Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I t's been a while since I’ve let my nerd flag fly, and today? Today feels like the perfect time to take advantage of Key’s tech skills to do just that.
“Grace,” I say, pulling her aside, trying not to laugh at the suspicious look she gives me. Her eyes, all wide and curious, sparkle like fresh snow under a clear sky. “Wanna play some video games?”
She tilts her head like a confused puppy, lips quirking at one corner. “You play video games?”
“Pfft, do I play video games? I live and breathe video games, Little One. But don’t let that fool you–I’m still all muscle under this geekery.”
Grace giggles, and the sound is pure Christmas magic. Like sleigh bells and fruity candy canes, with a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar.
“Let me guess, you’re going to show off and wipe the floor with a bunch of twelve year olds?” she teases, poking me in the chest.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I wiggle my eyebrows. “Come on, I’ve got Call of Duty all loaded up in the game room. It’s gonna be fun.”
The game room in the cabin is straight out of a millionaire’s dream. Every inch of it screams luxury, from the plush leather sectional that could easily seat a football team to the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a stunning snow-covered view of the mountains. A massive, state-of-the-art flat-screen TV dominates the wall, flanked by sleek, built-in shelving holding an impressive collection of consoles, games, and custom controllers. Everything is polished, gleaming—like it was designed to be looked at, but not touched.
There’s a full-sized pool table in the corner, the rich mahogany wood gleaming under the soft glow of recessed lighting. Next to it, an arcade machine hums quietly, retro games flashing on the screen, adding a nostalgic touch to the otherwise modern, high-tech space. The walls are adorned with framed posters of classic video games and signed memorabilia, all carefully curated to give the room a mix of elegance and fun.
But what really catches the eye is the Christmas décor. The tinsel draped over the TV stand, stockings hung from the mantle of a stone fireplace, and fairy lights strung up around the windows make it feel like Santa’s workshop took over a billionaire’s playroom. Grace stands in the middle of it all, bundled up in her blinking reindeer-nose sweater and a tiny pair of shorts, staring at the setup like she’s just stepped into another world. It’s a blend of holiday warmth and obscene luxury, and I can tell she’s as impressed as I am amused.
“Okay, so what’s the deal here? I thought you’d be more of a muscle-bound hitman type and less of a...what is this game?” she asks, wide-eyed.
“Call of Duty.” I grin, grabbing the controller. “Also known as the world’s most inaccurate war simulator. Seriously, this game’s got more plot holes than a Hallmark Christmas movie.”
“Hey!” she gasps in mock outrage, crossing her arms. “I love Hallmark movies.”
“Oh, I know. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your Christmas Cookie Baking Disaster playlist. But this? This is my world.” I boot up the game, and the familiar music pumps through the speakers. “Prepare to be amazed by my complete domination.”
“Domination, huh?” She slides into the chair next to me, narrowing her eyes. “I can handle myself, you know.”
“I don’t doubt it. But this-” I gesture to the screen, “-is all about unrealistic expectations.”
After a little bit of set up bullshit, the match loads to the countdown timer just running out, and I’m dropped into the middle of a chaotic battlefield. Bullets flying, explosions going off–your typical day in COD land. Grace’s eyes are glued to the screen, and I can already tell she’s fascinated, even though I’m about to drop a major truth bomb on her.
“You see that?” I point at the screen. “Completely unrealistic. If I was really in the middle of a gunfight, you couldn’t do that. If you tried, you’d be dead in seconds.”
She laughs, her eyes darting between the carnage on screen and my overly dramatic commentary. “And you’re telling me all this as a hitman, right? I feel like I should take notes.”
I smirk, dodging a grenade that somehow manages to explode in the least damaging way possible. “You should. If COD has taught me anything, it’s that war is just a series of respawns and badly timed headshots.”
Grace, now fully invested in the game, leans forward. “Why does that guy look like he’s carrying enough weapons to arm a small country?”
“Exactly!” I throw my hands up, nearly losing control of the character. “No one runs that fast with that much gear. It’s like they think we’re all superhuman.”
“Wait, are you saying you’re not superhuman?” She raises an eyebrow, giving me a playful shove.
I grin. “Only in bed, darling. Only in bed.”
The next explosion on screen sends us both into fits of laughter, and for the next hour, it’s just us, hurling insults at the TV, laughing at the absurdity of it all. At one point, Grace gasps when I throw a flashbang in the wrong direction, temporarily blinding my own team. “And this is why you don’t get to lead missions, Teddy.”
