Chapter 12

12

JOHNNY

This Christmas (I’ll Burn It To The Ground) - Set It Off

I stand in the kitchen, the sharp scent of spices filling the air as I plate up a steaming bowl of the lunch I made. I mean, it’s no Christmas dinner, but shit, it’s better than take out. I feel like a chef, a master of my domain, taking pride in the meal I’ve crafted just for us. My snowflake and me. The anticipation of Alaska joining me heightens my excitement. I’ve never cooked for anyone else, I never cared to, but with her, I want to do it all.

Suddenly, I hear the bathroom door creak open, and my heart skips a beat. I turn, ready to see her, but what I find leaves me momentarily fucking speechless.

Alaska emerges, wrapped in my bloodied Santa jacket, the fabric hanging loosely over her naked body. The dark stains of Mark’s blood paint the jacket, a gruesome yet strangely beautiful contrast against her soft, supple skin. She pulls the collar close, but it only accentuates her curves, the jacket slipping down her shoulders just enough to tease.

“Like what you see?” she teases, a playful glint in her eye as she struts toward the kitchen island, her hips swaying with every step. Fucking hell . I’m frozen for a moment, my pulse racing, my cock hardening, the sight igniting something primal within me.

“Fucking right I do,” I finally manage, my voice low and gravelly. I lean against the counter, trying to play it cool, but I can feel the heat pooling in my core, a rush of desire washing over me as she draws nearer. “Shit, you wear it better than I do.”

She smirks, biting her lip, and I can’t help but admire how confident she is. “You think so? Maybe I’ll keep it,” she taunts, pushing back the sleeves to reveal her delicate wrists, still baring the marks from the ribbons I tied her up with earlier. The jacket slips even lower. “After all, it has a certain... character now, doesn’t it?”

“Character?” I scoff, grinning at her. “Well fuck, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” My gaze drifts to the blood, and I relish in the idea that she’s wearing a piece of my conquest—our conquest. It’s a symbol of how far we’ve come, how despite everything, we’ve woven ourselves into each other’s darkness.

She leans against the island, her bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. “You really think I look good in it?” Her voice drops an octave, sultry and inviting, as she takes a bite of the food I’ve prepared.

“So good that I’m currently fighting the temptation to grab you by your hair, bend you over the counter and fuck you into New Years,” I reply, my eyes roaming over her body, every curve accentuated by the jacket. “But I think it’s the blood that makes it even hotter.”

She laughs, a musical sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Hmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you. Fucking me while I wear the blood of your victims. Such a freak.”

I don’t even bother hiding the truth. “More than you know,” I admit, feeling the familiar heat flooding my face. The evidence of my desire presses against my pants, straining for her attention.

Alaska takes her time eating, each bite teasingly slow, her eyes locked on mine, a challenge in their depths. The way she savors the food, licking her lips after each bite, drives me fucking wild. “Mmm. You’re such a good cook, Santa. Maybe I should keep you around,” she flirts, leaning forward, giving me an enticing view of her cleavage spilling from the jacket.

“Only if you promise to wear that jacket for me more often,” I counter, my voice thick with lust. “It’s doing things to me.”

“Oh, I think I can manage that,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She finishes the last bite and wipes her mouth with her thumb, deliberately slow, letting the moment linger. “You should get used to seeing me like this.”

She saunters around the island, and takes my hand in hers, leading me toward the small living room area. Before I can process it, she’s pushing me back against the couch. I tumble down. The sudden shift in power has a grin forming on my face. “Well, well, what’s happening here?” I ask, my voice teasing, though my heart races at her boldness.

“Well I just thought, since I’m wearing the Santa suit now, maybe I could do a little giving ,” she quips, pushing my shoulders down to the couch, a wicked grin dancing on her lips. “Besides, I think you’ll like it.”

I watch, utterly entranced, as she kneels before me, her fingers deftly unbuttoning my pants. The anticipation builds, and I can feel my pulse quicken. “Fuck. You’re playing a dangerous game, little snowflake,” I warn, my voice a low growl, but the excitement in my tone betrays me.

