Page 47 of Chilled and Thrilled

Bram grits his teeth, his protective hold on me tightening. “Can we discuss this later?”

“Or, I could stay. It wouldn’t be the first time.” He eyes me speculatively, trying to discern whether this information is a surprise to me. “I bet Sophie would enjoy herself greatly.”

While the idea doesn’t not appeal to me, it’s clear that Bram feels differently. He growls. “You’re not laying a finger on her.”

Okay, the growly, possessive thing is pretty hot. My pussy obviously agrees, because fresh arousal floods the dick still pressed deep inside me. Bram shifts, the wiry hair at his base brushing my swollen clit, and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning.

Holden’s eyes roam over my exposed back, butt, and legs wrapped around Bram’s hips. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so territorial, partner.”

“Because she’s mine.” I suck in a ragged gasp as he rocks forward, and Bram’s hand comes up to grip my chin, turning my head so he can kiss me fiercely. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels, don’t be shy.”

My mouth falls open as he pulses in and out, fucking me. “Bram,” I whisper, my voice breaking as he lowers his forehead to mine, gazing directly into my eyes. “You feel so good.”

He isn’t going to stop. This isn’t ending until I’ve come, he’s come, and Holden is left with absolutely no doubt who I want.

I can help with that.

Reaching up, I tangle my fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss me again, harder than before. Bram’s teeth graze my bottom lip, his tongue darting out to soothe the brief sting as his hips move faster.

“Fuck,” I cry as we break apart, and there’s no mistaking how wet I am with the sloppy, crude sounds filling the office. “I’m so close.”

“Come on my dick, sweetheart,” he grits out, teeth baredas he fucks me harder. “Squeeze me tight. Show me how bad you want my cum.”

It’s as though my body is outside my control. Whether Holden is still in the room doesn’t matter, all I can think about is pleasing Bram and doing what he says. Shoving a hand between us, I rub furiously at my clit, my fingertips brushing Bram’s cock as he pumps in and out of me.

Seconds later, I’m coming, my broken sob of pleasure unrestrained as I writhe against the man holding me. Bram’s words of praise are rough, and just as I’ve sagged against him, boneless and hazy from my orgasm, his shaft twitches inside me and he wedges himself deep.

I cling to his shoulders, panting, as he holds me close. The now-familiar sensation of his release coating my inner walls is almost as good as my own orgasm was, and I kiss his jaw, worshiping him as his pleasure recedes.

The arm still banded around my bare waist tightens, and Bram lifts his head, glaring at his business partner. “You can go now.”

EPILOGUE

BRAM

ONE YEAR LATER

“Okay, we’re going to need to set some ground rules for next year.”

The entire living room is covered in torn wrapping paper and newly opened gifts, most of them my girlfriend’s. Beside us, a magnificent, ten-foot-tall Christmas tree is bedecked in so many lights and ornaments that the branches are sagging. An embarrassingly terrible gingerbread house has slumped over onto its tray on the table.

Sophie is sitting between my legs, our limbs swathed in matching red plaid pajamas and fuzzy Santa socks. Far from our last hastily thrown together Christmas, this year’s celebration has stretched back to Thanksgiving. Everything from tree shopping to advent calendars was done with great enthusiasm, and Sophie only sighed in resignation when she came downstairs this morning to find a mountain of gifts waiting for her.

“That sounds boring,” I complain, though I’m smiling as Ilean forward to kiss the patch of bare skin that’s exposed by her too-big pajama top.

Not all the things I got her were big or expensive. Some of them, like a collectible hardcover edition of the book she read and loved on her Kindle last month, are small, but Sophie was even more excited about them.

Tonight, Honor, Leni, and their partners will be over for a family dinner. I’m happy they’ll be here of course, but I’m grateful to have her all to myself for a while. Even if my stomach is churning with a combination of excitement and fear.

“You got me, like, way more stuff than I got you!” Sophie protests, gesturing around at the messy living room.

“You deserve to be spoiled.” I shrug, though my heart is beating a little faster as the moment I’ve been waiting for finally begins to make itself known.

I’ve never proposed before.

Truthfully, it’s not a position I ever expected to find myself in. Even with my daughters’ mother, marriage was never on the table. We were young, and aware—even if it was never said out loud—that we weren’t terribly compatible. Then came a series of short-term relationships based on sex and little else. There was never a woman I introduced to my daughters or who spent more than a few months in my bed.

Until Sophie.

---