Caught For The Holidays Read online

  Caught for the Holidays

  Amber Bardan

  Contents

  Bonus Content

  Copyright

  Caught for the Holidays

  Preview

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  For Her Protection

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Read more by Amber Bardan

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

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  Copyright

  CAUGHT FOR THE HOLIDAYS

  Copyright © 2016 by Amber Bardan

  CAUGHT FOR THE HOLIDAYS is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed are fictional or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  www.amberabardan.com

  Cover Design: Romance Books

  Caught for the Holidays

  Preview

  For six months, she’s tormented me. Driven me crazy. For six months, I’ve teetered on the edge of combustion. Been an aggressive monster of her creation, unable to have the one thing I need.

  Her.

  She’s made me crazy. This is her fault. Now her games have come to a conclusion she never thought could happen.

  I’m here, in her room.

  In her bed.

  Catching her for the Holiday’s and forever.

  Warning: This short romance is pure guilty pleasure. These holidays, get caught up with Matthew, a completely obsessed hero who will stop at nothing to claim the love of his life. This book contains elements of forced seduction, which may be triggers for some. Happy Ever After. No cliffhanger.

  Chapter One

  It’s not difficult to find the house. Buried at the end of a tree-lined, no-outlet street, the home is in a perfect location.

  No one driving or walking by to see a lone man standing here in front of an innocent, little white-picket fence.

  I arrived hours ago to watch her here from the pavement. I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jacket, warding off the chilling breeze.

  She changes for bed in the room upstairs, foolishly believing the elevation offers privacy. It doesn’t. Not even the euphoric glimpse of her perfect body that I’ve been dreaming about for half a year is enough to calm me down. Any man could’ve seen her.

  Seen what’s only mine to see.

  Fairy lights drip from the eve above the front door. A rushed, last-minute attempt at decorating. The empty cardboard boxes by the rubbish bin are a telltale sign she’s just moved in.

  This is her fourth move in the last three years. She’s travelled halfway across the country this time. Doesn’t make any difference to me where she’s moved. I’d find her whether she went halfway across the country or halfway across the world.

  She has to be asleep by now. Her light has been out for long enough.

  I’m not supposed to be here.

  But now I am, there’s no going back.

  I lift the hinge on the gate. The metal gives a squeak, but in a second, I’m inside the front yard and slinking around the house to the back door. The key is easy as pie to locate above the doorframe.

  She’s nowhere near careful enough, my girl.

  The back door doesn’t so much as groan as I let myself in and lock the door again behind me. The mixed scent of fruit and spices hits me on the way through her kitchen. Someone has been baking for the holidays, it seems.

  My stomach growls, but it’s not her Christmas treats I’ve come here for. I’m already hard, and I haven’t even made it to the second floor yet. The stairs are at the front of the house. I test my weight on the first riser. The staircase is firm and doesn’t betray a single sound. My pulse starts a rhythmic thud deep in my chest. I can’t believe I’m really here.

  Really doing this.

  And the excitement makes me feel indestructible.

  I envision the house from the outside and know her room has to be the second on the right. My palm’s slippery on the handle as I enter her room in the dark.

  The thud in my chest becomes a boom, boom, boom.

  I smell her the second I’m in. Fuck roses. She smells like springtime really should. Like fruit and sweetness.

  My cock swells against my fly.

  Haven’t even seen her and I’m ready to go. But then I’ve been waiting far too long for this. The bed is a shadow in the center of the room. I ignore it for now because if I glimpse her, I’ll lose all control. I close the drapes the way they should’ve been closed the moment she stepped in here.

  Can’t have anyone witness the things I’m about to do.

  I turn, and it’s an effort to breathe. My pulse roars. She’s so close. I’m so close to her. We’re in the same room.

  She’s all I think about. Terrible, terrible things swirl through my mind. Terrible things I’ve seen and done. She’s the rainbow that comes after the hurricane.

  My reward for being strong.

  To say I’m obsessed is like calling the sun lukewarm. Nothing else matters, now I’m here. She’s going to make everything better.

  I reach her bedside.

  The even sound of her breathing filters through the darkness. There’s a lamp next to her bed, but I won’t risk waking her.

  I hit the button for the flashlight on my cellphone. A soft, gentle glow illuminates the room. I set the phone on the bedside table.

  Fuck.

  My balls throb, they’re so freaking full. Since the moment I planned to come here, I haven’t so much as touched myself to ease the pain. The flashlight app’s light reaches across the room. Not enough to wake her. Enough to illuminate the fucking magnificent vision on the bed.

  My gaze eats her up.

  A sensation hits me that’s a lot like diving out of an airplane. The ground seems to rush toward me. I catch myself and begin breathing again.

  Have to remind myself to do that before the anticipation kills me.

  Just look at her—hand under her face, sweet cheek smooshed against her palm. Curled up all innocently. As if she’s an innocent girl.

