yes,” she whispers, her eyes drifting closed as I start to wind the rope around her.

Ryder and Beckett are totally silent, clearly as caught up in watching her reactions as I am as I slowly tug her arms further behind her, stretching her body out beautifully.

She moans softly, and I tie off the first knot just under her elbows, then start to weave the ropes in a more intricate pattern. One that will put her into a state of complete vulnerability.

“How does this feel?”

“Secure.” She inhales deeply, tension visibly flowing out of her body as her chest expands with her breath, straining against the ropes for a moment. “Restrained. Good.”

I can tell she’s not trying to break free of them, just testing their limits.

“Good,” I praise her. “That’s it. Just feel.”

Her eyes flutter shut, her features softening as I carefully wind more of the rope—the red one—down her forearms, sliding my fingers beneath it and testing as I go to ensure that it’s tight enough to bind but not so tight that it puts her circulation at risk.

“Fuck, that looks incredible,” Ryder murmurs.

“Mmm,” Beckett agrees, his gaze intent upon her. “Fucking beautiful.”

I work slowly, methodically, wanting to take care with her but also enjoying the process itself. I’ve always found shibari to be both arousing and meditative, putting me into a headspace where I’m completely focused on the submissive giving me their trust. And fuck, the way Lana takes to it is like no one I’ve ever played with before.

She’s a natural.

I reach her palms, tying an intricate, beautiful pattern around her wrists and between her fingers, then tie off another knot, fully securing her hands behind her back.

Lana whimpers, her body trembling. I can see her pulse fluttering in her throat, the rapid beat mirroring the thrum of her blood in her veins, the flush staining her cheeks as she tests the ropes again, then practically melts against the spanking bench when she realizes her arms are fully restrained.

This is one of the many reasons I love shibari. The security it gives a sub, the ability to reassure them without any words being spoken that they are completely free to let themselves go, is utterly addictive.

“Green,” Lana murmurs as I reach for the next rope.

I grin. I have no idea if she’s confirming that she’s willing and receptive to this, or just making an observation, since I’ve grabbed the forest-green colored rope for her legs. But either way, the slightly dreamy quality in her voice tells me she’s quickly falling into subspace.

I crouch down and start to bind her ankles to the base of the bench, winding the ropes in another intricate pattern as I work my way up her legs, one that will keep her spread wide and available for use.

I’m always careful when I do this. The safety of any sub who puts their trust in me is always my first priority. But with Lana, it feels so much deeper than that. I’m not just careful; I’m driven by an almost primal need to take care of her and ensure that it’s an experience she enjoys.

Her breath starts to quicken as I continue, and she starts squirming a little and subtly rocking her hips against the bench. Her body is still relaxed and pliant, but her growing arousal is obvious too.

And it starts to test my control.

Rope work always turns me on. Any submissive willing to put herself in my hands does. But Lana is something more. I’m not just sharing something I love with her. I’m discovering that she was made for it.

“Fuck, love,” Ryder murmurs as I finally reach her thigh and tie off the rope, then start in on her other side. “Tristan’s wrapping you up like a Christmas gift for us.”

He leans back against the wall, lazily fisting his cock as his eyes rake over my work, and Beckett grunts his agreement.

“That’s exactly what you are,” I tell her as I finish her other leg and tie off the final knot, securing her to the bench. “A gift. I wish you could see yourself. Next time, we’ll have to make sure we take pictures for you.”

She moans, the red flush from the flogger making her lush thighs and ass call to me even more now that they’re framed by the elaborate knot work I’ve completed.

“Too much?” I check, stroking my hand down her thigh, tracing the line of the rope. Testing it. Toying with it.

“No.” She shakes her head, her lips parted as she breathes heavily. “Just—a lot. But in a good way. The best way.”

“You’re taking it so well,” I praise her. “But nothing pinches? Nothing feels too tight?”

“No,” she whispers, squirming again. “It feels perfect.”

“Comfortable?” Beckett chimes in, watching her attentively.

She laughs softly. “Um, I’m not sure if I’d call it that, no.”

“Does anything tingle?” I double check.