“Hey, I’ve led plenty of successful operations .”
She just shakes her head, completely unimpressed with my in-game strategy, and I can’t help but love every second of it. The game is wild, but playing it with Grace? That’s next-level entertainment.
“Okay, okay, I see why you like this,” she admits after a particularly ridiculous sequence where my character sprinted through a hail of bullets like a superhero. “But it’s still super unrealistic.”
“Told you.” I nudge her shoulder, glad she’s having fun. “But that’s half the charm. Sometimes you just want to blow stuff up without thinking too hard.”
Grace watches as my character gets caught in a sniper’s scope, and she groans. “That was the most dramatic death I’ve ever seen.”
I lean back, smirking. “Yup, and just like that, I’m back in the game. See? No consequences.”
“Not like real life at all,” she says softly, her gaze lingering on the screen for a moment before turning back to me. There’s something thoughtful in her expression, and I know she’s not just talking about the game anymore.
“Well, here, the stakes are lower,” I say, my tone growing softer to match hers. “In real life, you don’t get a respawn button.”
Grace’s smile returns, though it’s gentler now, and she leans her head on my shoulder, making my heart do a weird little flip. “But maybe that’s why you like it,” she murmurs. “It’s a break from the real thing.”
I glance down at her, surprised. “You know, you’re pretty insightful for someone who just accused me of being unrealistic.”
“Hey, I’m full of surprises,” she teases, leaning back and rubbing her chin with her thumb. A look of intent concentration washing over her face. “Now, show me how to actually win a match, Mr. Hitman.”
“You got it, Little One,” I laugh, adjusting in my seat as we dive back into the chaos, both of us letting the ridiculousness of the game wash over us.
Grace, after a solid twenty minutes of watching me wipe out squads with ease, cracks her knuckles and mimes for me to hand over the controller, like she’s ready to take on the world. She gives me a confident smirk, that competitive glint in her eye that sends a little spark through me. She’s adorable when she thinks she’s got this.
“Alright, Teddy. Move over. Time to show you how it’s done.”
“Oh, darling, I can’t wait,” I say, handing her the controller with a smirk of my own. I lean back, watching her navigate the menu with the kind of determination usually reserved for holiday baking contests.
For a few minutes, it’s innocent enough. She’s learning the controls, and I’m offering tips here and there. You know, just to be helpful.
“Okay, so aim with this...shoot with that...and that button is–oh crap!” She lets out a little squeak as her character is immediately gunned down in a hail of bullets.
“Hey! I just spawned!” she huffs, glaring at the screen. “That’s cheating.”
I snicker. “Welcome to Call of Duty. No mercy.”
She grumbles, respawns, and this time lasts a little longer. But then she’s sniped again from what seems like nowhere.
“Oh, come on! Who hides in a corner like that? Total noob behavior,” she mutters, her eyes narrowing as she respawns yet again.
I lean in closer, trying to hide my grin. “It’s tactical positioning, Little One.”
“Tactical positioning, my cookie! They’re camping like cowards!” she snaps, jamming the controller buttons furiously as she respawns for the umpteenth time.
I try to keep my focus on the game, but the sight of Grace–a sweet, sunshiney girl in her Christmas sweater–creatively cursing out random gamers is making my heart race in all the wrong ways. It shouldn’t be this hot, but God help me, it really, really is.
“You okay over there?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady as I adjust myself.
She growls under her breath as her character gets killed again, this time by a guy with an RPG. “What the hell was that? Since when do people get those?! That’s cheating. I’m calling it. Total hacks.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s the game, Grace. You gotta be prepared for anything.”
“Oh, I am prepared,” she mutters darkly, her eyes narrowing on the screen. “Prepared to call out all these cheating, camping, lag-switching losers.”
Her hands are flying across the controller now, and every time she dies, she lets out a string of curses that makes me want to kiss her senseless.
“They shot me through a wall! Teddy, did you see that? This game is rigged!”
I try to keep my cool, but she’s leaning into it so hard that I’m honestly starting to get ridiculously turned on. Like, embarrassingly so. It’s something about the way she’s completely lost her cool, that fire in her eyes, her fingers moving with this ferocity like she’s ready to throw down with the game itself.
