Dark Christmas: A Bratva Next Door Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)
Dark Christmas: Chapter 29

“You’re getting good at this,” I say as I watch her pull down my zipper. “I love how much you’re taking control.”

There’s something different about her tonight. It’s subtle but it’s there. I can’t put my finger on it, though. It’s like that old cliché about how loving someone makes them more beautiful, and fuck, do I love her.

Before I can overthink it, her hand reaches down, wrapping around my cock. Instantly, I’m yanked out of my head and back into the moment. She strokes me slowly, her touch firm and confident, and I can’t tear my eyes away.

She smirks up at me, playful as always. “Guess I’ve learned from someone who’s pretty bossy between the sheets.”

I grunt in response, but I can’t help the grin tugging at my lips. “Guess I’ll have to teach you a few more things, then.”

She leans down, her tongue teasing the tip of my manhood before trailing all the way down to the root. I groan, my hand instinctively tangling in her hair as she takes her time, savoring every inch of me.

My heart pounds as all thoughts disappear. All I can focus on is her—how good she feels, how much I need her, and how she’s managing to take control of me all over again.

“God, you’re sexy,” I murmur as I watch her, mesmerized by how focused she is, how much she seems to enjoy this. It drives me wild, knowing she’s doing this because she wants to, not because she feels she has to.

She looks up at me, her eyes locking with mine for just a second, and the sight of her lips around me nearly pushes me over the edge. I groan again, my hips bucking slightly as she takes me deeper.

“You feel so good, baby,” I whisper, my hand tightening in her hair, guiding her just a little. “I love how you make me feel.”

I’m falling harder for her with every touch, every breath, every moment I spend with her. And not just during sex.

She picks up the pace, her mouth moving faster, and I can feel it—I’m right there, ready to lose it. My breath hitches, my body tightens, but I don’t want it to end yet. Not like this. With a groan, I reach down, gently guiding her off my cock. She looks up at me, lips swollen, a mix of lust and curiosity in her eyes.

“Almost made me finish. You’re too fucking good at that.”

A wicked smile crosses her face. “I love the way you taste,” she says, her voice sultry and teasing. “And I love watching you when I’m working you like that.”

“Yeah?” I murmur, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip. “Well, I love how you look when I’m buried inside you.”

Her smile softens, and it hits me again—how much I love her. I lean down and kiss her, pouring everything I’m feeling into it. She melts into me, and I guide her onto the bed, pulling her close in a spoon position.

I slide into her from behind, her body fitting perfectly against mine, and a groan escapes my lips. I wrap my arms around her, my hands roaming her body as I kiss her neck, her shoulder, savoring every second of this.

She feels incredible, but more than that—she feels like home.

Her breath comes in soft moans, her body reacting to every move I make. She’s laid bare before me—her back arched, the curve of her hips pressed against me, every inch of her trembling with need.

“You feel so damn good,” I whisper against her neck, my lips grazing her skin. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

Her body starts to shake, her moans turning into breathless cries, and I can feel her clenching around me, on the edge of losing control. I hold her tighter, kissing her neck, murmuring loving words as I drive her right to the brink. Her body quivers, and then she breaks, coming hard around my cock.

I climb over her, pulling out just long enough to position myself on top. I take in the sight of her beneath me—her lips parted, her chest rising and falling, her hair splayed out over the pillow. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re so goddamn gorgeous,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her again.

She blushes at my words, and it only makes her sexier. She gives me a playful smirk, her eyes gleaming. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Her hands slide to my ass, gripping me with a teasing squeeze. “How long are you going to make me wait?” she whispers, her voice laced with desire.

With a groan, I push inside her, burying myself deep.

I start thrusting harder, the sound of her soft moans driving me wild. Every breath, every sigh she makes only pulls me further into her, my body responding to hers in ways I can barely control. Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging in as her body starts to tremble beneath me. I know she’s close—so close—and I want to take her right over the edge yet again.

“Come for me.”

Her moans get louder, her body tensing as I keep driving into her, harder, faster. She lets go, her orgasm crashing over her, her body tightening around me. I can feel every pulse, every shudder as she grips me, her pleasure flooding through her, and it’s enough to take me with her.

I explode inside her, my body tightening, every nerve lighting up. The feeling of her squeezing me, the warmth, the intensity, it’s all overwhelming. I empty into her, the pleasure so intense there’s nothing else, just the two of us.

I stay inside her, my lips trailing soft kisses over her face, her neck, her shoulders. I don’t want to let go of this moment.

When I finally slide out, I pull her close, wrapping her up in my arms.

“I love you,” I whisper, “more than anything.”

As she comes down from her high, I catch a very subtle shift in her mood.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

She bites her lip, then shakes her head. “Never mind; it’s nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

She glances away, her fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. “I’m just worried.”

I tighten my grip around her, pulling her closer. “You’re safe here.”

She shakes her head softly. “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”

That catches me off guard. I brush my lips against her neck, letting out a breath. “I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I’m working with Sasha. We’ve got solid leads, and we’re getting to the bottom of it. I’m not letting them get close again.”

She seems to relax a little at that, but I can still sense there’s more on her mind. Something deeper she’s not ready to share. I don’t push.

Instead, I keep holding her, my hand stroking her side, tracing soft patterns along her skin. Slowly, her breathing evens out, and she drifts off to sleep, warm and safe in my arms.

I gently ease out of bed, careful not to wake her, pulling on some clothes before heading downstairs.

The house is quiet, and I replace myself standing in the kitchen, staring at the calendar on the wall. Christmas is just around the corner. A part of me wonders what it would feel like to spend it with her, all of this danger behind us.

What a perfect Christmas gift it would be to have this nightmare over, to know she’s truly safe.

I pour myself a cup of coffee, the warmth spreading through my chest as I take a sip. But my mind keeps drifting back to Sasha. I need to hear from him soon, to get the next steps locked down. We can’t afford to lose momentum.

A chime from my phone interrupts my thoughts, the familiar alert from the Ring cam app. I pull it up, bringing up the view of the front door. Nothing. The porch is empty.

Frowning, I grab my gun from the counter, heading toward the front door. I open it slowly, scanning the area. No one’s there.

Then, out of nowhere, a little black kitten appears, padding up to the porch as if he owns the place.

I laugh under my breath, shaking my head. So, this is what set off the alert? The kitten doesn’t even hesitate, he walks right inside like he belongs here.

I’m about to shoo the little guy back out when something stops me. The cat food we picked up at the store earlier flashes through my mind. With a shrug, I head into the kitchen, the kitten following close behind, its tiny paws padding along behind me.

I grab the bag from the counter, shaking it slightly as I open it. The kitten’s ears perk up, and it lets out a tiny meow, eager for the meal. I grab a bowl, pour some of the food in, add a bowl of water, and set both down on the floor.

The kitten pounces on it like it hasn’t eaten in days, digging in with its little face buried in the bowl. I lean back against the counter, arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.

Thinking about Amelia’s “lie” earlier that we needed cat food settles in. It’s as if she knew the universe was sending us a kitten.