Filthy Rich Santas

Epilogue

LANA

The soft strains of Christmas music fill my studio as I add the final touches to my latest piece. Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the space in a warm glow that highlights the colorful canvases adorning the walls. It’s hard to believe it’s been almost a year since the guys gifted me this incredible space.

I step back, surveying the painting with a critical eye. It’s a large-scale abstract inspired by our road trip last Christmas—all swirling colors and dynamic lines that capture the whirlwind of emotions from that life-changing journey.

As I clean my brushes, I smile at how far I’ve come. My first gallery showing last spring was a surprising success, and I’ve been steadily building a name for myself in the L.A. art scene ever since. It’s more than I ever dared to dream, yet here I am, living it.

Because of them.

I glance at the clock and realize it’s time to close up. I’ve got a hot date tonight at Radiance with my men, and I can’t wait. Literally.

As I lock up the studio, my mind drifts to this morning’s wake-up call. Ryder’s talented fingers tracing patterns on my skin, his lips following the same path, and his cock buried inside me.

Waking up to the feeling of him fucking me has become one of my favorite ways to start the day.

I smile to myself as I navigate the L.A. traffic toward Radiance. Any guilt I had over the three of them putting their dreams of expansion on the back burner have been laid to rest by seeing what their focused attention has meant for the club’s success over the last year.

“Lana!” The club’s manager greets me as I walk in, bustling over to take my coat and air kiss my cheek. “Mr. Stone told me we were expecting you. Can I get you a seltzer water?”

I smile at him. “Nothing tonight, Stephen. Thank you. All I need is my men.”

“I believe Mr. Callahan and Mr. Whitmore are in the back, and I saw Mr. Stone heading for the back corridor a moment ago.”

“Thank you.”

I’m about to turn away when he stops me with a light touch to my arm.

“If I may say so, Ms. Reeves, the new piece you delivered last week is exquisite.”

He nods toward the main demonstration room, where one of my newest paintings hangs above the St. Andrew’s Cross.

I grin. “Thank you.”

That particular painting was inspired by a mind-blowing exhibitionist scene the men surprised me with on my birthday, and like my other kink-inspired art that they display around the club, it gives me a thrill to be able to share this side of myself with people who appreciate it.

A shiver of anticipation runs through me as I head for the dimly lit staff-only hallway Stephen referred to, hoping I’ll catch Beckett there. It’s behind the bar I sat at so nervously during my first visit to this club, when he stepped in and scared off an admirer.

Its entrance is neatly camouflaged to blend into the decor, and as soon as I slip into the hallway, large, tattooed hands grab me and press me against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” he demands, dipping down and dragging his nose along my throat.

I clutch his shoulders, tipping my head back to give him easy access.

“Why does anyone come here?” I answer playfully, my breath hitching when he nips at the sensitive pulse point at the base of my throat. “You do own this place, right? Which means you know what people come here to do?”

He lifts his head and raises a single eyebrow, giving me a look that sends liquid heat rushing through my veins.

“Are you sassing me, dirty girl?”

“What if I am?”

He gives me a slow, sexy smile that promises all sorts of sinful punishments if I don’t give my Dom what he wants—an answer.

“I’m here to fuck my boyfriends.” I drag my hand down his firm chest, then hook my fingers into his waistband. “But I forgot my panties. Do you think I should go back and get them, or…?”

He groans. “Fuck, you really are a little menace. We’ve been waiting for you.”

He scoops me up in his arms, gives me a filthy kiss, then carries me down the hall with ease. Tristan and Ryder are waiting for us in a private room that’s off-limits to the public.

“She claims she forgot her panties,” Beckett announces as soon as we get there. “One of you want to check that for me?”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Ryder says, sliding his hands up my thighs and pushing the skirt up to my waist as Beckett holds me against him. “Bare, wet, and almost ready for us,” he confirms, a rasp in his voice.

“Almost?” I repeat breathlessly.

He flashes a wicked grin. “You’re still wearing way too many clothes, love.”

So are they, and as soon as they get me naked and set me down on the wide, plush couch we’ve all fucked on so many times, their clothes start coming off too.

“What’s that?” I ask, popping to my feet and running my hand over Beckett’s chest. I know his body like the back of my hand, and while he’s already decorated with quite a few intricate, beautiful tattoos, I know for a fact that this particular spot—right over his heart—was blank.

Now it’s not.

He smiles down at me, holding my hand to his chest, then using my own finger to trace the new ink.

“I drew this,” I whisper.

It’s from a silly drawing I made when we were snowed in at the hotel during our road trip last year. We’d been joking around about whether or not every snowflake could truly be unique, and to prove my point, I sketched out a whole series of intricate, unique snowflakes on a piece of the hotel’s stationary. That led to the men all voting on which one was best.

This is the one Beckett voted for.