“Well, what’s a little danger when I have you to protect me,” she whispers, her breath hot against my skin as she pulls out my cock, the cool air brushing over me. She wraps her soft fingers around my shaft, and I can’t help but hiss in pleasure. “Isn’t that what you told me? That you’d always protect me,” she adds, a sultry challenge lacing her words as she leans in, her warm mouth brushing against the tip.

My fingers dig into the couch, fighting to keep control, but it’s slipping fast. “Oh, I’ll protect you,” I growl, my voice rough and dark with lust. “But right now, you should be afraid of me . Because when it comes to you... I don’t want to stop. And I won’t.” Her lips curl into a wicked smile as she meets my gaze, eyes gleaming with dangerous intent.

“Then let me show you just how fearless I am,” she purrs, sinking down in front of me. Without breaking eye contact, she wraps her lips around me, taking me deep, her tongue flicking wickedly as she teases the head. The heat, the wetness— her —it’s intoxicating, and I can feel myself pulsing against her, the need inside me growing uncontrollable. The bloodied jacket clings to her body, and seeing her like that, with my sins draped across her skin, is enough to drive me past the edge of sanity.

“Fuck, yes,” I breathe, my eyes rolling back as she takes me deeper, her cheeks hollowing out with each bob of her head. “That’s it snowflake, just like that.”

She pulls back for a moment, her lips glistening with spit. “Yeah? You like it?” she asks, her voice teasingly sweet, yet edged with raw desire.

“Are you kidding? You’re a fucking goddess,” I reply, my words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “Keep going. Don’t you fucking stop.”

She takes me back into her mouth, the heat of her lips sending jolts of pleasure straight through me. As she moves, her hands trail over her own body, fingers grazing her thighs in slow, teasing circles, all while her eyes lock onto mine. The way she watches my every reaction—it’s maddening, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Alaska,” I growl, my voice dark and strained, the tension coiling tighter with every flick of her tongue. “Enough teasing. Come here. Now .”

She pulls back, her breath hot against my cock as she wipes a stray strand of hair from her face, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. “Is that what you want?” she purrs, her tone dripping with seduction. “You want me?”

I grip her by the waist, firm but careful, guiding her up, making my demand clear. “You know exactly what I want. Don’t make me ask twice.”

Her smirk widens, and without a word, she moves to straddle me, her hips hovering just above, taunting me with the promise of relief. Slowly, teasingly, she sinks down onto me, and the second she takes me in, I let out a guttural groan, my head falling back against the couch. My hands grip her waist tighter, grounding myself as waves of pleasure crash through me.

“Fuck, yes,” I manage, my voice trembling with desire. Despite the dominance burning inside me, I let her set the pace, giving her control, because there’s nothing more intoxicating than watching her take what she wants.

She begins to move, her thick thighs straddling me as she rocks her hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, her eyes locked onto mine, the tension between us thick and heavy. Her body—soft, curvy, and so damn perfect—moves like she was made to ride me.

“Oh fuck,” she breathes, her voice sultry as her hips roll, taking me deeper with every thrust. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it’s driving me out of my mind.

I growl low in my throat, hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer, controlling the rhythm even as I let her take the lead. “You feel so fucking good,” I rasp, watching her big tits bounce with every move, my fingers itching to grab them. “You and your tight cunt are gonna make me lose it.”

Her lips curl into a wicked smile, her eyes never leaving mine. “That’s what I want,” she purrs, biting her lip as her hands trail down her own body, playing with her curves. She’s watching me, feeling the way I react to her every move, her fingers brushing her own thighs before they dip between her legs, circling her clit while I’m still buried deep inside her.

I grit my teeth, my fingers digging into her hips as I fight to stay in control, but seeing her touch herself, the way her thick body moves, her tits rising and falling as she takes me deeper—it’s too much. “Fuck, Alaska,” I growl, my voice thick with need.

Her breath catches, a soft moan escaping her as she picks up the pace, her hips grinding against mine, her nails biting into my chest as she rides me harder. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice a sultry whisper. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

I grab her hips, guiding her movements, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I thrust up into her, matching her rhythm. “Look at you,” I growl, eyes burning with lust as I watch her, completely lost in the pleasure. “Look at these tits bouncing,” I growl, taking one of them into my mouth. I nip and suck at its peaked nipple while my other hand continues guiding her motions. “So goddamn perfect.”