“You–ugh, what is this?! How is that even fair? That guy jumped, spun, and shot me all at once? What is he, Neo from The Matrix?! I call hacks. Hacks!”
The longer she plays, the more she devolves into this fiery, competitive rage. And damn, it’s sexy as hell.
“They’re all cheating. Every last one of them. There’s no way I’m this bad! The game’s out to get me!” She slams the controller onto her lap, glaring at the screen like it personally insulted her.
“That’s right, blame the lag,” I tease, voice low. “Classic move.”
“Oh, don’t give me that smug look. I’m getting better! Watch!” She picks the controller back up, determined, her fingers flying over the buttons.
But no sooner has she respawned than she’s gunned down again. Grace throws her hands up in frustration. “Are you kidding me?! There’s no way he shot me that fast. It’s like he knew where I was!”
“Maybe he’s just that good,” I say, trying not to laugh, because at this point, I’m seconds away from tackling her onto the couch and kissing her until we forget Call of Duty exists.
She glares at me, but it’s hard to take her seriously with her reindeer sweater flashing its little red nose every time she moves. “I swear, if one more of these cheaters gets me...”
I watch her get more and more worked up, her hands clenching around the controller, her face flushed with frustration. And for some reason, the more she rants about lag and cheats, the hotter I get.
“You good?” I ask, my voice lower than I intended.
“Spawn, die! Spawn, die! Spawn, die! ” She’s mid-rant, shaking the controller like it’ll somehow help. “And no, I’m not good. These guys are using aimbots or something. Total trash players.”
I bite my lip, trying to hold back a laugh, but my body betrays me. There’s something about this side of her–this fierce, competitive streak–that’s making it really hard to focus on anything but how much I want her.
“Teddy?” Grace turns to me, finally noticing the look on my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I lean in, my hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. “You have no idea how sexy you are right now.”
“Teddy, are you seriously getting turned on by me yelling at a bunch of gamers?”
“Yup.”
She blinks, clearly taken aback, but then a sly smile spreads across her face. I chuckle, sliding a hand to her waist and pulling her onto my lap.
Her laughter rings out, light and sweet, as she straddles me, the controller slipping from her hands. “Well, in that case, maybe I should lose more often.”
“Or,” I murmur, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “We can just skip the game entirely.”
Her breath hitches, and I can feel her body tense slightly against mine, as if she’s weighing her options. The flicker of the TV screen plays off her face, casting her in this soft, warm glow, but her focus is all on me now. Not the game. Not the controller that’s been forgotten in her lap. Just me.
“I think I quite like that idea,” She groans as I grind her down on my lap.
That’s all the confirmation I need.
In an instant, I’ve got her lifted, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist as I stand, the controller falling to the floor with a thud that neither of us cares about. The fire that had been brewing beneath her teasing frustration in the game is now redirected, aimed entirely at me, and damn if I don’t feel like the luckiest man alive right now.
I move us swiftly, pushing her back against the wall of the game room. The decorations the guys helped me set up earlier shake with the sudden impact, but neither of us cares. My mouth crashes into hers, and all that snark and sass she’d been dishing out moments before transforms into something else–raw, uninhibited need. Her hands thread through my hair, tugging with just the right amount of force to send a jolt of pleasure down my spine.
Her lips part, and I take full advantage, deepening the kiss, exploring her mouth with mine like I’m starving. Hell, maybe I am. Starved for her, for this. For the feel of her pressed against me, her warmth melting through the layers of fabric between us.
“Teddy,” she moans, the sound vibrating through my chest, spurring me on. I grip her hips tighter, feeling her grind against me, searching for friction, for more.
“God, Grace,” I murmur, trailing my lips down her jawline, pressing soft kisses against the sensitive skin of her neck. Her pulse beats wildly beneath my lips, and I can’t resist nipping at the delicate flesh, earning a soft gasp from her.
“You’re such a tease,” she whispers, her fingers tightening in my hair, pulling me back to her lips.
I chuckle against her mouth. “I’m just getting started.”
I make quick work of the sweater she’s wearing, pulling it up and over her head, discarding it without a second thought. Her bare skin is warm, soft under my hands as I trail them down her sides, my fingertips tracing the lines of her curves like I’ve been dying to do all day.
She moans again, and this time, it’s all for me, not some digital avatar.
“Keep making that noise, Grace,” I growl into her ear. “It’s driving me crazy.”
