Chapter 30 Kat
Chapter thirty
This is shaping up to be the best Christmas I can remember.
Father’s estate manager always hired out the house decorations when I was growing up.
Everything was always very “corporate Christmas” with neutral colors and crystals.
Very little green or red was allowed. This year, not only was I allowed a hand in our decorations but Henry actually let me spearhead the entire theme of the house.
I’ve also been able to spend more quality time helping Mrs. Potts bake all of her classic Christmas treats.
It’s been such a fun activity working with her to perfect recipes, then being able to gorge on the fruits of our labor.
It’s especially fun when Margot and Sloane come over to help us “taste test.” They’re both swiftly approaching their third trimester, and Potts and I are more than happy to indulge them.
When all the baking is finished, the four of us will stack a mound of treats on a plate, grab a pitcher of non-alcoholic eggnog, and cozy up by the fireplace, gossiping away.
The only negative is how pudgy I’m getting.
Not that Henry seems to mind. No, the softer I become, the more insatiable he is.
He calls it happy weight and insists it makes me that much more attractive to know he’s making me happy.
He hasn’t gotten soft, though. I don’t know when he finds the time to exercise since every spare moment he has is spent buried in my pussy. Not that I’m complaining.
I made the mistake once of mentioning how I’ve put on a few pounds to my very pregnant sisters-in-law, and they’ve never let me live it down, insisting that even if I gained twenty pounds, I would still be smaller than they’ve ever been.
When I tried defending myself, Sloane hit me with, “Well, does Henry seem to struggle at all to throw you around?” She’s got me there.
I’m in the middle of wrapping some last-minute presents when my phone buzzes with a text from the man himself.
Henry:
There will be a car there in five minutes to bring you to my office.
Wear a dress or skirt. No panties.
Make sure you’re ready when it arrives.
I need you.
This is the first day he’s back in his office since my father’s funeral, and I’m missing him as well.
I’ve enjoyed having him nearby in his study every day, knowing all I have to do is knock and he would put aside his task to tend to me.
Although I never had to. He never let too much time pass before coming to find me.
Sometimes just to make sure I was okay, and sometimes because he needed to be inside me.
I make haste, changing into a plaid skirt and matching sweater, along with some stockings and platform boots.
I barely have time to look in the mirror before the car pulls up.
Sighing, I throw my hair up in a clip and walk out as put-together as possible, considering the amount of time I was given.
One thing I've learned about my husband is how much he values punctuality.
As I’m escorted through the building up to his suite, I try my best to act the part of a confident CEO’s wife, but inside, I’m a nervous wreck.
I’ve never actually been to his office. I’ve heard some names thrown around and met a partner here and there, but I have no idea what my husband's daily work life really consists of.
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as I pass by, and I’m starting to regret not taking the extra time to make myself more presentable.
“Good morning, Linda!” I say as I reach his assistant's desk. She’s one of the only people I’ve met, although I wouldn’t say I enjoyed it.
She notices me, and if looks could kill…As if to prove my point, her expression is one of pure disgust while I stand there with a smile planted on my face, waiting for her to speak. Thankfully, Henry calls me into his office, saving me from the awkward exchange.
I don’t know what I expect from my husband's office, but it’s like any other space of his.
It’s minimalistic, with a hint of personality, whether that’s his own doing or an interior designer.
Clean without being sterile. His desk faces the door, and behind his desk are floor-to-ceiling windows, boasting an incredible view of the city below.
The frustration on his face fades almost immediately as I walk in, a huge grin taking its place. “Kitten! Come sit.”
I practically skip to him, just as excited to see him as he is me, and drop down hard on his lap.
I think this has actually been the longest we’ve gone without physical contact since the night we consummated our marriage.
My arms reach around his neck instinctively as his find my waist, squeezing me close before turning me so that my back rests against him.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he growls into my neck, before sucking and kissing from my ear to the spot he knows drives me wild. He smirks as chills erupt through my body. “Did you do what I said? Hmm? If I reach under this skirt, will I find my cunt bare for me?”
