6 Mountain Brothers for Christmas

Digest.

Experience.

His eyes connected with mine and there was an odd sort of softness behind them. His body was chiseled underneath his clothes, but there was a slight hint of something else. Not sadness and not weakness. Softness wasn’t really the word, either.

Patience.

He was waiting for me to give him consent and there was something about that idea that made me oddly comfortable.

I slid my hand from his wrist and swallowed hard. He proceeded to remove my mask slowly. Intimately. Almost as if he were unwrapping a present. My face came into view as I looked up at him and the patience behind his eyes vanished. Now, I was looking into the eyes of a man who considered me his prey. His eyes grew steely as his hand cupped my chin and he slowly twisted my face from side to side, like he was studying me.

Making sure I was up to his standards.

“Perfect,” he murmured.

His voice was low, like rolling thunder off in the distance. He wasn’t the Da

rk Prince. He wasn’t mangled royalty. He was the oncoming storm and something told me I was about to get wet.

Soaking wet.

He raised his arm and snapped his fingers, and suddenly, a pair of servers appeared. The man and the woman were clad in nothing but straps and buckles with all of their most intimate parts on display. The man was holding an ice bucket with a bottle of what looked to be extremely expensive champagne and the woman was holding two long-stemmed glasses. I watched the man they called the Dark Prince inspect the glasses before he took a look at the champagne. He was examining everything closely, attentively, like he was in control of every single thing that went on in front of my eyes.

That was what he was trying to prove.

That he was in control.

He waved them off so they could pour the champagne. Then I saw the man hand him two glasses. He held one out for me, and I took it, rocked by the attention he was giving me. He wasn’t just making sure things were perfect for him, he was making sure things were perfect for me.

I had no idea what I was doing. I’d never even been on a proper date, much less found myself alone with a man like this. The intensity of his gaze and the fact that he didn’t speak caused my heart to pound deep within my chest. The man and the woman stood there while we sipped our champagne in the dimly lit hallway, his eyes grazing up and down my body. I could see them sparkling, drinking in my curves while his decadent lips curved around the champagne glass.

I’d finished the champagne quicker than I’d intended, causing a shadow of a grin to pull at his cheek.

He plucked the glass from my hand and, just for a second, our skin touched. It sent electricity ricocheting up my arm, puckering my skin as my eyes widened. I had no idea why this man called to my body the way he did, but as he held his hand out for me, I realized what he was doing.

He was asking for my consent again.

I could feel the wetness growing between my legs as I stared at his hand. My heart was pounding in my chest and the blood was rushing through my ears. I was a virgin, a young girl taking care of her orphaned brother. I had no experience; I had no skills. I had no idea what I was doing in a place like this and I sure as hell didn’t know how to pleasure a man like the one that was standing before me.

But I knew one thing for certain, one thing that rang out in the forefront of my mind. His commanding demeanor and his ruggedly handsome appearance called to me in a way no man ever had before and I knew, if I walked away from this, I would never forgive myself.

So, I slipped my hand within his and, for the first time since I’d seen him on that balcony, he smiled.

That smile of his could’ve lured Satan out of his lair and I shivered with anticipation as he began leading me down the hallway.

Chapter Four - Camillo

The woman placing her hand within mine looked like a princess. Like Snow White, her pale skin, ruby red lips, and raven tresses made me ache for her in a way I’d never experienced before. The innocence she exuded through her white lace dress tugged at my body, pulling me toward her like a magnet to her smooth metal gaze. I wanted to devour her and not come up for hours. The way she was silently studying me, debating on whether or not to take my hand, thundered my heart in my chest.

All I needed was her consent and I’d whisk her away into a world she’d never even dreamed of.

She was a natural submissive that much was for sure. The way she held still for my gaze while I studied her was enough to prove that to me. We walked up a back set of stairs that wound to the top of the warehouse, straight into the room that sat across the hallway from my office. I opened the door and ushered her in, leaving the pair clad only in buckles out in the hallway, guarding my door. I watched her take in the room, the darkness of it falling around her pale curves as her hand danced along the thick wooden bedpost she would soon be against.

She turned toward me, her silent stare hooking back onto my lips. I stalked toward her, my movements rooting her in her spot as I reached my finger out gently to touch her cheek. I traced her jawline, feeling the softness of her body against my touch. Then, I trickled my fingertip down her neck, grazing her pulse point as I headed for her chest.

She allowed me unfettered access to the beautiful valley between her breasts before she took in a sharp gasp of air.

I looked up into her face and saw that telltale flush creep across her cheeks. A flush that had given away so many women before her. Except she didn’t try to hide it. She didn’t attempt to fight it.