23. Yasmina’s Winter Solstice #2
His voice echoes through the maze, and I pick up speed.
My instincts overtake my rational thinking.
This is not a game between willing prey and a loving predator.
This is a pursuit I might not recover from.
Fear clogs my throat, my breath heavy in my lungs.
My mind blanks, and I give myself over to the familiar steps.
Left. Left. Right. Left again.
He’s chosen his starting point well. With him blocking the most direct route out of the maze, I have to go through the center and out the other side to escape.
The turns bleed into one another. I can’t hear anything over my harsh breathing, can’t tell if he’s closing in, can’t do anything but flee mindlessly, a fox before the hound.
I make it two steps into the center of the maze. Two momentous steps when I think I might be able to do this, to escape.? 2
Jafar catches me around the waist and hauls me to the ground.
I don’t miss the fact that I’ve landed on grass instead of the path, and I certainly don’t miss the fact that his hand cradles my head to ensure it doesn’t make contact.
Even knowing that, knowing that I’m with someone I trust implicitly, I still fight. “Let me go!”
“You know better.” He pins my flailing hands over my head and transfers them to one hand. “You’re mine to do with as I wish.”
I try to kick at him, but my dress hampers my movements. For a moment, I think it might hamper his intentions, too, but there’s a rip and the cold lashes me from the waist down. He just tore my fucking dress. I love this dress. I thrash harder. “You bastard!”
“Yes.” He drags off my panties, easily overpowering me, moving my body to his whim despite my determination not to make this easy for him.
And then his hand is there, palming my pussy, claiming me as his own.
“Your body always betrays you, baby girl. No matter how much you scream no, you’re fighting yourself not to fuck my fingers right now. ”
I hate that he’s right.
I love that he’s right.
I’m torn between spreading my legs for him and trying to kick him in the balls. I twist my hips, trying to dislodge him. It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t work.
Jafar covers me with his body, but he’s not lining up with where I need him. He presses me down to the cold ground, his hand between my legs, and pushes a single finger into me. “I’ll always give you what you need, baby girl. Even when you’re too stubborn to ask for it.”
“I don’t want this.” The lie is all part of the game, but my brain gets things all tangled up. I don’t want a vacation. I don’t want time to think, to feel the things weighing on me.
“Maybe not.” He fucks me slowly with that finger. Taunting me with my helplessness. Taunting me with my wanton desire. “But you need this.”
I’m still forming my denial when he moves. He flips me onto my stomach and rips the skirt of the dress the rest of the way off. I spare a thought to how pissed Tink will be when she finds out what happened to all her hard work, but then Jafar’s hauling me to my hands and knees.
He doesn’t give me time to brace, and when he shoves his cock deep, I nearly smash my face into the frozen grass. Only his rough hold on my shoulder, pinning me to his cock, saves me.
Then there’s no more space for words, for denial. There is only fucking, harsh and primal and rough enough that I’ll have bruises in the morning. I’ll relish them, just like I’ll relish the grass stains on my palms and knees.
Jafar fucks me like he wants to imprint himself on my very soul. Harsh, deep strokes, yanking me back onto his cock as he shoves forward. Each one drives a helpless sound from my throat. I’ve forgotten the game, forgotten that I’m supposed to be fighting this. I can only feel.
He shifts his grip, sliding his hand from my hip to my clit.
The shock of cold from his fingers makes me gasp.
“Now, my little slut.” He does something with his hips that changes the angle until he’s grinding against my G-spot as he circles my clit.
“Scream my name when you come so everyone knows it’s my cock you crave. ”
“Fuck you, Daddy,” I gasp, even as I know I’ll do exactly that. He makes me feel so dirty and so protected, all at the same time. I love it. I love him .
My body takes over, and I’m coming. I dig my fingers into the cold earth and scream Jafar’s name as my orgasm rolls through me with the strength of a tidal wave.
