All Chapters of The Forbidden Santa: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Ivy.“Say thank you.”His voice slid through my headphones low and smooth, distorted just enough to hide who he was, but not enough to hide what he could do to me.The comments on my livestream moved too fast to read properly.Tips. Requests. Men trying too hard to be noticed.But my eyes only searched for one username.BigDaddyP.A donation notification flashed across my screen.$5,000.My stomach tightened.The room around me glowed warm from the fairy lights hanging behind my bed, everything carefully arranged to look effortless. The red satin robe slipping off one shoulder. The untouched wine glass beside me. The soft music in the background.It was all fake intimacy.That was the job.“Thank you,” I said softly, smiling at the camera even though my face already hurt from pretending for the last hour.Another notification appeared almost instantly.$10,000.The chat exploded.I swallowed hard.He always did this. Dropped into my streams quietly, sat behind that black mask in the d

IvyI barely slept.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him standing in the doorway, snow melting on his dark coat, that calm, predatory stillness, and those eyes that already knew every filthy secret I’d ever whispered to the camera.By four in the morning, I gave up.I crept downstairs in nothing but an oversized sweater and tiny sleep shorts, the house dark except for the soft glow of the Christmas tree. My nipples were already tight from the chill… or maybe from the knowledge that he was somewhere under the same roof.Outside, fresh snow blanketed everything. Inside me? Pure chaos.I needed coffee. I needed five minutes where Patrick Laurent didn’t exist.The second I stepped into the kitchen, I knew I wasn’t getting it.He was already there.Leaning against the marble island in black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and a dark long-sleeved shirt pushed up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms. A mug steamed near his hand while low, sultry jazz played softly. The

Patrick.The second she whispered “Don’t,” something primal tore loose inside me.I still held back.Barely.My hands slammed onto the counter on either side of her, caging her in without touching. The marble was cool beneath my palms. Ivy was anything but. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and that oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder, exposing smooth skin I wanted to bite.She looked up at me with wide, hungry eyes, breathing fast, thighs pressed together like she was already aching.Fuck.I’d imagined this exact scene for months. She backed against a counter, wet and waiting for me to ruin her.“You should be very careful with that word,” I said, voice low and rough.Her fingers twisted tighter into my shirt.“What word?”“Don’t.”The innocent way she said it made my cock throb painfully against my zipper. She had no idea what that single word did to a man like me.I’d spent months jerking off to her streams, controlling every urge while she teased thousands of strangers. Now sh

Ivy.The house was utterly silent except for the soft creak of the old wooden stairs.I stood in the middle of my bedroom, crimson robe hanging open, heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. My thighs were still slick from the orgasm he’d commanded over the stream. For months, he'd been a voice on a screen. He'd been the message waiting when I woke up every morning. A temptation I could always turn off by closing a laptop.Tonight there would be no screen between us.When the heavy footsteps reached the top of the stairs, I forgot how to breathe.Patrick appeared in the doorway like a shadow given form — tall, broad-shouldered, wearing only dark sweatpants that did nothing to hide how hard he was. His eyes dragged over my nearly naked body with raw hunger.He stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a quiet click.For a long moment, he just looked at me. Then his deep voice filled the room, low and serious.“Ivy… if I cross this line with you tonight, there’s

Ivy.The phone kept buzzing on the table, but the sound felt distant, unimportant. Patrick’s arms were wrapped around me from behind, his chest warm and solid against my back. His breath brushed my ear as he murmured, “Not even a little sensible.”That was all it took.I turned in his arms and kissed him. Not the soft, careful kiss from moments ago — this one was hungry, desperate. Our mouths crashed together, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could already feel him hardening through his sweatpants.“We shouldn’t,” I whispered against his lips, even as my fingers curled into his shirt.“I know,” he growled, then lifted me onto the kitchen counter in one smooth motion. “But I’m going to have you anyway.”The cool marble shocked my bare thighs, but his body heat instantly chased it away. He stepped between my legs, kissing me deeper, one hand sliding under my oversized sweater to cup my breast. His thumb brushed my nipple