Page 24 of Amy's Santa

“Can I make my pet purr, do you think?”

“Ooh, oh. Yes, I think you can.”

Oh, I’m certain I can. The one thing about being an experienced Dom is that I know my way around a woman’s body. Soon I’m having to grip her hard to keep her balanced on her shaking legs. Her clit is swollen and ready, and her muscles start to tense.

“Can I come?”

“Yes.” My voice vibrates against her clit. Perhaps next time I’ll make her wait, but now I want to see her let go for the first time in months.

A small cry, and her body folds as aftershocks sweep through it. Standing, I let her balance herself against me as my fingers take over from my tongue, bringing her down gently.

At last, her head relaxes against me.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

When she looks at me with half-hooded eyes and a small smile curving her lips, I feel on top of the world. She trusted me enough to let me give her this.

My hardened body accidentally rubs against her, she notices. “Do you want me to do something for you?”

I notice she’s tensed. “No. I’ll be fine.” This isn’t tit for tat. This is a Dom pleasuring his sub. This is his sub giving him her power. This is her Dom helping her find her way back.

I pass her, her bra and watch her expertly park her boobs in it, then hold her panties while she rests one hand on my shoulder and delicately lifts first one foot then the other. I pull her sweater over her head, then help her into her jeans, leaving her to pull the tight denim up. The act of dressing her almost more intimate than watching her undress.

There’s a comfortable looking chair in the corner of the room, taking her hand I lead her to it. I sit first, then with a gesture, invite her to sit on my lap. When she does, she leans her head against my chest, right over my heart. Very gently, I wrap my arms around her, a hold so loose, she can easily break free. She snuggles into me.

“I want to be your Dom, Amy.”

“I thought you just were.” She grins.

“I mean, exclusively.” It’s a conviction that’s been growing on me for weeks and now seems to be the right time to tell her.

“You want me as a permanent sub?” She grimaces slightly. “I’m not ready to go back to that club. Or any club. Maybe I won’t ever be.”

“Not just at the club. We already live together, I just want us to build on that. Take the next step in our relationship.”

“Have sex.”

“No, not just sex, Amy. I want you as my submissive.”

“I’m not a slave. I’m not always a meek, mild submissive,” she warns.

I bark a laugh. “Hate to break it to you, Amy, but I’m not always an even-handed controlled Dom. Sometimes I leave damp towels on the floor of the bathroom.”

She sits up and turns to stare into my eyes, and her hands frame each side of my face. “I won’t lie, Xander. The girl who ends up with you will be the luckiest in the world. You’re smart, good-looking, kind. You’re supportive and caring.”

I frown. The girl who ends up with me? “Why can’t that girl be you, Amy?”

“Because I’m not a sub all the time, and I’m not looking for a full-time Dom. I want a man at my side who’s my partner.”

“Haven’t I been at your side these last three months?”

“From guilt.”

I brush her hair back from her face. “At first it was guilt, pet. But now it’s because I want to be here. I chose you over my family this Christmas as I couldn’t bear to be away from my sub.”

She breathes in air sharply. “Really?”

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