The Perfect Gift

2. Ashton

2 /

ashton

Rosie.

Her name pounded through my skull as I defrosted myself in front of the fireplace. A massive Christmas tree glowed in front of me, lights twisting through the evergreen branches, ornaments gleaming red, gold, and blue.

Not a single present was underneath it.

My gaze skated from the outrageously luxurious tree to the woman that sat on the massive L-shaped couch, her thighs squeezed together. Fishnet stockings clung to her tan skin, her heels shining like the ornaments. Her short black hair was smooth like satin, her sweet scent making my mouth water.

Any man could see she wanted to be fucked.

Well, perhaps any man but her husband.

She was dressed to be undressed, and I did so in my mind as I stared at her. Hawk chatted with Greg, occasionally giving me the same look we’d given each other when we’d spotted Rosie through the cabin window, looking like a damn treat. It’d been too long for both of us, and now here we were, snowed into a cabin with a beautiful, horny woman and her useless husband.

I knew I was going to fuck her tonight. My cock swelled at the thought of thrusting into her sweet pussy, making her scream out my name in front of Greg.

Her eyes slid to my bulging erection and widened, a beautiful pink blushing her cheeks. She stood up suddenly, wobbling on her heels and drawing her husband’s attention.

“Rosie? You okay?” Greg asked.

“Yes. I’m going to make some hot chocolate. Would anyone like a mug?”

“I’d love one,” Hawk said pleasantly.

Greg hesitated. “Sure. I’ll take one too. Maybe add a splash of whiskey to it.”

“I’ll give her a hand,” I said, standing up.

Greg was already looking at Hawk again, so he didn’t see how fucking hard I was for his hot wife.

Useless fucking idiot. Poor little Rosie. I followed her to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, admiring the way her dress lifted up, exposing her ass.

Fuck me. The lingerie underneath was begging to be cut off. I wanted a peek at her pussy, wanted to taste her. All of my morals were out the window. It was too goddamn cold outside to be a good man.

Greg was a good man. He’d let us in from the snowstorm. He’d trusted that my friend of ten years and I wouldn’t do anything to him or his wife.

He’d trusted that I wouldn’t breed her hot cunt right in front of him.

Big mistake.

Rosie glanced over her shoulder, batting her long lashes. “Did you want a hot chocolate, Ashton?”

“I want something else,” I said.

Her cheeks turned even more red. “Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered.

I smiled and took a step closer, and then another, until I was boxing her in against the granite counter. The tree in the living room obscured any view of us, but knowing Greg could still see us made me even harder.

“You’re dressed like you want to be fucked,” I said. “Tell me. Has Greg fucked you on your little getaway? He mentioned the two of you wanted to escape for a few days.”

Her breath hitched, her hands bracing the counter top. The curve of her ass pressed against my erection and she stiffened. “Oh god. This is wrong.”

“Am I wrong?” I murmured. My rough hands settled on her hips, hiking the skirt of her dress up. I slid my hand around to her pussy, feeling her dampness through the lace. “My, my, my. You’re a wet little slut, aren’t you? And for two men who aren’t your husband.”

“No,” she gasped. “Of course not. You’re nothing but a stranger.”

“Even better, right?” I slid two fingers inside her panties and circled her clit. Christ. I was already so close to coming, and I wasn’t even inside her yet. She was so fucking wet, her body vibrating with desperation. I pushed two fingers inside her and pressed my nose against her hair, breathing in her delicious scent as she clenched around my invasion.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Your hands are so big and rough.”

“A working man’s hands,” I said. “Unlike your husband. I bet his hands are smooth. I bet you won’t fuck his hand the same way you’ll fuck mine.”

She whimpered, rocking her hips and riding them. “This is wrong. This is wrong.”

“But you want me, don’t you? You want to be bred by two lumberjacks.”

She shivered as I humped her, the softest moan leaving those sweet lips.

“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie.” She was going to be mine, one way or another. “Taste how fucking wet you are for another man.”

I withdrew my fingers and yanked her hard against me, cupping one hand around her throat and forcing her lips apart with the fingers that had just been fucking her. She stifled a whimper as I forced them into her mouth.

“Suck,” I snarled. “Suck my fingers. Now.”

Sucking sounds filled the kitchen. I shoved them deeper, making her gag. She bucked against me, her ass grinding against my cock, her whimpers growing louder.

“Shhhh.” I pulled them free and covered her mouth. “Quiet, now. I’d hate for him to think something is wrong. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to make Hawk and Greg a nice mug of hot chocolate. Then you’re going to come back to the kitchen, and I’m going to fuck you.”

