Page 20 of Sinful Mafia Santa

The same place, again. Every muscle in my body is taut. My fingers spasm. My toes point. My thighs feel like they’re roasting over an open flame.

“Nine,” I whisper. “Thank you, sir.”

“Look at all the people, babygirl,” he growls. “They’re here to see you grovel. They’re here to see you beg. Tell them what you want from me. Tell them what you need.”

They’re watching. People with cat masks, with sequins, with horns and with wires. Everyone came for the Mistletoe Masquerade, but they’ve stayed to watch me.

They can hear my ragged breath. They can smell me—salt and honey and sweat. They can see me, legs stretched, grinding my mound into the hard, iron heat of Gage’s covered cock.

“Whatever you desire.” I shape the words with my lips,barely able to speak them out loud. “Sir,” I add, drawing out the syllable on a sigh.

“Good girl,” he says. And his palm lands, harder than I dreamed I could take, sweeter than any punishment I ever imagined for myself.

Gage knows me. He’s weighed my strength to the ounce, to the gram. The spiral cord inside me unravels. My heartbeat thunders down my spine to pool between my legs, filling me, overflowing. Every stretched muscle in my body releases at once, and I pull apart at the seams.

“Ten,” I sob as my world spins apart. “Thank you, sir,” I gasp as my soul shatters.

8

GAGE

“Hush,” I say, gathering Aeryn close to my body. With my arms folded around her, I unwrap the red ribbon from her wrists. “I’ve got you, beautiful. You’re fine, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

She’s sobbing like a child, clutching at my tuxedo jacket, burying her face against my snow-white shirt. I touch my lips to the crown of her head, then smooth her hair down her back, all the while murmuring words of comfort. I’d forgotten how she looks when she falls apart. How she loses all her sharp edges, all her steel.

“Hush,” I say again, pulling her even closer.

The Heart is coming back to life. Anyone who’s spent any time at Kynk knows the importance of respecting a scene, of not interrupting a Dom and his sub. Concentration is vital—a distracted Dom could overstep his sub’s boundaries without any intention to do harm.

But club members are free to move now. Some retreat to thepublic playrooms where they can try out their Secret Santa gifts. Others head back to the Great Room for a drink and a leer. A few conversations launch with whispers, and someone laughs in the corridor outside the private rooms.

Aeryn buries her face against my chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. I feel her words more than hear them.

“I’m not.” I tighten my arms around her.

“I— I never cry like this. I… I’ve never done that before. In front of people, I mean. It was so…intense.”

“You were magnificent.”

She shifts on my lap, her bare ass riding the hard-on I haven’t managed to deflate. “Oh, Gage,” she sighs, andthat’smy Christmas present, hearing my name on her lips.

She reaches between us, but I catch her wrist before she can stroke my cock.

“Let me,” she says.

I shake my head. “I’m fine.”

“Iwantto?—”

I lower her hand to her side with enough force to remind her that I’m the one in charge. “I have a reputation to maintain.”

A wicked glint flashes in her eyes. “Trust me. Your reputation will only be enhanced when they see that thing.”

I curl my finger under her chin. Her smile is a work of art. “Letmetake care ofyou,” I say.

She huffs a little protest, but she drops her attempt to service me. My cock twitches its rebellion. It wouldn’t take much to get relief—those fingers, that mouth, that sweet, sweet pussy…

But I wasn’t lying when I mentioned my rep. I need my customers to respect my authority, to understand that my rules always matter. I’m not one of the crowd. If they ever see me hip-deep in a sub, they won’t think of me the same way again.