Page 51 of 'Tis the season of Wicked Deeds

He twists harder.

A tear escapes as I rise to my toes.

“Do you now know what mean is, little vixen?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll obey.”

Groping and playing with my breasts, he darkly says, “Today, whenever we’re alone, you’re my little slave. You wear what I say, you eat what I feed you, you come when I allow, you crawl when I put my leash on you, and you never, ever, forget to obey me. Is that clear,slave?”

Goosebumps erupt on my skin and I tremble like a leaf.

The lack of choices is a heady potion flowing in my veins.

“Yes, King.” His nickname has never been more fitting.

Slapping my bruised breasts like I’m a plaything, he resumes his position and crosses his brawny arms.

There’s no room for shyness when I remove the last piece of clothing, until I’m bared for his devouring pupils. I’ve always been confident in my hourglass body, but I also haven’t been put on a display like this in the middle of the day. No moonlight or darkness of the room to hide behind.

I’ve never been with a man with as much sex appeal as Kingston.

A little self-consciousness tries to creep in, but one glance at his cock tenting his pants and the unwelcome thought slithers back into its corner.

I stay still for Kingston’s perusal, waiting for his next command.

He perfectly plays the role of my master.

Domineering.

Patient.

Deviant.

Our roleplay doesn’t overshadow the attraction that is ever-present with or without our games. It’s that connection that’s making me go insane with lust and enjoy every minute of our depravity.

The power imbalance crackles in the air, darkening the mood.

Him fully clothed, while I’m nude.

The quieter he remains, the faster my heart beats until I fear he can hear it. However, it’s his low murmur that carries to my ears.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

My sore nipples pebble, throbbing and begging for his soothing tongue.

Oxygen floods my lungs when he finally closes the distance and cups my nape. His free hand roams along my collarbone, moving lower between my heaving breasts to my flat belly and cupping my pussy in his large palm.

I moan, circling his wrist.

“I can’t wait to spank you right on your little clit.” Running his tongue between his teeth, he rasps, “Turn around.”

I do, eagerly.

His knuckles skate down my spine. “Scarlett red was made for your skin, little slave. Pink welts and black-and-blue bites will make it even more beautiful. You’ll let me paint you in my marks and thank me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Anything, King.”

My head is yanked back until it’s resting on his chest. I study him through half-lidded eyes. He’s staring down at me with longing and a craving so deep, it scares me. “Anythingis a dangerous thing to offer me, Twinkle. Don’t say it unless you’re ready for what it truly means.”

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