Chapter Three
Belinda
I hear Max return to the bedroom and dutifully keep my eyes closed, partially from the threat of another spanking, but mostly out of pure titillation and desire.
This man who’s old enough to be my father may yet betray my kindness and hospitality, but until then, it seems he’s determined to ravage me.
And despite my trepidation, I’m surprisingly all for it.
I’ve never had a one-night stand or hooked up with random men before, but what red-blooded woman wouldn’t want to be ravaged over the holidays by a sexy stranger?
“No peeking, princess,” he warns as I feel him climb onto the bed. Taking my wrists he secures them above my head.
My heart races with anticipation and a lump forms in my throat. Oh, my God! I’ve never really had the chance to explore bondage before, and the presented opportunity only gets me wetter and sends a thrill of excitement through my veins.
My Dominant visitor moves to the bottom of the bed and presents me with a new command. “On your knees,” he says.
Having already had my ass eaten out and my clit played with, I feel no shame as I roll over, my eyes still closed, and get back up onto my knees—bearing my weight forward on my forearms as I present my ass high in the air—waiting with bated breath on tenterhooks for what happens next.
“Good girl, Belle,” Max praises as he takes one of my ankles and secures it to the bedpost with what can only be tinsel. “You’re doing so well.”
The glittery, scratchy, plastic fibers tickle me, and I giggle to myself, my hair spilling off my back in a waterfall to whisper around my shoulders.
“So, you like a tickle, hm?” he says, his deep, husky voice sending thrills over my skin as he secures my remaining ankle. “How about I tickle that sweet, juicy pussy of yours as I fuck the shit out of your tight ass?”
The mere thought has me as aroused as it has me riddled with anxiety, but desire wins out over fear any day of the week and I sway my ass for him—beckoning—getting comfortable resting on my arms. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, Max,” I answer with more conviction than I imagined I could muster.
Max growls and spanks my ass again. My skin glows hot with the heat of his strike as he rises from the bed to strip off behind me. “I love it when you beg, princess.”
The mattress shifts under me and without warning I feel something solid slap my face, something other than a hand .
.. shocking the hell out of me. My eyes fly open, and a gasp falls from my lips as I’m confronted with a beautifully cut and erect cock.
Max is on his knees before me, his gorgeous cock pointed directly at me, threatening yet promising.
“Suck it like a good girl,” he coaxes. “Make it nice and wet so I can fuck that perfect ass of yours.” He grabs me by a fistful of my hair and tugs my head back, gazing down into my eyes with a pussy-quivering intensity. “I said,” he emphasizes, “suck it.”
With no other option, I obey. The feeling of being pleasured and robbed of my sense of control has me panting with wanting. Opening my mouth, I stretch out my tongue to taste him as he leans closer.
“Give it a nice clean, princess. It’s been a long day.”
A shiver ripples through me as my taste buds flare to life.
He tastes and smells distinctly like a man, not freshly showered, but not dirty either.
His words fuel something deep in my soul, something I never even knew existed, and I swirl my tongue around his head, flicking the tip of my tongue into his slit before wrapping my lips around his substantial girth.
More than anything, I want to please him and feel his delicious words of praise pour over me like sweet, oozy honey.
Max groans, his hand still tangled up in my hair. “God, yes. Good girl.”
Smiling around his soft, hard flesh, I move my head ever so slightly, catching sight of the strangest thing .
.. the base of his cock and the underneath of his firm sac are lit up like a damn Christmas tree.
What the fuck? Rainbow lights shine up at them and with a mouth full of cock I glance down to discover he’s used the fucking fairy lights from the Christmas tree to bind my wrists!
It’s adorable, pretty, and sexy as sin. I’m a sad little sucker for festive, holiday pretties and being tangled up in sparkling lights?
Who knew I needed to check that off my bucket list? But now I certainly can!
With renewed vigor and enthusiasm, I take him deeper, past the limits of my mouth and to the back of my throat.
He hits my gag reflex without remorse and my throat spasms around his cock, my muscles embracing him in sporadic, jerking waves of intense pleasure.
As I maintain the tight seal of my lips around his girth, I bob my head forward, fucking him with my mouth.
All the while I revel in Max’s firm grip on my hair and the tingling bolts of lightning that race across my scalp as he scrunches his fingers with unbridled desire.
Half a dozen times Max pushes my limits, fucking himself all the way down my throat, until my lips are firmly pressed against his base and his sac rests against my chin.
He holds me there, each time, on the precipice of gagging and choking.
“Yes,” he almost hisses, dragging out the s as if lost to his ecstasy. “Just like that, baby girl.”
And each time he allows me to come up for air it’s like a precious mercy—a gift—and I go harder and harder, until he withdraws his cock and slaps me in the face with it again.
With spittle dribbling from the corners of my mouth, I gasp, catching my breath, my gaze fixed firmly on Max’s ruggedly sexy, bearded face.
He’s so roguishly handsome. A part of me still can’t believe this gorgeous man is even willing to touch me, the girl who was always ridiculed for being the big girl, the chubby friend, the fat one.
“You did good, princess, but if you keep going like this, I’m going to come—and I’m not ready for the party to be over just yet.
” He steps from the bed, winks, and offers me a smile that would make me weak at the knees if I wasn’t already on all fours.
“Stay there,” he says. “You deserve a little something for your efforts.”
My brow creases as I hear Max’s footsteps retreat to the kitchen and I wonder what the hell he’s thinking. Deserve something? Is he going to punish me?
“Here you go, princess,” he says, popping the sparkling wine on the bedside table, before digging out a scoop of ice cream from my pint. “Open up, baby.”
Licking my lips and beyond delighted, I obey.
“Good girl,” he says as I use my lips to pull the ice cream cleanly from the spoon.
I moan. I don’t know how, but it tastes that much better when I’m tangled up, snowed in, and being spoon-fed by a gorgeous naked stranger.
“And how about a little sparkle to wash that sweet treat down?” he suggests and presses the open wine bottle to my lips. “That’s it.” He pulls my hair, forcing me to crane my neck back and open my mouth wide, then pours the wine in.
I swallow as best I can, but some inevitably spills from my lips. The cold, bubbly alcohol runs down my neck and trickles over my breasts to wet the clean sheets beneath me, mimicking the dribbling puddle of wetness between my thighs.