‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds (A Holiday romance Book 1)
‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds: Chapter 14

No sooner are the words out of my mouth than his soft grip in my hair turns into an unbreakable band, and his lips clash with mine in pure, unadulterated hunger.

The air charges with electricity and unspoken desires.

His restraint explodes.

“You’re well and truly captured now, little vixen,” he growls lethally, with unbending ownership. Slanting my head as he wants, like I’m a doll made for him, his tongue invades my gasping lips and rolls with mine. He sucks and the action sends a zap straight to my clit. “Who’s going to own you, Twinkle?”

“You, Kingston.”

“Who’s going to command your delicate body like my custom-made whore?”

“You.”

“And you’re only allowed to answer with what?”

“Yes.” A vicious pull yanks my head backward, sending delicious pain down my spine.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, King,” I whimper, meeting his feral brown orbs. I was right. He’s a wolf parading in a charming sheep’s clothing. It took him a single day to lure me in.

Actually, no. I’ve been his imprisoned little prey since our kiss six months ago.

Night and day, he lived rent-free inside my head.

It was a matter of time on fate’s part until he physically owned me too.

“Now be a good girl and don’t make a sound.”

I tremble, gaze widening when he gets down on his knees. I glance worriedly at the open doorway of the kitchen. “What are you doing, King?”

“What does it look like?” he taunts, lifting my sweater to kiss my naked stomach. His large and tatted hands wrap entirely around my waist, his thumbs running soothing circles that do the opposite of calming me down. “I’m about to have my breakfast. You haven’t fed me and I’m starving, darling.”

Oh. My. God.

His deft fingers pop open my jeans and the sound of the zipper lowering crackles in the room. I’ve had ex-boyfriends go down on me before, but none had Kingston’s raw masculinity and sinful sex appeal. Neither looked so eager to taste my pussy.

Like it would be as much a pleasure for him as it’ll be for me.

It’s a heady feeling.

When my black thong is revealed to his eyes, they darken even more upon seeing the embarrassing wet spot. I should be shy but I’m not. This is what his proximity, his deep voice, and his drugging kisses do to me. I’m not lying or exaggerating when I say that a look alone from him is enough to make my panties damp.

“Naughty whore,” he taunts, running his nose against my slit visible through the thong. “Have you been this wet all morning while working around my staff?”

“Yes,” I answer, threading my fingers through his messy strands. “You’re to blame.”

A lascivious smile curves his lips. He tugs at my clothes but my knee-high boots don’t allow my jeans to go far. Hooking his hands around my thighs, he stretches me to my limits until there’s enough space for his lips to press against my dripping slit.

The first touch jolts me.

But it’s nothing compared to the sensation of his tongue licking a path up and down, soaking the material until it’s sticking to my pussy. My clit throbs being teased by his soft breath and edged by the promise of his stubble-covered mouth.

“You interrupted me before,” he rasps, sliding my thong to the side. Tearing his eyes from my bare mound, they lock on mine. “Don’t do it again. Unless you want to be punished with tears streaming down your face.”

“O-okay.”

“And, Twinkle…” A pause. “Not. A. fucking. Sound.”

One second, I’m sheathed; the next second, my flimsy thong is torn with a flick of his wrist.

I swallow my gasp.

Head bending, his tongue delves between my folds while his lips seal around my pussy in a kiss. Licking every corner, he cleans my juices, but more and more wetness keeps leaking. I’m so bloody turned on. He sucks on my slit, nipping with his teeth, sending vibrations up to my chest.

Blinding pleasure consumes me and I come real fucking close to disobeying him.

Even standing, I’m trapped beneath him.

I might be the first whore being served with a free orgasm.

His fingers travel upward and dig into my inner thighs harshly. An unintended yelp slips past my lips, disobeying his specific order.

“I-I’m sorry,” I cry out brokenly when he rips his mouth away, leaving me at the vicious precipice. However, the mistake is done and I have to pay the price.

His disappointment can be felt in the space between us when he stands.

I catch sight of his terrifying yet thrilling expression a second before he turns me around and bends me over the counter I was leaning against.

“I warned you, little vixen.”

“I’m sorry,” I say pathetically, truly acting like a whore. The rush it brings, letting the wanton woman inside me free, is divine. “Oww!”

A painful spank lands on my right ass cheek.

It fucking throbs and burns.

“Keep those legs spread,” he barks.

The moment I do, something hard and cold touches my burning skin. I’m too disoriented and delirious to guess what it is, but I have enough awareness to know it’s not his hand.

A whooshing noise splits the air before the same object lands on my other cheek.

“Ahh!”

It’s even more unforgiving than his hand, making me rise on my toes to move away. I forget I’m not supposed to be screaming, which is the reason I’m being taught a lesson in the first place. Twisting my head, my jaw drops when I catch Kingston holding a wooden spatula in his hand.