She squirms against the bench again, biting her lip. “ Yes .”

“Fuck,” Beckett grunts.

I chuckle, my own cock throbbing in response to her need. “Not your pussy, freckles. I’ll get to that soon. But I mean your limbs, any area I’ve restrained. Does anything feel numb?”

“No, nothing like that,” she pants as I walk around the entire spanking bench, trailing my fingers over her gorgeous body as I check the ropes again. “I just feel… exposed,” she goes on, her words becoming slower, more relaxed. Almost dreamy. “My shoulders aren’t used to this. But I think I like the way I have to just accept that. I can’t move, I can’t do anything but take it, and that’s almost a relief. Does that make any sense at all?”

“Yes,” I reassure her, meeting my friends’ eyes. “Perfect sense.”

I know we all understand what she’s struggling to put into words. Submission isn’t necessarily about comfort. Quite often, it’s the opposite. And part of the beauty of that gift is the pleasure a sub takes in choosing to be un comfortable.

I circle back around behind her, my cock aching as I step between her spread thighs and drag my fingers through the cum dripping down her soft flesh.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur, cupping her pussy. My touch elicits a soft whimper, and a shudder ripples through her body. “And so utterly filthy. Do you feel well-used now that you’ve taken two loads… or do you still need more cock?”

She whimpers, her voice breaking. “Please. Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir. I do. I feel… I feel used, but I still need more.”

“Good girl.”

I push two fingers inside her, my cock jerking with excitement at the way she clenches around them. She really has been well-used. Her tight pussy is warm, wet, and welcoming, and it takes all my restraint to drag things out instead of just sliding right into her slick heat and losing myself there.

“Fuck,” Beckett growls, his jaw set tight, his nostrils flaring. “How does it feel inside her, Tristan?”

“So fucking good.”

I twist my fingers as I answer, and her walls squeeze around them. She’s drenched, the scent of her arousal thick in the air, but no matter how desperate I am to bury my cock inside her, I want her desperate too.

“Tell me what you need.” I crook my fingers, brushing her g-spot. “Do you need this ?”

“Yes,” she hisses, a tremble coursing through her. “God, yes.”

“Say it. Beg for it.”

“You,” she gasps. “I need you.”

“You need me to… what?”

“To fuck me,” she sobs. “To fill me up. I’m so empty. Please , Tristan.”

I smile, a fierce wave of satisfaction rolling through me as I pull my fingers out, wiping them on her plush ass.

“Not yet.”

She gasps, twisting her torso around to look at me. “What?”

I pull out a final length of rope, then gently push her body flat again.

“And that right there is why. I want you completely restrained before I fuck you. I don’t want you to have anything to do but accept my cock, to let me fuck you until you’re sobbing for release and realize that the only way it will come is with your total submission.”

She makes a beautiful sound of desperation, but doesn’t use her safe word, so that’s a yes.

I slowly start winding the final length of rope around her body, binding her shoulders to the bench and weaving it into a final, beautiful pattern over her torso and back.

Ryder and Beckett move closer, murmuring filthy promises and words of praise as they touch and tease her softly while I finish fully securing her.

By the time I’m done and standing behind her again, fingering that hot, wet pussy while finally freeing my cock from my pants, she’s a desperate, gasping mess.

Completely immobilized.

Completely turned on.

And loving it. Needing it. Needing me .

“Color?” I murmur, guiding my cock to her pussy and rubbing it through her slick slit while I wait for her answer.

“Green,” she whispers. “Green, please .”

“Fuck,” Beckett says, his voice strained as he strokes her hair. “So beautiful. You’re doing so fucking well, baby.”

“Yes,” Ryder murmurs, tracing the intricate pattern of ropes across her upper back. “We’re so proud of you. Look at you, all trussed up and spread wide. Begging for more cock like you just can’t get enough.”

She makes a mewling sound of pure need, straining to arch her back, push against my cock, move in any way at all… and completely unable to do so.

And it finally snaps my control.

I grip her hips and push into her, groaning at the feel of her hot, tight walls closing around me. I can feel her quivering, shaking as she adjusts to the sudden fullness, but I know she wants to be overwhelmed, and I want to overwhelm her, so I don’t stop.

