Dirty Christmas
Victor roared, collapsing onto her, their breaths mingling.
In the afterglow, snow swirled outside, but warmth enveloped them. Victor kissed her forehead, surprisingly tender. “Stay. Not as maid. As mine.”
Elena smiled, tracing his jaw. “Merry Christmas, Victor.”
The tree lights twinkled on, their heat a promise of more forbidden nights in his world of luxury and lust.