‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds (A Holiday romance Book 1)
‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds: Chapter 16

“Do you know a good place to shop for Christmas gifts?”

Kingston steps inside and shuts the cabin’s front door before answering, “I do. Who are we shopping for?”

“Your grandparents, duh.”

A smile teases the corner of his lips. He backs me toward the stairs leading upstairs to the bedroom. I curl my hand around the ledge as he towers over me. “You don’t have to buy them gifts, Twinkle. They’d be happy you came.”

“They were kind enough to invite me,” I reply. “I can’t go empty-handed, King. It’s rude.” Wrapping my arms around his big shoulders, I ask, “So will you help me get them something they’ll love?”

“If you agree, it’ll be our date.”

A demand, not a question. His hand travels to twist into my curls, making my eyes go hooded as I accept. “Okay.”

“We need to leave soon before the market closes,” he casually informs me, purposely ignoring that he’s holding my hair like a leash.

I jolt out of my lust-drunk mind.

Peering down, I stare at my clothes, messy and covered in flour from baking all morning in the kitchen. I look like I badly need a second shower, meaning I need to hurry. I didn’t tell Kingston, but I’m planning on buying a gift for him as well. I’ll need to distract him while I do to keep it a surprise.

“I’m going to have a quick shower and change first,” I tell him in a low voice, afraid it’ll betray my hormones going haywire.

His lips purse as he studies my body, looking so stern and bossy. His gaze is so laser sharp, he could slice my clothes off into a puddle if it were possible.

I have to balance myself by gripping the handrail when he lets go. I’ve barely taken a backward step on the stairs when his brazen command stops me.

“Strip for me.”

“Here?” I squeak, my body coming alive.

“Don’t make me give you another punishment so soon.”

My ass paddled.

Lips kiss-swollen.

And pussy still aching from an earth-shattering orgasm.

Yet I’m still burning up at his cruel yet seductive threat.

“Show me every inch of you that I’m going to mark as mine.” He puts more force into his order while taking a small step back, so he has an unobstructed view of my impending striptease.

Considering I let him go down on me earlier, I shouldn’t be balking at stripping myself naked for him for the first time at a staircase of all places, where there is no fear of anyone walking in on us.

On the other hand, the intensity is multiple degrees hotter because there is no need to rush.

Kingston can take all the time he desires since we’re all alone.

And didn’t I promise him my full submission for the next seven days? I’m his to mold and do whatever he pleases.

Holding his gaze, which heats when I touch the hem of my sweater, I invitingly lift it over my tightening stomach. His sharp intake of air is unmistakable in the silence as my bare skin is revealed. A dark hickey sits proudly below my belly button, where he bit me in the throes of passion.

I keep going until the material is bunched underneath my full breasts, which swell under his praising eyes. Tugging the sweater off, they bounce, eliciting a deep and husky sound from him.

Once it’s off, I drop it to the floor.

Arching my back, I reach for the bra hook and toy with it.

“It’s unwise to make me wait when I’m constantly on a knife’s edge around you, darling.” His voice is impossibly deep and dangerous. “Lose the attitude and finish undressing. I don’t want a striptease; I want you naked.”

“You’re so mean,” I pout.

He’s on me in a flash, unhooking my bra like a pro and snatching it away. Twisting both my nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, he flicks his chin to my jeans. He’s completely unaffected by my pained whimper. “Take them off.”

My hard nubs are kept prisoner while I unbutton my denims and hastily push them over my hips. When I need to bend to get them fully off, I plead with him. “Please.”

He twists harder.

A tear escapes as I rise to my toes.

“Do you now know what mean is, little vixen?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll obey.”

Groping and playing with my breasts, he darkly says, “Today, whenever we’re alone, you’re my little slave. You wear what I say, you eat what I feed you, you come when I allow, you crawl when I put my leash on you, and you never, ever, forget to obey me. Is that clear, slave?”

Goosebumps erupt on my skin and I tremble like a leaf.

The lack of choices is a heady potion flowing in my veins.