  When her and I both know she’s anything but.

  The ache in my balls threatens to have this all over before I’ve touched her. I tug at my belt buckle. That’s not going to happen; everything I have, I’ve saved for her pussy.

  She’s a wicked little tease, and she’s about to be treated like one.

  I remove my clothes as quietly as possible but loop the belt in my hand and take it onto the bed with me. I’m going to have to keep her in line.

  She releases a gentle sigh. Happy. Content. When I’m in fucking agony. My nerves threatening to burst and cripple me for life.

  I crawl over the bed to her. Her five-foot, compact, little body is lost in a king size. It’s just right for me, though. I’m big enough to dominate the bed and everything in it.

  Six months.

  For six months, she’s tormented me. Driven me crazy. For six months, I’ve teetered on the edge of combustion.

  Been an aggressive monster of her creation, unable to have the one thing I need.

  Her.

  She’s made me crazy. This is her fault.

  Her hair makes a golden halo on the pillow around her.

  All my plans get lost. What do I do? My hand shakes. Don’t know where to touch first. Lust trembles my p
ulse. Anticipation contracts my thoughts to the single-minded need to fuck her until we both explode.

  I tug at the sheet covering her. A groan escapes me. I could hit myself for the way the sound cracks through the room.

  Her full tits nearly spill out of the neck of her nightgown. There’s a hint of dusky areola peeking out of pink lace.

  The pressure of my erection forces a bead of semen from my tip. I shut my eyes, taking a moment to picture something nasty to regain control, then open them and ease the sheet and blankets all the way off.

  Fuck me sideways.

  Little hussy. Not wearing underwear. The nightgown bunches at her waist. I’m consumed by the vision of full hip and the creamy expanse of thigh. My heart pounds all the way to my aching balls.

  It’s like she wants something like this to happen.

  She lays peacefully on her side. Bottom leg straight, top one bent, her toes pointed down as if she’s dreaming about being a ballerina.

  My chest tightens. She’s lucky I can’t see pussy with her laying like that, or I’d have woken her up with my cock in it already.

  Now, though, I take a moment to appreciate what I’m about to have my fill of.

  My grip clenches on the looped belt.

  She may be short, but that doesn’t mean she’s insubstantial. This woman is all substance.

  Hips, thighs, booty, tits—she’s a wet dream.

  My wet dream, and I’ve got months of fantasies stored up, and I’m going to exact them all on her.

  I take her knee and tip her gently over onto her back.

  Her eyes fly open, but I’m on her, free hand clamped over her mouth before she can let out a squeal.

  Chapter Two

  The sprawling recognition in her gaze is as shattering as it is breathtaking. Shakes me to the depths of my bones and almost hands her control. Excitement pounds a primitive beat in my blood. Drives me completely fucking primeval.

  This is the moment I’ve longed for and dreaded. The moment she sees me. Knows I’m really here.

  In her room.

  In her bed.

  That her games have come to a conclusion she never thought could happen.

  I plant my knees either side of her thighs. My hip twinges, and it’s funny—I’ve hardly felt the pain plaguing me since the moment I set foot on the sidewalk outside.

  Her bright-hazel eyes strain wide. I hold her mouth tight, trying not to look at her too hard. Trying not to let the flash of pain filling her gaze as she realizes what’s happening ruin me the way it almost does.

  “You’re not going to make a sound, are you?” My voice is low and rough, but frankly, I’m surprised I’ve managed to talk at all.

  All I want to do is growl and have my way with her like the animal she’s made of me.

  A sheen forms over her eyes. She breathes in deep through her nose, nostrils closing, and shakes her head.

  That’s a good girl.

  My guts give a flutter. I’m a full-fucking-grown man, and here I am, experiencing butterflies like a kid.

  She’ll do that to a man. Bring him to his knees and rob him of self-control, all with her tongue pressed innocently to her cheek. Like she meant no harm, when she’s received exactly the reaction she intended.

  “Not a single little sound,” I whisper. Can’t risk her waking anyone up.

  Her parents are only down the hall.

  I release her mouth and get my first unobstructed, front-on look at her face. Oh, shit. I almost roll over and throw my hands up. She’s so much damn prettier than the pale imitation my memory has been able to conjure.

  Right now, her eyes shine, her button nose sniffs, and her full lips pinch, setting off the double set of dimples in her left cheek.

  Who the hell has double dimples?

  She does.

  I don’t think she has any idea what I’ve got planned.

  She breathes in, and her chest shudders.

  I take the smooth column of her throat in my palm. Her heart beat races against my hand. “Don’t you cry.”

  I’ve come here with a purpose. She’ll throw me completely off with tears.

  She takes a deeper breath, reigning them in.

