My Secret Santa Daddies (Silver Ridge Christmas)

5. Sierra

5

SIERRA

I go through the same routine every night. Wash my face, brush my teeth, pull my hair back into a loose ponytail, and slip into an old T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms that have seen better days.

Tonight, though, my mind isn’t on the routine. It’s still tangled up in the events of the day—Wyatt and Cody showing up unexpectedly. Tall, rugged, and standing in my doorway. Cody's lazy grin that makes me both want to punch him and melt at the same time. Wyatt, on the other hand, is the quiet storm. He stands beside Cody, taller, bulkier, like he’s carved out of the same wood that built these mountains.

Damn them.

Damn them and their boots and flannels.

I climb into bed, the soft weight of the comforter pressing down on me, but my mind won’t quiet.

My room is dark, save for the soft glow of the small lamp on my nightstand. I turn it off, plunging the space into darkness, and tug my blankets to my chin, hoping sleep will come soon.

Eventually, it does. But with sleep comes the dream.

I’m lying on my back, beneath a Christmas tree—an enormous, glowing tree decorated to perfection, with twinkling lights and shimmering ornaments. The air smells of fresh pine, and the warm, golden glow of the lights casts a soft, dreamlike haze over everything.

The perfect Christmas set up.

The needles of the tree brush lightly against my skin, and I can feel the softness of the carpet beneath me, almost like velvet. It feels peaceful here.

A bright red bow sits on top of my head, the satin smooth beneath my fingers as I touch it, my breath coming fast and uneven. I look down and find myself dressed in soft, sheer fabric—white like fresh snow, but it’s thin enough that my skin glows beneath it, bathed in the warmth of the tree’s lights. It covers nothing and exposes everything.

My bare feet sink into the plush carpet beneath me, and I feel like a gift—wrapped, waiting.

For what? For whom?

The air shifts, and suddenly, I’m not alone.

I turn, and there they are.

Wyatt and Cody.

Wyatt steps into view first, his tall frame silhouetted against the soft glow of the Christmas tree. His green eyes find mine. He steps closer, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body, melting the cold air around us. My heart races as he closes the distance.

He looks down at me, taking in every inch of my skin, his lips curling into a slow, easy smile.

“You always were a gift, Sierra,” he says, his voice low and smooth. “Didn’t even know it back then.”

Cody is right behind him, his eyes sparkling with desire.

He crouches beside me, his hand brushing gently over my bare shoulder, trailing down my arm, sending a shiver through me. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost teasing. “Wrapped up all pretty for us. You always did know how to surprise a guy.”

I should feel embarrassed. I should feel something other than this strange mix of excitement and warmth. But I don’t. Lying here under the tree, with the lights flickering above me and their eyes on me, I feel... wanted .

“Well, we must have been very good this year for such a treat,” a third voice murmurs from behind them.

Griffin steps forward from the shadows.

When he draws near, he stares at me like I’m something precious, something he’s been searching for. His hand reaches down, his fingers brushing lightly over my cheek, and I swear the warmth of his touch spreads through my entire body.

His thumb moves along my jaw to my lips, pressing on them slightly.

“I’ve missed this mouth, missed you.”

Wyatt crouches down in front of me, his eyes locking with mine as his hand brushes against my thigh, tracing up the curve of my hip, and I gasp. Cody’s hand slides underneath the hem of the sheer nightgown, teasing over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh as Griffin's thumb continues to trace the line of my bottom lip.

“Did you miss us?” Griffin asks, his voice low and husky in my ear.

I can only nod in response, because how can I say no? How can I deny it when they’re here—all of them?

The weight of their attention—of their desire—is staggering.

Heat pools between my thighs as I look from one pair of eyes to another, anticipation coiling low in my belly.

The three of them stare down at me, their eyes hungry—no, ravenous . It’s like they can’t wait to unwrap me and see what’s inside.

And, God help me, neither can I.

Griffin leans down and brushes his lips against mine, his touch is feather light, barely noticeable but it sends a trail of fire where it touches.

“Merry Christmas, Sierra,” he whispers against my lips, then he opens my mouth with his own, sliding his tongue between my lips. I moan into him. I remember how he tastes, how his mouth feels and the way he kisses.

I’m greedy for his kisses, but he withdraws.

Wyatt’s turn is next, his kiss firm and possessive, his tongue darting out to taste me, teasing me with the promise of more. “Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispers.

Then it’s Cody’s turn. His kiss is playful at first—a peck on one cheek, then the other—before he pulls back and catches my lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing it with a warm open-mouthed kiss that leaves me breathless.

He melts away from me to stand beside the others. The three of them are grinning at me like kids who’ve just been given an early Christmas gift.

And there I am, laying on the floor looking up at them as they start to peel away their clothes. I shudder, already feeling my body press itself against the edge.

Their hands start to move, and my defenses crumble like the delicate tissue paper that surrounds me—their fingers, lips and tongues are a delicious, sensual blur as they unwrap the bow from my head, pulling away the dress from my skin.

Their fingers are everywhere now—on my breasts, my stomach, between my thighs.

Wyatt cups my breast, his fingers brushing against my hard nipple, and I moan. Cody’s mouth is on my neck, his teeth grazing along my collarbone as he works his way down, lower, lower. And Griffin… Griffin’s warmth is there between my legs, his hand cupping my aching center, massaging me.

“You’re wet for us,” he growls in my ear, and the possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. “How long has it been? How long since you felt this way?”

I can’t answer him; the words won’t come. All I can do is whimper as their fingers and tongues and lips continue to tease and torment me, driving me higher and higher.

