Page 8 of A New Year's Toy

His belt, dark blue sweater, and the navy long-sleeved T-shirt he has beneath it come off. I’m mesmerized anew at the defined planes of his stomach, the smattering of the hair covering it, leading below his jeans. He discards those as well, along with his boxer briefs.

What a glorious, proud, and erect man he is.

A predatory man.

“Legs together.”

The request is a command, one he gives me no time to fulfill. He yanks both my feet to the edge of the bed, tying me at the ankles.

Snap, the scissors go.

I’m slowly being transformed into Alistair’s gift, the way he ties the bow so neatly.

I want it. I want to be his however he takes me. Whether he’s sweet or torturous or both, I want it all.

With one hand he lifts my feet in the air, positioning them on his left shoulder. The other, he wraps around his length. I’m unable to watch the act since my legs hide the view from me, but by the angle of his right arm, the straining of his bicep, I know exactly what he’s doing.

He observes me, a lion gauging a lamb. “Before anything, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck your pussy. Just for a little.”

The blunt crown of his dick parts my folds. At this angle, given how closed my legs are, I’m tight, blocking his entrance. Alistair probes harder, the force of nature he is, and grunts when he fills me up to the hilt.

“Yes.” He pummels into me. “Take it, take it all.”

Despite the tearing feeling of my insides, the strain of the binds on my hands and feet, I do. I’m wet, and yet it doesn’t help the sting of his brutal invasion. My face twitches until I start accommodating his size in this position, one ravenous stroke after the other.

He curses under his breath when he pulls out. His hair is mussed, eyes devouring me whole.

“Greedy girl with a greedy cunt,” are his final words before he throws my legs to the side.

They hit the bed, the plush mattress absorbing my fall. I barely straighten myself when Alistair returns from the other side of the bed, carrying the wand like a beacon.

“I don’t need to explain to you what this is.” He lays it between my thighs, the head of it resting on my rapidly awakening clit. “I’ll turn it on, though you’re not to come of your own volition. Only I have the power to allow you to come.”

I nod, eager for him to start. I’d been afraid of sex before, of the emotional damage giving this part of me to someone might bring. Since I met Alistair, however, I don’t just run—I sprint toward it.

His skillful hands tie two extra bows around my legs. One at the bottom of the wand, one in the middle of it, locking the toy to my body so I can’t shake it off.

“That’ll work.” He admires his work and turns the switch on.

My hips jerk in the air, the impulse to get rid of the violent pulse of arousal choking me. I’m still turned on by having Alistair’s cock in me from how he fucked me a moment earlier, from having Alistair shatter me with his hungry, unfathomable look.

From watching my boyfriend watch me back, fisting his hard shaft in slow, languid strokes.

This wand, this fucking orgasm-commanding wand, intensifies these sensations not by a million—but by infinity.

“Alistair,” I croak out his name.

Thrones of desire eclipse my existence. Only Alistair remains my light, the dominator of my world. He who reigns my kingdom.

The owner and Daddy who can swipe the pain away.

Which is the opposite of what my sadist intends to do.

“Hush, now.” His palm rests on my thigh, forcing me down to the bed.

“I’m about to…”

“Hold on.”

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