Page 75 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
I'm just planning to use that power a little differently than he expects.
As Victor gets up to start making his calls, I stretch luxuriously in bed, my mind already racing with possibilities.
"Wait," I call out before he can leave the room. "It's Christmas morning. Don't you think your business associates might find it odd if you start calling about medical research funding before we've even had coffee?"
He pauses, considering this, then returns to bed with a predatory smile. "You're right. And we still have presents to exchange."
"Presents?" I sit up, genuinely surprised. "But the ring—"
"Was the proposal present," he says, pulling me against him. "Christmas requires something different."
Twenty minutes later, we're downstairs in matching silk robes—his black, mine deep red—sitting beside the Christmas tree with coffee and the pastries Patrick apparently arranged to have delivered. The domestic normalcy of it should feel strange aftereverything that's happened, but instead it feels... right. Like we're a real couple celebrating our first Christmas together.
"You first," Victor says, handing me a elegantly wrapped box that's much larger than the ring box from yesterday.
Inside, I find a top-of-the-line tablet loaded with medical research software, architectural design programs, and what looks like access to several private databases I definitely shouldn't have clearance for.
"Victor," I breathe, running my fingers over the sleek surface. "This is incredible."
"I thought you might want to start planning your research facility," he says with satisfaction. "The software will let you design everything from the ground up—surgical suites, equipment specifications, staff requirements. And the database access will let you see what cutting-edge technology is available, regardless of whether it's commercially approved yet."
He's given me the tools to plan my empire, and he doesn't even realize it.
"I'm sorry I don't have anything for you," I say, suddenly feeling awkward. "I didn't exactly have a chance to shop..."
"You gave me everything I wanted yesterday," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "Watching you choose me, choose this life, choose to become who you really are—that's the only gift I need."
"Actually," I murmur, my hand trailing down his chest, "I do have something for you."
His eyes darken as my fingers find the belt of his robe. The silk falls open easily, revealing him already half-hard just from my touch. I love how responsive he is to me, how quickly his body reacts to even the suggestion of what I might do.
"It's Christmas morning," I say, pushing him back against the couch cushions. "And I want to give you something that's just for you."
I settle between his legs, taking my time to appreciate the view. He's magnificent—thick and hard and all mine. The power of that knowledge thrills through me as I lean down and take him in my mouth without warning.
"Fuck, Kyra," he groans, his hands immediately fisting in my hair.
I hum around him, loving the way his hips jerk involuntarily. This is what control feels like—having a man like Victor completely at my mercy, reduced to nothing but sensation and need. I work him slowly, thoroughly, taking him deeper with each stroke until I can feel him hitting the back of my throat.
"God, your mouth," he pants, his grip tightening in my hair. "So perfect. Such a good girl, sucking Daddy's cock like you were made for it."
The praise sends heat shooting between my thighs, making me moan around him. I can feel how close he is, and can taste the salt on my tongue, but I'm not ready for this to end yet.
I pull off him with a wet pop, ignoring his sound of protest. "Not yet," I say, straddling his hips. "I want to ride you first. I want to watch your face when I take what I want."
His robe has fallen completely open, and I push mine off my shoulders until we're both naked in the morning light. The Christmas tree lights cast colored shadows across our skin as I position myself over him.
"Look at me," I command, echoing his words from that first night. "I want to see your face when I claim you."
I sink down onto him slowly, savoring every inch as he stretches me. He's so thick, so perfect, filling me completely as I take him to the hilt.
"Mine," I whisper, starting to move. "You're mine now, Victor. My king, my partner, my weapon."
I set a rhythm that drives us both crazy—slow and deep, then fast and desperate, keeping him on the edge without letting himfall over. His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise, but I control the pace, control the depth, control everything.
"Kyra," he gasps, his eyes locked on mine. "You're incredible. So fucking perfect."
"Tell me what you want," I demand, grinding against him. "Tell me what you need from your queen."