I can’t lie still, can’t do anything but arch up into their touches, wanting more, craving more. I feel like I’m unraveling under their combined attention, like I’m going to fly apart at any moment?—

And then, just when I think I can’t take it anymore, they stop.

I whimper in protest as their hands pull away, leaving me aching and empty and on fire all at once.

“Aww,” Cody purrs in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Looks like someone’s been a very naughty girl.”

Wyatt chuckles darkly. “Looks like someone’s been missing us.”

“We missed you, too,” Cody whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “Missed this,” he adds, slipping a finger between my legs and inside, finding the heat that pooled there.

“Show us,” Wyatt demands, his voice rough with lust.

And in that moment, any semblance of modesty or restraint I might have once had vanishes like smoke in the wind. I arch into their touches, moaning softly as they continue their sensual assault on my body. Hips bucking, I ride their fingers, desperate for more—desperate for them.

“That’s it, baby,” Wyatt whispers, his voice husky with desire. “Show us how much you missed us.”

And I do. I show them—my moans and whimpers and the way my body responds to their touches giving away all my secrets. I’m so close, so achingly close, but they pull away again, leaving me a quivering, boneless mess.

“Not yet,” Griffin warns, his voice a growl in my ear. “Not until we’re inside you.”

Inside me. The very thought sends a shiver down my spine as they each discard their pants, revealing hard, throbbing erections. My mouth waters as I look at them, at what they could do to me, with me. And oh, God, how I wanted them to.

Griffin is the first one in, his cock thick and throbbing as he eases himself inside me, stretching me in a way that hasn’t happened in years. It feels so good, so right. I moan as he pounds into me, his hips slapping against mine in a delicious rhythm.

It’s all heat. All passionate, deep-hard fucking.

As my toes curl and my orgasm rises, Wyatt moves beside Griffin; his cock sliding into me alongside Griffin’s, the sensation of being filled so completely sends a bolt of white hot pleasure through my entire body. Cody waits his turn, watching us with hungry eyes, his length in his hand, stroking himself as he watches us writhe together.

Then they move—together—taking turns, their thrusts slow and sure, each stroke sending a wave of pleasure coursing through my body. My moans fill the room, mingling with their low grunts of pleasure as they take what’s theirs. And God help me, I give it to them willingly.

“You feel so good,” Cody pants. “So hot and tight.”

Cody's fingers slide between my legs, finding the swollen nub of my clit as he starts to rub it in circles, his touch both gentle and firm.

The combination of sensations—their cocks inside me, their hands on me, and their lips and tongues on me—it’s all too much. I can’t take it anymore.

“I… I can’t,” I manage to gasp out, my eyes squeezing shut as the world around me spirals.

“That’s it, baby,” Griffin growls in my ear. “Come for us.”

And come I do. My climax rips through me like a tidal wave, crashing over me in wave after wave of blissful pleasure. I arch my back and scream their names as they simultaneously fill me with their hot seed, their moans of release mingling with mine.

And then, without warning, the dream shifts again.

I’m no longer beneath the tree. Instead, I’m in my large four-poster bed, the comforter tangled around my legs as my breath comes in rapid gasps.

Every nerve ending within me tingles.

The room is dimly lit by the same small lamp I had left on before falling asleep, but there’s no trace of the beautiful tree or the boys who had been there just moments ago.

God, I think, clutching at my chest, willing my racing heart to slow down. It was just a dream. Just a stupid dream.

But it doesn’t change the way my body feels—tingling and alive and aching in places it shouldn’t after such a vivid dream. And if I’m being honest with myself, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve had a dream like this.

For as long as I could remember, I’ve had dreams about them—the three boys from my past. And every time, it’s always the same; they come back for me, claiming me as theirs in the most intimate of ways.

But this time… this time was different.

This time it felt so real. Oh God. How desperately some dark lustful part of me wanted it to be real.

Without thinking about it, my hand drifts down between my thighs, seeking out the ache there. My fingertips graze over sensitive skin that is already slick with want.

The orgasm from my dream still pulses through my veins, and it’s all I can do to not ride my hand right then and there.

But as much as I want to, as much as I crave the release, something stops me.

No. I can’t. It’s been too long since I’ve thought about them, let alone touched myself like this.

But even as the sensible part of my brain tries to talk sense into me, my body aches for something else. It aches for them.

The uncontrollable urge is too strong, so I give in, just this once. Can’t make a habit of it or else I won’t be able to look them in the eyes.

I roll onto my stomach, tugging my shorts down and slide my shirt off.

My fingers slide easily inside me, coated in the same evidence of my arousal that had been there in my dream. I moan, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. It’s not like being filled by them—nothing could ever compare to that—but it’s better than nothing.

Slowly, methodically, I start to move my finger in and out, imitating their thrusts from mere moments ago. My other hand finds my swollen bud and starts to rub, imitating the way Cody had touched me in my dream. Wetness soaks through my panties as I recall their faces and touches.

I can still feel them—their hands on my body, their lips on my skin, their cocks inside me. God, it felt so good. So right.

I can practically hear Cody moaning my name.

“Cody,” I moan, his name just a whisper on my lips.

“Sierra!”

The sharp call of my name yanks me out of my self-induced haze, and I nearly fall off the bed in my haste to cover myself up with the blanket.

Sure enough. There’s Cody. Standing in the doorway.

"Um..." I stutter, trying to regain my composure. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes—those hazel eyes that were just watching me get pounded by Griffin and Wyatt in my dream—are wide with shock as they rake over my naked body. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and I swear I see him harden in his jeans.

“I… uh… I didn’t know you were…” His cheeks flush a dark red, and for once in his life, the notorious Cody Bellamy is speechless.