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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“No need to be shy,” he coos, the husky baritone of his voice going straight to the apex of my thighs. “Be a good girl and come sit on Santa’s lap.”
Santa’s smirk spreads into a full-on wolfish grin as he beckons me closer with the wave of two long fingers.
God, that lopsided, you’ll be calling me Daddy by the time I’m done with you smirk that’s ingrained in my brain.
Bet he’d be here right now trimming my tree with his big North Pole.
This isn’t your husband making love to you for five minutes before you do your skincare routine.