  I almost manage a smile. Looks as though when she’s not busy being a tease, she can behave. I release her throat and take her wrists, hauling them up over her head. Her fingernails bite into her palms, but she doesn’t resist. I’m twice her size and ten times her strength. I loop the belt through a wrought iron pillar in the headboard and attach her wrists, hooking the belt tight. Her gasp rings out. Have to drive a new hole into the leather with the prong before I can fasten it. You bet I’m not gentle. There’s no chance for her to get away from me until I’m done.

  I pinch her pinky, testing for circulation—not going to hurt her unintentionally.

  Then I slide down, focus on her the way I want.

  She stares up at me. Her gaze is so full of pleading, a part of me just wants to surrender to the look. Be the putty she’s used to making of people.

  But this has been such a long time coming.

  My breaths speed up.

  She didn’t really think there wouldn’t be consequences for torturing me? I tear my gaze from hers. Can’t let things get in my head too much. I’m about to die from needing her, and I’ve got to get this started.

  Her nightgown bunches at her hips, but there’s no way I’m leaving it on, and it won’t come off over her head now she’s buckled to the bed.

  One thing for it.

  I grab the nightgown in the center of the V and pull. The lace practically melts but catches where the satin begins. I tug harder. The tear is a startling split in the night.

  She arches against the tug. It’s difficult to know, really, if that’s resistance or if she’s turned on. Her fantastic tits jiggle with her breaths.

  My cock leaps at the sight. I grab hold of my erection as though I can keep the need contained. But I fucking can’t. She’s destroying me, this woman.

  I want nothing more than to unleash my load on her trembling breasts, but I’m not going to do that. There’s one place I want to plant my seed.

  I snap the spaghetti straps off the nightgown. Her chest lifts again with the softer tugs.

  Does she like witnessing how much stronger than her I am?

  That I can rip her clothes off her like they are nothing. That I’m proving over and over again tonight that no time, no distance, and no barrier can keep me from her.

  I brush the sides of the fabric from her body, so I can look my fill.

  Her hips are wide and her creamy belly gently rounded. I just want to rest my full weight on her and have her softness cradle me. Carry me. Somewhere free from the pain I’ve been holding. I rise over her and nudge her thighs open with my knee. This time, I can’t begrudge the groan that wrenches free of me.

  My sweet little tease has not had a man in her bed, nor has she been expecting one. Her pussy’s natural for me, exactly how I want it. A spattering of dark hair trailing to her soaked lips. A woman’s pussy because only a grown woman could take what I’m going to do to it.

  I can’t wait anymore.

  I sink a forearm on the pillow beside her and rub my hand over her soaked cunt. “Having sweet dreams about me?”

  Her little gasp catches me right in the heart. She doesn’t answer, but we both know the truth. This pussy is all mine.

  Even in her sleep.

  Her arousal coats my hand. I draw my three middle fingers together and sink them into her entrance.

  She jerks, letting out the softest cry.

  My digits slide in slowly—she’s too tight.

  I press my mouth to her temple. “Quiet, remember?”

  Her pussy grips my fingers so snugly. The force of my erection almost has my dick disembarking my body. I already imagine how she’s going to feel when I replace my hand with my cock. It was nasty of me, going straight in with three, but then, she’s a nasty girl.

  But I’m not all mean.r />
  She’s a little woman about to take a very big man, and that requires preparation. I lean back, needing to watch her face while I get her ready with my fingers.

  Her teeth clamp on her bottom lip.

  I stretch her, widening my fingers in her snug passage. Her eyes flare, and I know just when she gives in to pleasure. Her bottom lip pops free, and her gaze drifts heavenward.

  That’s it, baby.

  She’s so wet, she’s coated my whole hand.

  I push hard, rocking my fingers forward and back. Her hips rise. The sexiest moan I’ve ever heard works out of her. My balls contract. I’m going to blow before we’re even started, if I’m not careful.

  But I’m right on her G-spot like this.

  From the way she’s already baring down, if I keep going, she’s going to squirt.

  There’s nothing I want more than to make her gush like a porn star all-fucking-over-me, but she doesn’t get that privilege just yet.

  She hasn’t earned her privileges.

  And I’ve been waiting too long to bear another second. I slide my hand out of her and rub her juices on my dick, then sink between her thighs.

  Her exquisite body takes my weight just right. She’s so soft I could drown to death right here. Her tits compress against my chest.

  I push my cock to her cunt. She strains against the belt, her arms jerking in their restraint. Even saturated, she’s too snug for me. I take myself in hand and rub around her entrance. She’s a good girl and doesn’t whimper the way she must want to—but the entire headboard rattles with her quiver.

  I ease up a fraction and look at her. “Easy, baby.”

  She blinks, her pink lips parting, and then I’m staring at her luscious mouth.

  Good god, help me.

  I can’t kiss her. Not going to do it. But her mouth begs to be kissed. If I do, I’m going to lose my shit.

  Then I’ll hurt her.

  There’s too much violent need in me to make nice.