She moans, her nails dragging down my chest as she rides me faster, her body moving like she’s trying to pull every last bit of control from me. “Fuck yes. Oh god, right there,” she gasps, her voice breathy and full of need. “So deep... so perfect.”

I grunt, thrusting harder, losing myself in the heat of her body. “That’s right,” I growl, gripping her waist as I drive into her, my breath ragged, heart pounding. “Take every inch of my cock baby. Use me.”

Her moans grow louder, her body arching as I fill her completely, the bloodied Santa jacket clinging to her curves, and it only makes the scene more intoxicating. She leans forward, her breath hot against my ear. “You like it, don’t you?” she whispers, her voice teasing. “Seeing me like this... the blood of your victims all over me while I ride your big cock?”

My head falls back against the couch, a dark chuckle escaping me as I watch her. “You have no idea,” I groan, gripping her ass, squeezing it tight as I thrust up into her harder, my cock throbbing inside her. “You’re fucking mine, Alaska. You look fucking perfect like this.”

Her pussy squeezes me with my words, and I know she’s close. “Melt for me, snowflake. Fucking melt for Santa like the good fucking girl I know you are.”

“Oh fuck!” she cries out, her nails digging into my chest, tearing at my flesh like a cat in heat. My body aches for release as she takes me higher and higher, the world fading away around us. The only thing that matters is her, this moment, and the madness we’ve created together.

With one final roll of her hips, I can feel the tension snapping inside me, pleasure crashing over us at the same time like a tidal wave. “Ah, fuck,” I groan, lost in the bliss as I bust inside her. Her pussy clenches down around me, milking me for every fucking drop, our bodies entwined in a chaotic dance of desire.

She collapses against me, breathless and glowing, and I can’t help but chuckle, a mix of satisfaction and disbelief washing over me. “Fuck, snowflake. You’re incredible,” I murmur, brushing her icy hair back from her face, the weight of what we’ve done settling in.

“I know,” she replies with a smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief and satisfaction. “I just didn’t think anyone else would ever notice.”

I lean in, capturing her lips in a soft kiss, tasting the sweetness of our shared chaos. “Well I did, and I now never intend to let you go.”

T he fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls. I’ve won. I’ve taken everything I wanted, and no one’s left to stand in my way.

She’s still wearing the necklace I gave her. The crystal ornament I filled just for her. It catches the firelight, sparkling against her skin, and I feel a surge of possessiveness deep in my gut. I did that. She’s wearing me. She’s marked as mine, inside and out, and no one else will ever touch her again.

I watch her sleep, curled up in the bed like an angel fallen from the sky. Her blonde hair, soft and tousled, spreads out across the pillow, and I can’t resist reaching out to touch it. Just a little. Just to feel the silk of it between my fingers.

She stirs, murmuring in her sleep, and a smile tugs at my lips. She doesn’t know it yet, but we’re leaving this place. I’m taking her away from all of this, bringing her into my world. No more cabins, no more pretending. She’s going to see the truth—what I am, what we are together. I’ll make sure of it.

I grab my phone from the nightstand, quickly shooting off a text to Bjorn. I need to know where he and Giselle are. I haven’t seen them since we all parted ways in Fergus, but I know those two are up to some fun, and I want to take my little snowflake on an adventure. A little trial before the big show in the spring.

I glance at my phone as the screen lights up. Montreal , Bjorn’s text reads. Good. That’s exactly where we need to be. A grin spreads across my face as I look down at her, still nestled in the covers. My little snowflake, so peaceful. She has no idea what’s coming, but I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she realizes what I’ve done for us.

The storm outside has eased, a break in the vicious winds and swirling snow. It’s perfect timing. We can leave now before the storm returns, but we need to finish what we started. Mark’s dismembered remains lie on the living room floor. I snuck out during the storm and dragged them all inside before the snow buried them. I’ve packed her bag already—she just doesn’t know it yet. Everything we need is ready.

I slide out of bed, careful not to disturb her too much, and grab the lighter fluid from the kitchen. The place reeks of gasoline already, but that doesn’t bother me. In fact, I like it. It smells like the end of something—the end of him , and the beginning of us .