“Yes, King.” His nickname has never been more fitting.

Slapping my bruised breasts like I’m a plaything, he resumes his position and crosses his brawny arms.

There’s no room for shyness when I remove the last piece of clothing, until I’m bared for his devouring pupils. I’ve always been confident in my hourglass body, but I also haven’t been put on a display like this in the middle of the day. No moonlight or darkness of the room to hide behind.

I’ve never been with a man with as much sex appeal as Kingston.

A little self-consciousness tries to creep in, but one glance at his cock tenting his pants and the unwelcome thought slithers back into its corner.

I stay still for Kingston’s perusal, waiting for his next command.

He perfectly plays the role of my master.

Domineering.

Patient.

Deviant.

Our roleplay doesn’t overshadow the attraction that is ever-present with or without our games. It’s that connection that’s making me go insane with lust and enjoy every minute of our depravity.

The power imbalance crackles in the air, darkening the mood.

Him fully clothed, while I’m nude.

The quieter he remains, the faster my heart beats until I fear he can hear it. However, it’s his low murmur that carries to my ears.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

My sore nipples pebble, throbbing and begging for his soothing tongue.

Oxygen floods my lungs when he finally closes the distance and cups my nape. His free hand roams along my collarbone, moving lower between my heaving breasts to my flat belly and cupping my pussy in his large palm.

I moan, circling his wrist.

“I can’t wait to spank you right on your little clit.” Running his tongue between his teeth, he rasps, “Turn around.”

I do, eagerly.

His knuckles skate down my spine. “Scarlett red was made for your skin, little slave. Pink welts and black-and-blue bites will make it even more beautiful. You’ll let me paint you in my marks and thank me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Anything, King.”

My head is yanked back until it’s resting on his chest. I study him through half-lidded eyes. He’s staring down at me with longing and a craving so deep, it scares me. “Anything is a dangerous thing to offer me, Twinkle. Don’t say it unless you’re ready for what it truly means.”

He doesn’t just want to own my body.

He wants to steal my heart.

The one thing I can’t give.

“Upstairs. Now.”

I ascend the first step ahead, only for him to tsk. Pressing flush against my naked back, his breath teases my ear as he orders in a primal voice, “No. You will climb the stairs on your hands and knees like the filthy little slave you are.”

I swallow, arousal flooding my pussy.

Regarding the looming staircase, I count the steps and pray they don’t hurt. I’m grateful that it’s not too step to make the climb awkward.

“Yes, King,” I whisper, dropping to my hands and knees.

This is worse and more degrading than crawling on the floor.

At least crawling on the floor can be done with seduction.

On an elevated surface, it is impossible.

Yet I try to be as graceful as possible, feeling bold when Kingston praises from behind. “So pretty. Crawl, little vixen.”

This is a mind game, for sure, meant to show me my place.

With a deep breath, I slowly move. The wooden floor is hard yet smooth on my skin, sending shivers vibrating up my spine—both from his attention and the coldness of the floor. My hair falls in a curtain around my burning face as I take two more steps.

“We don’t have all day,” he taunts.

The meaner he is to me, the wetter I’m becoming. By the time we reach upstairs, there will be a wet trail of my juices, betraying I’m reveling in my submission.

The thrilling thought makes me climb higher.

It’s not as odd as I expected it to be, though the position leaves my glistening slit exposed.

“Stop.”

I freeze, and a second later, feel his calloused finger dip between my folds. He’s perusing and adding to my humiliation.

“You’re a soaking mess,” he taunts cruelly. “Love being degraded like a little whore, do you, slave?”

Flipping me onto my back, he wrenches my thighs open, and his ravenous mouth laps at my entrance. His nails bite into my inner thighs as he eats my sensitive pussy all over again, even more animalistically this time.

I don’t even care about the harsh floor digging into my back.

He’s my entire universe.

“Kingston!”

Seconds from falling over the edge, he rips his lips away.

“No!”

“Keep crawling.” He rises to his full height, wiping his mouth and towering over my panting frame. “Or you’re going to make us late.”