“Did you know that snowflakes can represent transformation and change?” Tristan asks, stepping closer.

I suck in a breath as I look over at him. He has fresh ink over his heart too. Another one of my snowflakes.

“You’ve changed us, love,” Ryder murmurs. “You’ve transformed our lives in more ways than you can ever imagine.”

He has new ink too.

“I can’t believe you guys did this,” I whisper. Then I laugh, shaking my head. “Actually, yes I can. You are nothing if not persistent in showing me how much you love me. Thank you. You mean everything to me.”

“Persistent, hm?” Ryder says, pulling me against him and tipping my chin up for a kiss. “You want us to prove just how persistent we can be when it comes to showing you how we feel about you?”

“Yes, please.”

“Let me start,” Tristan murmurs, turning my head while Ryder still holds me, kissing me deeply as well.

“Not before I get a turn,” Beckett rumbles, stepping in and devouring my lips until I’m dizzy.

“You’re so perfect for us, freckles,” Tristan whispers, stroking his thumb over my lower lip before stepping away. He comes back with a blindfold. “Trust us?”

“Always. Green .”

I’m breathing hard, my chest rising and falling rapidly as Tristan covers my eyes. Ryder guides me to the edge of the bed, then turns me so that I’m facing it.

“Lean over,” he murmurs.

He helps me position myself, bent over the bed, legs spread wide and ass in the air.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking a hand down my back. “Now let’s make sure that pussy is nice and wet and ready to take all of us.”

Then he’s on his knees, big hands holding my thighs apart as he eats me out until I come on his face.

“Guess you didn’t need those panties after all,” Beckett rumbles, running his thick fingers through my hair. Then he guides his cock to my face, rubbing his shaft over my cheeks.

I instinctively turn toward it, running my tongue over the row of piercings running up its length. Then, as Ryder enters me from behind, Beckett pushes his thick cockhead into my mouth.

“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you look when you’re stuffed full on both ends?” Tristan murmurs, stroking my back. Then he slips his hand beneath me, tugging my clit piercing as Ryder groans and drives into me, and I come, my scream of pleasure muffled by Beckett’s cock.

“Oh fuck, so good, love,” Ryder, pants, pulling out and letting Tristan take his place.

It’s not long before I’m lost in the sensations as all three men pleasure me, bringing me to one orgasm after another. Filling every one of my holes until I’m floating, filled with their cum and riding on a sea of bliss that only they can bring me. I’m breathless and euphoric by the time they’ve all finished, and they wrap me in their arms, still blindfolded, and gently bring me back to myself.

“Drink something, love,” Ryder murmurs, holding a bottle of water to my lips.

Beckett pushes my sweaty hair back from my forehead, then presses a lingering kiss there. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Tristan turns my head as the other two move away, kissing me softly. Then I’m alone on the plush couch.

“Can I take the blindfold off now?” I ask, feeling as relaxed and languid as a cat in the sun.

“That’s our job, little menace,” Beckett says, his voice low and husky and filled with a smile I’m eager to see. “Close your eyes.”

I do it, and he carefully unfastens the blindfold, removing it and running his thumbs over my eyelids and stepping away.

I open my eyes… and gasp.

All three of them are down on one knee in front of me, each holding a small ring box.

My heart races.

Tristan speaks first, his voice soft but steady. “This past year has been the best one of my life. And just like this…” He brushes the fingers of his free hand over his new ink. “I want to make it permanent. Will you marry us?”

He opens the ring box he’s holding, a stunning white gold band with a uniquely shaped diamond.

My breath catches as I meet his eyes and nod, tears springing to mine.

Ryder grins, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Christmas isn’t the only thing you’ve taught me to love. And there’s nothing I want to do more than keep doing that for the rest of my life. Marry us.”

When he pops his ring box open, it’s a gorgeous platinum band with another uniquely shaped diamond in the center.

I nod, wiping at my cheeks as the tears start flowing down my cheeks.

Beckett’s expression is intense, his words gruff but sincere. “Lana, we’re better with you. All of us, but especially me. You’re already ours, but I want to make sure you’re ours forever. Marry us.”

“Yes!” I laugh, wiping at my cheeks as my face splits into a joyful smile. “Oh my god, yes, yes, yes!”

The ring Beckett chose has a titanium band, and it’s only after all three of them slip them onto my ring finger, marking me as theirs, taken, loved, that I realize the uniquely shaped diamonds on each ring all fit together to form a huge, stunning stone that reflects every facet of my love for these men.

And their love for me.

The scent of cinnamon and pine fills our home as I put the finishing touches on the dining table. It’s Christmas Day, and we’re hosting for the first time in our new house.

I smile as I take in the festive wonderland around me. It’s not a white Christmas, not here in L.A., but my men have still helped me turn our home into our own private winter wonderland.