Through it all, he keeps fucking me, keeps drawing the waves higher and higher until my arms give out and it’s only his hold that keeps me off the ground.
I’m vaguely aware of Jafar lifting me into his arms and carrying me through the maze back to the courtyard with the gazebo.
I expect him to take me back to the house, but he moves into the gazebo itself.
Warmth licks my bare skin, and I lift my head enough to see that there’s a space heater and a pile of blankets. “What’s this?”
“Shh.” He lowers us to the floor and strips me out of the remains of my dress. Even with the space heater, it’s chilly, so I’m grateful when he wraps one of the blankets around my body and shifts me to straddle him.
I’m already reaching for the front of his pants and withdrawing his still-hard cock. Even with desire buzzing in my veins, I feel clearheaded for the first time in days. “Thank you.”
His hands settle on my hips as I sink onto his cock. “I’ll always give you what you need, baby girl.” His voice goes a little rough. “And if you wanted to watch me fuck Alaric, all you had to do is ask.”
“I want to watch you fuck Alaric, Daddy.” I rock my hips, taking him deeper, even as I spill this fantasy into the darkness between us. “I like that you let others play with me. A lot. But I want to watch him suck your cock, and then I want to watch you fuck his ass.”
“Mmm.” He nips my bottom lip. “You’ll sit there with your hand up your short little skirt and finger yourself while I do.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I wrap the blanket around his shoulders, too, encasing us in a cozy warmth.
In our own little world. I ride his cock in slow strokes, drawing out the dreamlike quality this night has taken.
This is the comedown from the chase, the slow ascension of pleasure, the feeling of him so close to me in every way that counts.
There are times when I love being naked while he’s clothed, but I suddenly need skin to skin.
I reach for his buttons with trembling fingers, but he anticipates me, brushing my hands away so he can do quick work of them. Jafar hooks an arm around my waist and rolls us. Some creative disrobing and then he’s as naked as I am. I wrap my legs around his hips and my arms around his back.
This. This right here is what I need. Different from before but no less valued for it.
I want this to last forever, but all too soon, my body takes the choice from me. I press my face to his shoulder as I come, clinging to him. This time, Jafar follows me over the edge.
He rolls slightly to the side and drags a blanket over us. I rest my head on his chest, holding him tightly as our hearts slow and the sweat cools on our bodies. Finally, I lift my head and frown at him. “A vacation? Really? ”
“Yes.”
I wait, but he doesn’t seem interested in offering more explanation. “But why?”
“As I said before, time and time again.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’ll always give you what you need. Even if you fight me every step of the way.”
“I like fighting you,” I respond automatically, but my mind is whirling. I didn’t realize how the walls were starting to feel like they’re closing in until he offers me a reprieve. “You’ve already got this planned out, haven’t you?”
“We fly out in the morning.”
I stare. “What would have happened if I made it to the maze entrance and ruined all your plans?”
His dark laugh has my body clenching despite several delicious orgasms. “You were never making it to the maze entrance, and we both know it.”
I suppose we do.
We lie like that for a long time, but Jafar finally urges me up.
I’m still dreading the naked trek back to the house when he pulls out a bag tucked back behind the space heater and proceeds to dress me in leggings, a thick knitted sweater, socks, and boots.
A hat and jacket finish the outfit. I look down at myself and then at him. “What is this?”
He pulls his own clothes back on quickly and shuts off the space heater. “It’s the winter solstice.”
“Yes,” I say slowly.
Jafar gives me a look. Even without much light, I can feel the censure in it. “Come now, Yasmina. You can’t think I’ve forgotten your tradition.”
I should have known. I should have known he’d notice and catalogue it away in that impressively twisty brain of his. Of course he realized even before I did that this was something I needed. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Jafar tucks my hand into the crook of his arm, and we walk together out of the maze. Instead of turning toward the house, we move to the gardens. It’s almost the opposite route of the one I always took with my father, but that feels good and right.
A new tradition, built on the old but different.
Perfect.