Oh Lord! He’s not giving me a playful spanking, he’s about to paddle my ass in punishment.

Caressing it over the back of my quivering thigh, he steps closer and tugs my head back with a fist in my hair. “Do you want me to stop or are you going to take your punishment like a good little girl?”

The scared part of me screams that I should run away from this madness.

However, the adventurous freak in me pleads to let him continue.

Isn’t this what I have secretly desired all my life?

I remind myself I have all the power and one word is all it would take for him to stop. Especially as my mind replays Kingston’s words… We both know it’s me serving you.

It emboldens me to submit.

“Punish me,” I whisper.

Peering straight into my eyes and showing his delight at my answer, he covers my mouth with the hand fisting my hair. My heart jumps to my throat and I scream against his palm the second the spatula connects with the fleshy part of my ass.

“Are you going to disobey me again?” he demands.

I shake my head.

Spank.

“My word is the law when I’m playing with your body for my pleasure. Isn’t that the rule?”

I nod, tears sliding down my cheeks.

Spank.

“Now will you be my quiet, little whore, and let me finish my meal?”

I whimper and nod again, while my ass is stinging like hell.

Spank.

I wait for him to pull his hand away from my mouth. Instead, it tightens as he paddles my ass and the top of my thighs without a single pause.

Spank.

Spank.

Spank!

Every inch of me rocks and trembles in Kingston’s hold. Over the roaring in my ears, I hear him throw the spatula away and rub my punished skin soothingly. There’s reverence in his touch, even as aftershocks run down my spine.

Pain slowly ebbs into erotic pleasure, and when I shift, arousal makes my inner thighs sticky. Understanding dawns on me.

I enjoyed it.

In spite of the hurt where, at one point, I feared he might tear my skin, I loved every minute of his harsh discipline. My body an instrument for him to play.

Flipping me over on my back, he resumes his position between my spread thighs and his mouth latches on to my clit. My painful lesson fresh on my mind, I bite down on my lips when he purposely grabs and squeezes my ass, loving the feel of my inflamed flesh—all his sadistic doing.

All I can focus on is his tongue flicking my nub in a perfect rhythm. Kingston’s balancing the sensations between soft and hard.

“Drip for me,” he orders. “Soak my face. Show me what a whore you are for me.”

I tug at his hair, riding his tongue.

One palm rests on my lower belly, while his free hand joins his mouth and circles my entrance. I can’t tear my heavy-lidded eyes away from him, watching his lips and fingers work me over like a voyeur.

Trapping my clit between his teeth, he sucks hard while thrusting two fingers inside me without warning.

I dare not make a sound and forget about the wide-open doors to the kitchen.

The threat of anybody walking in.

The staff I spent the whole morning working alongside. If they saw their boss going down on me, they will think I’m his dirty whore.

The little catch—I want them to.

Kingston’s wild eyes connect with mine and he fucks me hard and fast, making it difficult to hold back my moans. Another finger joins in, stretching my walls. I grab the edge of the counter when he curls the digits and pounds right against my G-spot.

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

I want to beg and plead, but I’m scared to disobey him and risk another paddling. Head dropping, I ride his hand, forcing myself to come fast. He catches on to my plan and stops moving his fingers.

His wet tongue swirls around my swollen clit achingly slow. Running the sharp edge of his teeth over the hood, drawing a shudder.

Desperate to come, I grip his hair to urge him to taste me faster. Instead, he captures my wrist and traps it to the side.

“I own your orgasms, Twinkle,” he growls, licking from my clit to my asshole without shame. I shudder when he rims my ass with his tongue. So nasty and taboo. “I’m still hungry. You will come when I’m full.”

No. I can’t wait till then.

“Please.”

“Total surrender,” he taunts. “It’s what you wanted. Give it to me.”

Summoning all my willpower, I relax against his hold. His pleased growl vibrates against my dripping pussy.

“Well, aren’t you a good whore?”

Thrust.

“Letting me feast on your cunt.”

Thrust.

“Drip, baby.”

Thrust.

Holding me immobile with a harsh grip around my thighs, he eats my pussy. Slow, fast, hard, and teasing. My flesh feels raw from his stubble, throbbing and aching under his wicked tongue.

Seconds pass.

Minutes pass.

Or it could be hours. I don’t know.

He keeps bringing me closer to the edge over and over, lapping and slurping on my arousal like he’s drinking honey. It feels like never-ending torture, but it’s him worshipping me.

Somewhere during the onslaught of erotic sensations, the rest of my power crumbles and I truly and completely submit. The moment my hold on his hair slackens and I stop meeting him thrust for thrust, he plunges two fingers inside me. Rapidly hitting against my G-spot, he utters one word that catapults me into another universe.

“Come.”

I shatter into a billion pieces, moaning, “King!”