She lets out a little growl in response as she pushes me away until she’s standing on the ground once more. The fire the game pulled forth is blazing hungrily in her eyes as she loses her patience with me and pulls at my shirt until I help her take it off. Then, she’s working on the buttons of my pants with just as little composure. It isn’t until I’m completely naked that she pauses, pushing me again until my legs are hitting the couch and I fall onto the seat. I smirk, loving this assertive side of her as she straddles me again, her bare skin against mine making my entire body hum with anticipation.
“You think you’re in control now, huh?” I tease, gripping her hips and guiding her movements, feeling her grind against me.
Grace’s eyes lock onto mine, and I swear I see the fire spark–a burning need that matches my own but with something fierce and wild behind it. She presses down harder on my lap, grinding herself against me in a way that sends electricity shooting up my spine. Her hands are gripping my shoulders like she’s claiming me, trying to take control. For once, she’s not just going along for the ride–she’s taking charge.
But damn if I’m not going to make her work for it.
Her breath catches, but I don’t give her time to process. In one swift motion, I’m up and I flip her over, her body falling forward onto her hands and knees. The surprised gasp she lets out turns into a soft, needy moan as I grip her hips from behind, pulling her back against me.
"You're not winning this one, Little One," I growl, my voice thick with the heat of the moment.
She tries to push back, to reclaim control, but I don’t let her. I grip her waist firmly, keeping her exactly where I want her, making her feel every inch of what she’s up against.
I lower my lips to her back, kissing along her spine as she shivers under my touch. My fingers trail up her sides until one is wrapped around her throat, slow and deliberate, before I pull her up to meet me. Her back presses against my chest as her body arches into mine.
Her breaths come in short, ragged gasps as my other hand dips lower, teasing her, making her squirm in my grip. She’s caught between trying to hold onto some semblance of control and surrendering completely to the fire burning between us. The battle raging within her is palpable, her body trembling with need as I hold her tight against my chest.
I can feel her pulse racing under my hand, her skin warm and flushed. She tries to push back again, her hips grinding against me, but I tighten my grip, my hand tightening around her throat as I press her harder against me.
“You’re mine tonight, Grace,” I growl into her ear, my voice low and rough, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear as I speak. “You feel that? That’s me, controlling every single inch of you.”
Her moan is soft, almost breathless, but I can hear the frustration behind it. She wants to fight, wants to take control, but every time she pushes, I pull her back, keeping her exactly where I want her.
Her breath hitches when my fingers finally reach her core, teasing her, drawing out soft whimpers and gasps as I move slowly, deliberately, making her feel every second of the pleasure building between us. She pushes back harder, her hips grinding against me, but I’m not giving her what she wants. Not yet.
“Teddy,” she breathes, her voice a mixture of need and frustration. Her hands grip mine, trying to guide me, but I keep the pace slow, savoring every sound she makes, every twitch of her body.
“You want more?” I murmur, my lips brushing against her ear, my fingers still teasing her, making her squirm in my arms. “You’ll have to beg for it.”
She groans, her head falling back against my shoulder, her body arching into mine, trying to take what she wants. But I hold her steady, keeping her on the edge.
“Teddy...” she moans again, her voice strained, desperate. “Please!”
A slow, satisfied grin spreads across my face at her plea, the sound of her breaking down sending a surge of heat through me. I move my hand just a fraction faster, my fingers slipping into her heat as she gasps, her body trembling against mine.
“Good girl,” I whisper against her skin, my voice rough and full of want.
Her body melts into mine, the tension in her muscles releasing as she gives in. Her breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps as I finally give her what she’s been craving. Her hips move in time with my hand, her soft moans filling the room as I push her closer and closer to the edge.
I can feel her tightening around me, her body trembling as the pleasure builds, her gasps growing louder, more desperate. She grips one hand tightly in my hair and one on my hand around her throat. I press my lips to her neck, trailing soft kisses up to her ear as I murmur, “Come for me, Grace.”
With a sharp cry, she shatters, her body shaking as she falls over the edge, my arms holding her tight as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through her. I don’t give her any time to come down from the high before I’m positioning my cock at her entrance and thrusting into her still quivering heat, claiming her completely.
She screams out at the intrusion, body shuddering as she tightens around my cock, instantly flying over the edge of oblivion once more.