A little more enthusiastically than I expected.

“Ryder, did you add more tinsel?” I call out, noticing a fresh sparkle on the tree.

His head pops around the corner, grinning sheepishly as he adjusts the rakish Santa hat on his head. “Maybe.”

I laugh, shaking my head. It’s hard to believe this is the same man who once claimed to hate the holidays. This year, he’s been the driving force behind our home’s transformation into a winter wonderland, and I honestly don’t know if it’s because he’s grown to love it too, or just because he loves me so much.

Either way, I love it. Every surface seems to twinkle with lights or shimmer with ornaments, and I can’t wait to welcome the family we have flying in from New Hampshire here to share it with us.

The doorbell chimes, and I hurry to answer it. Vivian stands there, looking happier than I’ve seen her in years, with Oliver bouncing excitedly by her side. Behind them is James, Vivian’s new boyfriend, looking a bit nervous but smiling warmly.

“Merry Christmas!” I exclaim, hugging each of them. “Come in, come in!”

“Is Uncle Beckett here?” Oliver asks eagerly, trying to peer around my legs.

Vivian ruffles his hair with a laugh. “I think you meant to say ‘thank you for having us, Auntie Lana,’ isn’t that right?”

He nods enthusiastically, mumbling the required greeting, then races past me to throw himself at Beckett.

Beckett’s face softens in that private way that still gets me every time, and scoops the little boy into his arms for a quick hug. It ends with Beckett dangling my nephew upside down and making him giggle like a maniac.

He sets him down and points him toward the plate of gingerbread cookies I set out earlier as Vivian, James, and I enter the room, their luggage in tow.

All three of my men instantly straighten up, their gazes zeroing in on James as their smiles drop away and they go into protective older brother mode.

I bite back a laugh, exchanging a look with Vivian.

“Oh boy,” she murmurs. “They’re not going to?—”

“So, James,” Beckett rumbles, crossing his arms. “What are your intentions with Vivian?”

James looks startled, and Vivian rolls her eyes.

“Oh lord, they are,” she whispers.

I laugh. “They love you too, you know. You’re family.”

Her cheeks turn pink, but she still puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head at them. “Really, guys? He’s not some teenager picking me up for prom. Back off.”

They grumble, but relax and come over to welcome James with handshakes and smiles just as the doorbell rings again.

“I’ll get it,” I call out, leaving them to get to know Vivian’s new man.

When I open the front door, I’m greeted by Caleb’s broad grin and Grandma Meg’s kind smile. Baldwin yaps excitedly from her arms, his festive hand-knit sweater making him look like a tiny, adorable reindeer.

“Merry Christmas!” I exclaim, pulling Caleb into a bear hug before turning to Meg. “Thank you so much for coming. How was your flight?”

“It was just lovely, dear. I can’t thank you enough for upgrading my ticket to first class.”

“As if we’d let you fly any other way,” I tell her, hugging her tightly after she sets Baldwin down.

He dances around our feet, and I scoop him up, laughing as he showers me with puppy kisses.

I’m happy to see that the guys have quit giving James a hard time when we join the others in the living room. Everyone looks happy and relaxed, the atmosphere warm and inviting and everything I’ve always wished for Christmas to be.

Caleb immediately starts teasing Ryder about his ugly Christmas sweater, while Tristan greets his grandmother warmly and settles her into a plush armchair we all picked out specifically with her visit in mind. Oliver chases after Baldwin excitedly, while Meg accepts a mug of hot chocolate from Beckett with a fond smile.

After we help our guests get settled, I find myself sandwiched between Caleb and Vivian on the couch, and as we chat and laugh together, I’m struck by how different this Christmas feels from any other. Not just because of my men, but because of how close I feel to my siblings now, and how full of happiness and love my home feels for the holiday.

Caleb chuckles, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I sure didn’t see it coming. But I’ve got to admit, sis, you’ve put together one hell of a family here.”

I look around the room, smiling so widely that my cheeks hurt. The room is filled with laughter, love, and the perfect amount of chaotic energy. Leaning into Caleb’s side, I rest my head on his shoulder as I watch my three fiancés interact with the people who mean the most to me.

“You’re right,” I tell him softly. “I really have.”

As if sensing my gaze, Tristan, Ryder, and Beckett all look up, their eyes finding mine across the room. The love I see reflected there makes my heart expand like a balloon.

Ryder adjusts his flopping Santa hat, Tristan pushes his glasses higher on his nose with a smile, and Beckett taps his heart right over his new ink and mouths, “Merry Christmas.”

I mouth it back as I play with the interlocking rings on my finger, taking a moment to appreciate just how lucky I am.

This is home. This is family. This is where I belong.

And now it’s mine forever.

Thank you so much for reading Filthy Rich Santas !