Chapter 5 – Nicole #3
I didn’t lie there and take my punishment. I was deviously unrepentant. Even though he knelt on my back, I wriggled and bucked, protesting the only way I could.
Cristiano slid his hand between my legs, then pushed his touch under the cotton sleeper shorts. His predatory growl rumbled through the room.
“Cazzo, you’re so wet, angel.” His fingers brushed over my clit, and damn me, I lifted my hips to grant him better access. “Hot, and wet, and—” he pushed one finger inside me “—so fucking tight.”
“Let me go!” I gasped. “I’m no man’s present!”
“Aren’t you?” He sounded wickedly happy. “Look how easily I can unwrap you, angel.”
His fingers withdrew, and he tugged my tank top. The straps snapped against my skin with a delicious sting, then he pulled both top and bottoms down my body.
At this rate, I was going to need to buy more pajamas. Maybe some silky soft satin ones.
All thoughts of shopping fled when his hand cracked across my ass again. I stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath. Cristiano rubbed the smarting skin, massaging the flesh.
“You look so pretty, your skin red from my handprint.” He dipped his fingers back between my legs. “Should I fuck you now, angel?”
Because it was part of the fantasy, I didn’t give in, although my body screamed with need. “Hell, no!”
That only made the bastard laugh.
He knew. We both did.
I was only pretending that I didn’t like being captured by a stranger in the dark. And he didn’t have to fake anything. He was made for the role of monster.
Still, I squealed as he tugged my hips back, bringing me to my elbows and knees on the rug. Moving behind me, he shoved my knees apart. I let out a huff of protest. It switched to a breathless moan of pleasure when he shoved his fingers deep in my core—and curled them.
“Merry Christmas, angel,” he growled, pumping first two, then three digits inside me.
“That’s days away,” I panted.
Behind me, his laughter melded with the sounds of a zipper and tearing foil. The condom wrapper fluttered to the rug beside me. “Then it looks like I have time to indulge in my new favorite holiday tradition.”
His fingers slipped away. Cristiano leaned over me and held his palm in front of my face. The skin of his fingers glistened in the glow of the twinkling tree lights.
“Time to be a good girl, Nicky,” he growled. “Suck. Lick your pretty juice from my fingers.”
My pussy convulsed, and I was in danger of coming right then and there. Leaning forward, I swallowed his fingers. It was filthy. Erotic. And it made my core throb.
While my tongue stroked his thick fingers, tasting myself and not hating it, Cristiano lined the tip of his cock with my entrance. He thrust inside with a viciousness that caught me off guard.
I choked on his fingers. The sudden invasion stretched me to the point of pain. Holy Saint Nick, I knew he was big, but feeling him inside was temporarily overwhelming. He paused to let my body adjust.
“Such a good girl,” he groaned, digging his grip into my hips and fucking my mouth with his fingers. My mouth flooded with saliva, and I struggled to swallow it.
“Ready, angel?”
When I moaned, he tugged his fingers from my mouth and spanked me again. I cried out, diving forward.
But he caught me with both hands, planting firmly on my hips. He began to pump into me. “You might take me so good, angel, but you’re still on the naughty list tonight.”
I moaned in pleasure. My monster, my darkest fantasy, drove into me, thrusting hard. The rug burned against my forearms. The red bow bobbed in front of my face. The lights from the tree danced over us, and I barely hung onto my sanity as he fucked me without mercy under the tree.
His voice came out as a harsh rasp. “Tonight, I’m laying a claim on this sweet pussy. Next time, you’d better be on birth control, because I’m going to fill it.”
Yes! More…I needed more.
My thief was ruining me, in the best possible way, and there would never be anything wild, chaotic enough to sate me after this.
His hand slid under me, and he placed his fingers against my clit. With each thrust, I ground against him, sending pleasure exploding through me. It mirrored the bright, white lights dancing around us.
“It’s time to come, angel,” he groaned, thrusting deeper. “I can’t hold back anymore.”
He pinched my clit. I whimpered, folding into the swell of mindless delirium. Everything tightened; my muscles shook. The orgasm crashed into me, stealing reality.
I came hard. Harder than I’d ever come. His name was a cry on my lips, screaming it through the room.
Cristiano roared his release. My insides convulsed around his throbbing cock. Unable to hold myself up, I sagged to the rug. His hands steadied me, not letting me fall face forward. But he didn’t follow. His cock slipped away, and I moaned unhappily at the loss.
“That was beautiful,” he murmured, stroking my bare skin along my spine. “You are beautiful, angel.”
I preened, smiling and letting my eyes flutter closed as I nuzzled my cheek against the carpet. He said he was coming back. He claimed this as his new tradition. A sigh of contentment escaped my lungs.
Somewhere in the room, my thief moved around. I didn’t care what he was stealing. He could have anything he wanted, now that I’d taken the one thing I craved.
Plush, warm fabric skated over my body. I snuggled under the blanket, suddenly too tired to move. Plucking the end of the bow, Cristiano unbound my wrists.
I was completely unwrapped.
And I couldn’t wait to be his present the next time. Maybe I would be the one tying him up, showing him that he was just as much mine as I was his.
But while my mind came up with devious plots how to make that happen, something soft brushed against my cheek. His lips. That was his mouth, which meant….
I jerked upright, but the monster was already walking out the door, the Krampus mask clutched between his fingers.
I stared at the back of his head, memorizing what details I could see.
The broad shoulders, the tall frame. Jet black hair that melded with the shadows in the hall, before the darkness swallowed my thief in the night.
It has to be him. There was no other way to explain the feeling in my chest. I knew that man. He was the grown-up, hardened version of the boy who’d stolen my heart.
Leaning back onto my crooked elbow, I gazed toward the empty space.
The back door whispered open, then clicked softly closed.
What if fate brought us back together all these years later to show that we still had something?
More than a childhood friendship, more than raging, animal connection?
I sighed sleepily. Christmas miracles did happen. Who was I to question it?