“Fuck, yes,” I hiss as her cunt grips me almost painfully.
Releasing her neck, I push her forward until she steadies herself against the back of the couch. With both hands firmly gripping her hips, I thrust into her with an intensity that feels like my existence hinges on it.
She meets me thrust for thrust, matching my savage rhythm, her moans turning into gasps of pleasure with each slam of my hips. The sound of her screams and whimpers, the way her body moves with mine, it’s enough to drive me to the brink of madness. Her hands grip the back of the couch so tightly her knuckles whiten. Pushing back against me, her hips roll to meet every move I make.
“That’s it, Little One. Take it all,” I growl.
The heady scent of sex fills the air, intoxicating us both as we push each other further and further, teetering on the edge of reason. The room spins around us, every thought consumed by this moment, this connection. All we are is this maddening pleasure. This desperate need to take and be taken.
Her body shudders beneath me, her gasps turning into breathless cries as we lose ourselves in the moment. Every thrust pulls me deeper into her. Every movement drives us both closer to that dangerous edge where control is no longer an option, only raw, unfiltered desire. Her hips meet mine with such fervor it feels like she’s trying to fuse us together, the heat between us becoming almost unbearable.
“Fuck, Grace…” I growl, my hands gripping her hips so tight I’m sure there will be marks, but I can’t stop. I won’t. She feels too good, too perfect, the way her body takes everything I give and begs for more.
She arches her back, pushing against me harder, her head tilting back as her cries fill the room. I can feel her trembling, the tension building in her muscles as she nears the edge again, her body clenching around me like a vice. The way she responds to me, the way she moves, it’s too much–it’s everything.
“More,” she breathes, her voice thick with need. “Please…harder!”
As you wish.
I somehow manage to double my efforts, driving into her with a ferocity that leaves us both gasping. It’s brutal, wild, completely unhinged. And she fucking loves it.
Her cries grow louder, her nails digging into the back of the couch as I pound into her with reckless abandon. Each thrust sends shockwaves through both of us, and the intensity of it all drives me closer to the edge. The way her body moves with mine, the way she matches my every motion, it’s like we’re feeding off each other’s need, pushing each other higher.
I grip her hips even tighter, feeling the slick heat between us, the sound of skin against skin filling the room along with her breathless moans. Her back arches, pressing her body even closer to mine as she pushes back against me with every thrust. It’s primal, raw, and I can feel her losing herself in it just as much as I am.
"Yes. Yes. Yes!" she gasps, her voice ragged and desperate.
Her words make me growl, my body responding before my brain can catch up. I thrust into her even faster, feeling the way her muscles clench around me, pulling me deeper, tighter. The way she responds, the way her body gives in to every motion, it’s almost too much to handle.
With a broken gasp, her body tenses, then shudders violently as her orgasm rips through her, her head falling forward as she surrenders completely to the pleasure coursing through her. The way her muscles clench around me like a vice. The way my name spills from her lips in a ragged cry. It’s enough to send me spiraling right after her.
I can’t hold back any longer. With one final, deep thrust, I bury myself inside her, my release crashing over me with such intensity that I groan her name, my body shaking as I coat her channel with my seed. The pleasure is overwhelming, drowning out every thought, every sense, until there’s nothing but her.
For a long moment, we stay like that, both of us trembling, our bodies locked together as we come down from the high. My breath is ragged, my heart pounding, and I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingers where they still grip her hips.
Slowly, I loosen my hold on her, my hands moving gently up her sides as I press soft kisses to her shoulder, my body still humming with the aftermath of what we just shared. Grace lets out a soft, contented sigh, her body relaxing into mine as she slumps forward slightly, resting her head against the back of the couch.
“Holy...shit,” she whispers, her voice breathless and full of satisfaction.
I chuckle softly, leaning down to kiss her neck, still trying to catch my breath. “Yeah...you okay?”
She laughs, the sound low and warm, and she turns her head slightly to meet my gaze. “More than okay. That was...wow.”
I grin, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as I press a tender kiss to her cheek. “I’m glad you liked it.”
She leans back into me, her body still warm and pliant, her breath slowly evening out as I pull her flush against me to lay on the couch. “Good Game!” My brows shoot up as she crooks her arm, holding a closed fist out to me.
I laugh, obliging her request with a fist bump before wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close, savoring the way her body fits perfectly against mine.
“Good game, Little One.”