“What if I don’t want you?” she rasped.

“Then tell Greg. Tell him that a stranger just fingered you and you sucked yourself off his hand like a dirty little whore. Tell him you fucking liked it.”

“Fuck you,” she rasped, pushing back hard enough that I stepped away.

I crossed my arms and gave her a bit of space, watching her adjust her dress. She shot me an angry look, but it went straight to my cock. I wanted her to glare like that while I fucked her ass.

Fuck. I was going wild.

Being up in the mountains did that to a man. It’d been far too long since I’d had my cock in a beautiful woman, and there was something about Rosie that made me a little unhinged.

“Are you really a lumberjack?” she asked.

“That’s all you need to know about me,” I said. “Make the fucking hot chocolate.”

She shot me another dirty look and then grabbed a saucepan. I remained within arm’s length of her as she went through the motions of preparing hot chocolate. Occasionally, she’d let out a sassy huff, shoot me another glare—but then her thighs would squeeze together, or she’d come a little closer to me, tempting me.

“Taking your sweet time,” I quipped.

“Fuck you. We took you in tonight. It’s Christmas Eve. What the fuck were you doing out in a snowstorm?”

In one step, I had her caged against the oven. She gasped, leaning away from the hot burner. “Maybe I trekked all this way to fuck you, Rosie,” I whispered. Her eyes widened. “Make their fucking mugs and come back to the kitchen.”

I released her and she immediately poured two mugs, added a splash of whiskey in one, and then carried them out of the kitchen to Hawk and Greg.

Hawk glanced up, meeting my gaze with a slight nod. I’d known him for so long, I knew what that look meant.

It meant everything was going perfectly to plan.

We had Greg right where we wanted him, and Rosie would soon be where she belonged.

I fought a smile as she clearly hesitated for a moment, biting her lower lip as she contemplated telling Greg what we’d done in the kitchen. Her shoulders stiffened and then she left them, coming back to me.

Right where she should be.

“I knew it,” I said. “You want to be fucked.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. “I… I don’t know what I want.”

“Come on,” I said, taking one step, then two, then three, boxing her against the counter again. “I know what you want. I know what you need.”

I snatched her hand and forced it against the front of my jeans. Her eyes widened as she felt how hard I still was. I was fighting every fucking instinct to flip her over and fuck her right now, but I knew I’d soon be doing just that.

My balls ached. I was finally completely defrosted from the snowstorm and hungry for something only Rosie could give me.

“Tell me no,” I grunted as I turned her around. I readjusted our position, forcing her to look out at the living room, her palms flat on the counter. “If you don’t want this, tell me no.”

But she didn’t tell me no.

I wasn’t just imagining the lust in her eyes. I wasn’t imagining that she was wet for me, for us . Excitement rolled through me as I hiked up her dress, reveling in her shocked gasp. I grabbed the fishnet stockings and ripped, tearing a hole straight to her cunt. She gasped as I drove my fingers inside her again, feeling how wet she was. Like a goddamn faucet.

“God, this cunt is perfect,” I huffed. “I bet he doesn’t use it the way you like, though, huh?”

“Let me—let me go,” she gasped. “Please. My husband will see us.”

“I don’t care,” he grunted. “This cunt is mine. My naughty little Christmas gift. Ride my fingers, Rosie.”

She whimpered as she rocked her hips quickly, riding them hard and fast. Right as she came to the edge, I pulled them out, enjoying her quiet moan of protest. I unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them down, my cock bouncing free.

She looked back and her eyes widened, her lips parting in shock. “Oh my god.”

“That’s right,” I whispered. “You’re going to take all nine inches, sweetheart, in every hole you’ve got to offer me tonight. What is your husband going to think?”

She stifled a cry as I shoved her against the countertop and my cock teased the seam of her tight pussy. She was so fucking wet. I knew what desperation looked like on a gorgeous woman, and little Rosie had it painted all over her heart-shaped face.

Greg was none the wiser. He had no idea that the two strangers he’d let into his cabin were going to breed his perfect wife. I’d known it the moment we stepped inside that Hawk and I were going to take turns fucking her, passing her back and forth like our own personal Christmas sex toy. Those crimson lips were made for sucking cock. Her round ass made for taking one of us, her pussy made for taking the other.

She was ours to fuck and breed and fill. And oh god, how she wanted it. The lust that burned in me burned even brighter in her.