I nod, but he doesn’t notice. His attention is on my thigh, where his large hand slowly slides up past my skirt to test for himself. The moment his fingers find my naked, soaking wet pussy, he actually whines. I snap my eyes up to see him looking every bit as sad as he sounded.
Noticing my confusion, he chuckles. “Sorry, darling, I was hoping you wouldn’t have minded that particular bit. Not because I don’t love it when you walk around bare and waiting for me, but I really wanted a good reason to spank that bratty ass of yours.”
“Bratty? I’ll have you know, I’ve been a very good girl.” I pause to bite my lip, giving him my most seductive eyes. “But you know I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”
“Mmm, little girl, you better watch yourself or you’ll be raw for days.” He makes quick work of his belt and pants, his already weeping cock springing free from its restraint. “Now be a good girl and sit on Daddy’s cock.”
With that, he lifts me and guides me down slowly until his wide head is in, then thrusts up into me with brutal force.
I grab the desk in front of me, expecting him to continue driving into me, but he just sits there.
I wiggle my hips to let him know I’ve adjusted and would very much like for him to continue fucking me senseless, but all it does is make him laugh.
“Since you’re such a good girl and not a brat at all, how about you be good and sit on Daddy’s lap while he finishes his work?” I cross my arms over my chest and huff, acting every bit the brat I just denied being. “Oh, come now, Katarina. Daddy has some very important things to do today.”
To my extreme dismay, Henry does just what he said. He sits and works with me impaled on his cock. Eventually, I give up hoping for him to relieve the ache growing between my legs, and lay my head down on his desk, using my arms as a pillow.
I must drift off because before I know it, I’m being startled awake by the sound of Linda letting the door slam behind her as she walks into the office.
Sitting up straight, I wipe the drool from my mouth as discreetly as possible.
But it’s no use. She’s smug as she catches my vulnerability.
If she only knew you were sitting on her boss's cock, maybe she wouldn’t… Oh.
I tense, remembering that my husband is very much inside me while his assistant sits only a few feet across the desk from us.
Henry strokes my thigh in calming circles, sensing how uncomfortable I am.
We listen to Linda drone on and on about his upcoming schedule for the holidays, and just when I’ve relaxed a bit, I feel the smallest thrust.
I’m doing my best to hold myself together, but my heart rate is rapidly increasing as Henry’s shallow, languid strokes rub against my G-spot over and over.
Out of nowhere, he drives forcefully into me, masked by a change in his posture.
Luckily, he coughs over my squeak, and Linda is none the wiser, but he’s toeing the line now.
From his new position propped on his elbow against his desk, it’s easier to hide how deep he’s going. It just looks like he’s swiveling his chair as he listens to her agenda.
I squeeze his thigh in warning, as if he couldn’t already tell how affected I am by my pulse, but my gesture causes the opposite reaction I was looking for. Instead of stopping this madness, Henry snakes his fingers slowly up my leg until he reaches my throbbing clit.
My entire body spasms at his touch, and this time, Linda does notice. She halts her rambling and stares at me quizzically, waiting for an explanation I certainly can’t give her.
“Katarina? Are you cold, darling?” my lovely husband asks, pure victory upon his face.
I nod, looking between the two with my practiced smile.
“Linda, would you mind getting my wife a blanket from my closet before you continue?”
This time, his assistant puts on a fake grin as she follows my husband’s command, tossing it to us.
Henry wraps the large throw around us, the cover giving him more freedom for his debauchery.
At least I’m able to hide my mouth with the edge of the blanket, which is a blessing as Henry increases his speed with both his thrusts and around my clit.
Try as I might to keep myself from orgasming with my husband’s assistant a mere four feet away, my body betrays me. The coiling pressure in my core is undeniable as he works my pussy. I know he can feel how I’m fluttering around him, my telltale sign that I’m about to fall over the edge.
Henry leans down, his warm breath blowing against my sensitive neck, and God, I want his mouth on it. Instead, he closes in to whisper in my ear, “Is Daddy’s good girl going to come on his cock like this, or am I going to have to bend you over my desk and fuck you good and rough while she watches?”