I’m not even sure I fucking can.

I thrust deep, bottoming out and grinding into her lush, welcoming body with a curse.

“Yes,” she pants. “Oh god, fuck me. Please keep fucking me.”

I drive into her, over and over, loving the way she looks like this, bound in my ropes and spread out like an offering. But what I love even more is the way she moans and pleads for me to keep going, the way her pussy clenches around my shaft, the way her breath comes in ragged gasps and her body writhes, desperate to move, to take, to get more of what I’m giving her.

I love having her at my mercy, and knowing I’m giving her exactly what she needs.

I slide my hand between her thighs, finding her clit, and she screams.

“That’s it,” I groan, fucking her hard. “Let me hear how good it feels. Show me what a good girl you are. Beg for my cum. Beg me to fill you up too, just like Ryder and Beckett did.”

“Yes, please,” she pants, her body trembling as I drive into it, over and over, my own arousal racing so fast toward release that it’s making me a little crazy. “I need it.”

“Then come,” I demand. “Come on my cock, freckles. Let me feel it. Milk the cum right out of me. Right the fuck now.”

“Oh, god,” she gasps, and then her body seizes up, her pussy clamping down on my shaft as a wail escapes her, her release rocking her so hard that it almost takes me with her.

It feels fucking incredible, like her body really is trying to pull my cum out and force me to empty my balls inside her. And I’m desperate to do it. I want nothing more than to know she’s full of all three of us as I empty myself inside her.

But there’s something I want even more than all that.

I want to give Lana everything.

I push in to the hilt, grinding against her as I knead her ass. I tug on the ropes around her wrists, leaning down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses against her glistening back as I force myself to hold on to my control.

“Tristan,” she whimpers.

“Right here. Now turn your head. Do you see that wall?”

She obeys me slowly, panting as her body continues to clench around my cock with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Do you know why there’s nothing there?”

No shelves attached to it. No toys hanging from it. Nothing to impede the view.

“N-N-No,” she stutters.

Beckett mutters a low, fuck , and Ryder groans.

This isn’t the first time we’ve played at Eclipse, and they know exactly where I’m going with this.

“We’re not alone in this club,” I remind Lana, palming her ass. “Is exhibitionism a kink you’re interested in exploring?”

She hesitates for a moment, then nods.

Ryder groans again, sounding almost wrecked.

It’s a kink I know he particularly enjoys. I’ve always been more into watching others than being watched myself, and I know that, on some level, it has a lot to do with my scars. But Lana makes me want things I never have before, and she’s not the only one open to exploring new things right now.

“I like it when the three of you watch me,” Lana whispers.

“We know you do, love,” Ryder says, “but we’ve got the option to turn that opaque wall right there into a window too. A flip of the switch, and it will become transparent. Then everyone in the club will be able to see in here.”

“They’d see how fucking beautiful you look in Tristan’s ropes,” Beckett growls. “You’d be showing everyone how fucking lucky we are. They’d get to see you bound and submissive, spread out and fucked hard.”

Lana’s breath becomes ragged with excitement, and Ryder curses softly under his breath as he moves closer, circling her like a predator.

“Do you want that?” I ask, hooking my fingers in the ropes I wove around her body and pulling her back against me as my cock throbs inside her.

She whimpers a little, squirming in her restraints as she stares at the opaque viewing wall with wide eyes, as if she’s picturing everything she just heard.

“Do you want other people to see how gorgeous you look like this?” I press her as her skin heats with another flush of arousal. “Do you want to show off how well you take our cocks? Just say the word, and we can show everyone out there who you really are. We’ll show them that you’re made for this. Made to be fucked. Made to be worshiped. Made to offer up your submission and fly high with pleasure.”

A gorgeous shudder wracks her body, and her pussy squeezes my shaft in a rolling wave that leaves me groaning.

She’s so responsive that it’s almost intoxicating, but I need an answer. A verbal one. I need to hear her say it. But even before I do, her body is already answering for her, telling me without words everything I need to know.

And exactly what I was hoping to hear.