Rosie gripped the edge of the counter, her breaths rapid as I grazed the curve of her long neck with my teeth. “Has he been treating this cunt poorly? You’re so touch starved, aren’t you? Poor thing. You needed a real man to fuck you.”

The softest whimper escaped her.

“Poor little Rosie,” I murmured. “It’s Christmas Eve. Don’t you think you deserve this?”

“Stop,” she begged. “What happens if he sees?”

I snorted. She was trying so hard to pretend she cared, but I certainly didn’t. “I don’t care if he does. I want him to watch and know how he’s failed you. It’s what got us into this, huh? If you weren’t so horny for another man’s cock, you wouldn’t be bent over in the kitchen with a soaked cunt.”

Hawk glanced back over the couch and winked at us.

“I’m gonna give you a choice,” I grunted. “Either you get on your knees and suck me off right now, or I’m gonna ram my cock in you so hard you scream, and Greg will find out.”

Rosie hesitated before pushing back against me. I uncaged her, giving her enough space to turn around and drop to her knees.

She did so with such grace. Pleasure rippled through me as she cupped my balls, pulling my jeans and briefs all the way down. Awe shined in those pretty eyes, her lips forming an O as she circled her hand around the base of my cock.

“You’re so big,” she whispered.

“Hawk is even bigger. I can’t wait to fuck you with him.”

“No way,” she said. “I’m just going to suck you off and then we’re done. I’m a married woman.”

“You’re a married woman on your knees for me .”

Defiance melted into submission. She went still, staring at my cock for a blink before parting her sweet lips obediently and taking me into her mouth. And holy fuck, did she feel good. Heat swaddled my cock, her tongue teasing the underside of my shaft before she took me deeper. Her eyes fluttered shut, her long lashes casting shadows over her blushed cheeks.

She was a Christmas miracle. One that I was going to fuck all night long.

I slid my fingers into her satin hair and thrust forward, grunting as I hit the back of her throat. Her acrylic nails dragged down my thighs, streaks of pain followed by the pleasure of dragging my cock back, before plunging it back into her waiting throat. She moaned around me, her eyes glistening as tears threatened to fall.

I pulled back, giving her a few moments to suck in breaths.

“Rosie?” Greg called.

“Answer him,” I murmured.

“Ye—yes?”

“Can you make us a snack?”

“Son of a bitch. I made a fucking pot pie like some bullshit trad wife, but he didn’t want to eat it,” she growled under her breath. “You already had a chance at dinner! Get your own damn snack.”

Ope, Rosie was pissed. If I were being honest with myself, I was pissed for her too. If she’d cooked me a chicken pot pie, I would have eaten every single bite.

“Tell him you’ll do it,” I said. “Otherwise, he comes to the kitchen and our fun ends.”

Her eyes lit up. “Maybe I want him to see.”

“Oh, Rosie,” I chuckled. “Come on. We’re having fun.”

She huffed a sigh. “I’ll make some popcorn.”

“Thanks, honey,” Greg said robotically.

My god, the man had no fucking idea what he had.

“Open,” I commanded.

She parted her lips and I drove in, grabbing hold of her head and keeping her in place as I started to fuck her mouth.

“You’ve got a kind wife, Greg,” I called. “Smart. Sweet. Makes a great snack.”

“ Mmph.”

I winked at her and then looked up at Greg and Hawk. Greg’s attention was on the TV, and Hawk…

Well, his attention was on me.

I raised a brow, wondering when he’d join in on the fun. He didn’t need my permission to be bad, did he? One of Hawk’s favorite toys to play with was a pathetic man, and he had a damn good imagination. I was eager to see what he’d do to Greg.

Rosie choked around my cock and I went still, holding her there so she had to fight to breathe. She fought, shoving at me, raking her nails over my skin. My body lit up brighter than the Christmas tree as I fucked her, using that dirty cheating mouth how I pleased.

Mine. The possessive thought drummed through me as I thrust in and out, getting closer to the edge.

Her eyes held mine as I thrust in and out, until I couldn’t take it anymore. I lost it, coming in her mouth with a stifled grunt, giving her every drop of frustration and need.

“Good,” I whispered. “Good girl.”

I drew back, watching as she swallowed it all down, her pink tongue rimming her mouth for any remaining drops. My heart pounded. What a fucking sight. Rosie on her knees, her dress hiked up, fishnets binding her thighs, skin flushed with want. Her red lipstick was smeared, her mascara smudged.

“That’s all,” she said. “That’s all we’re doing.”

I tipped her chin up with a devious smile. “Baby, that was just my first gift. We’ve got all night long.”