I set the fluid down by the door and walk back to her. My hand gently brushes against her cheek, and I lean in close, my lips just inches from her ear.

“Wake up, snowflake.”

She stirs again, her brows furrowing slightly as she struggles to wake, still lost in the haze of sleep. I tug the covers back, and her eyes blink open, dazed and unfocused.

“Johnny?” Her voice is groggy, laced with confusion.

“We need to go, baby,” I whisper, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “There’s been a break in the storm. It’s time.”

“Time for what?” She rubs her eyes, sitting up slowly, but I can see the spark of curiosity lighting in her. I love that look.

I pull back and reach for the duffel bag I packed for her. “I’ve got everything ready. You’re coming with me now, snowflake. We’re going to Montreal to meet some friends of mine. But first…” I smile down at her, waiting for her to catch up. “We need to burn the cabin down. With Mark inside.”

Her eyes widen, fully awake now. “What… Burn it down?” Her voice shakes, and her gaze darts to the door, as if the weight of what I’ve said is only just sinking in. “Johnny, we can’t…”

“We can, and we will,” I say, firm but soothing, like I’m coaxing her into the next step of our new life. “Mark’s dead. His remains… well, you’ve seen what I did. There’s no coming back from that. But we can’t leave anything behind. This place, him… it all burns. And then we’re free.”

I can see the conflict in her eyes, that flicker of fear. But behind it, there’s also acceptance. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but then she slowly nods. “Okay.”

I smile, grabbing the lighter fluid and handing her the matches. “That’s my girl.”

She follows me to the living room, where Mark’s mangled remains lie in a mess of torn limbs and blood-soaked carpet. The scent of gasoline fills the air. I soaked every inch of this cabin in it, making sure there’s no trace left behind.

“We’ll start here,” I tell her, watching as her trembling fingers clutch the box of matches. She hesitates, but then pulls out a matchstick, striking it against the box with a soft hiss . The tiny flame dances in her hand, casting a faint glow over her pale face.

“Do it,” I urge her, excitement building in my chest as she holds the match over the soaked couch. For a second, she freezes, but then she lets it drop.

The flame catches instantly, a bright burst of fire that spreads like hungry fingers over the fabric, licking at the furniture and crawling along the floorboards. The heat intensifies, and I step back, pulling her with me.

We watch as the fire devours the room, orange flames crackling, wood splintering under the pressure. The walls begin to blacken, smoke billowing up toward the ceiling. There’s something mesmerizing about watching it all burn—like watching a part of my past go up in smoke.

I turn to her, my little snowflake, standing beside me. Her eyes reflect the glow of the inferno, her lips parted slightly as she stares into the flames. There’s fear there, but also… something darker. A part of her is coming alive in this moment, and I’m here to guide her through it.

“Come on,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “We’ll watch the rest from outside.”

We step out into the cold, the snow crunching beneath our boots as we stand just a few feet away from the cabin. The sky is dark now, stars hidden behind thick clouds, but the fire blazes in the night, illuminating the snow around us in flickering, fiery hues.

The flames roar higher, consuming the roof, sending sparks up into the air like fireflies. I stand behind her, my arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close as we watch the cabin collapse in on itself. It’s a beautiful sight, the destruction of something rotten, clearing the way for something new.

She shivers in my arms, but she doesn’t pull away. Her head tilts back slightly, resting against my chest, her body finally relaxing into mine.

“You were right, you know. About me liking it, even when it burns,” she whispers.

I press my lips to her ear, a soft chuckle escaping. “I was right about a lot of things, snowflake. This is just the beginning.”

The cabin crackles and pops, the last of it giving way as the fire reduces it to a smoldering pile of ash. I kiss the top of her head, feeling the thrill of it all coursing through me.

“Let’s go,” I say, stepping back and grabbing her hand. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

She hesitates for a moment, glancing back at the burning wreckage one last time, but then she nods and lets me lead her into the forest. The fire lights up the night behind us as we disappear into the trees, the snow crunching underfoot. The cold air bites at my skin, but I don’t feel it. Not when I have her beside me.

We move deeper into the woods, leaving behind the wreckage of the past, headed toward whatever comes next.

Montreal, the shows, the chaos—we’ll face it all together. Me and my little snowflake.