I stare, debilitated, losing my mind.

“Please fuck me.” I sound nothing like the confident me. Shamelessly, I spread my legs wider, tempting him with my open pussy still buzzing from his tongue. “Please.”

His features harden, mocking. “You’ll get my cock when I think you’ve earned it. Not a moment sooner.”

Nudging my shin with his boot, he wordlessly orders me to get moving. Reading his steel expression, I realize there’s no swaying his tight-knit control.

Twisting back into position, I crawl up the staircase, fighting tears of frustration.

“Good little slave.”

I almost come on the spot, about to slump when his arm breaks my fall at lightning speed. Hauling me into his chest, he climbs the rest of the way while peppering soothing kisses on my neck and shoulder.

A glimpse of the obsessed man, not my master.

Shoving open my bedroom door, he throws me onto the king-sized bed.

“All fours.”

I’m thrilled that he’s finally going to fuck me, but instead, he has other scandalous ideas.

“Lay your face down and tilt your ass up,” he orders, on his way over to my closet where I’ve hung my clothes. “Spread those legs until I can see every inch of your wet pussy and tight asshole.”

Not daring to disobey him, I grab a pillow and expose myself for him. I’m brought to the knife’s edge—like him—when he returns after several long, tortuous minutes.

A dark red ribbed V-neck dress hangs off his arms, along with a pair of black stockings, which he lays on the chaise in the corner of the bedroom. It’s like he read my mind about what I wanted to wear tonight.

I forget about his instincts when he prowls straight for me like a dark panther. His gaze alight with lust at my obedience.

Caressing my buttocks with his large palm, he stands behind me. Moving my head sideways, I look over my shoulder at him to see him admiring my dripping cunt. I’m turned on beyond words, my arousal creating a damp spot on the sheets.

My clit throbs when I catch him licking his lips.

Almost like he’s become addicted to my taste.

“Touch me,” I murmur. It turns into a shout. “Oh God!”

Smack.

Smack.

Smack!

“I’ll need to gag you to stop you from speaking out of turn.”

I scratch and pull at the sheets when he stretches my ass cheeks obscenely wide and gives a delicious thrust. His erection causes friction against my folds. Holding me still, he dry humps me with wild abandon.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Shutting me up with a punishing spank, he asks, “Has anyone played with your ass, Twinkle?”

“Yes.” My cheeks burn.

“Fucked it?”

He already knows the answer. “No, King.”

“What about you? Have you ever played with your ass, Twinkle?” His thumb circles the rim. I tense, but he keeps massaging the sensitive spot there. “Put a toy or a finger inside?”

I hesitate, closing my eyes.

“Don’t be shy,” he coaxes.

My fingers twist in the sheets. I gasp when he pushes his thumb in slightly. “Yes… My fingers.”

“Plural?” he groans.

“Yes.”

His long pause unnerves me.

“Show me, little slave.”

My eyes fly open when his warm breath blows on my pussy. The stolen orgasm demands to be freed, and I don’t hesitate before reaching between my thighs. My lips part on a low moan when the pad of my fingers come in contact with my clit.

“Yes, good little girl,” he rasps when I use my wetness to lube my asshole. “Show me how you touched your virgin ass with thoughts of me.”

I push a finger in my empty pussy first and ask him in a filthy purr, “Please spit on my asshole, King.”

“Push another finger in your cunt first,” he growls. “I know it can take more. Fill it, stretch it, and fuck until I hear your pussy make a noise.”

Oh fuck! That crude mouth of his was the one thing missing from my fantasies.

Thrusting another finger in, I scissor myself.

“Stretch your hole. Let me see in.”

I try, but it burns. “It hurts.”

“My cock will hurt worse.” His tone is threatening and I believe it. “Hook another finger in your cunt and open for me, slave. I’m not putting my dick inside until I see that pretty pink slit widen.”

My orgasm teeters on the precipice.

“Don’t you dare come.”

Biting my lip, I reach back with my other arm and hook two fingers in my hole and pull. Gasping, I stretch myself open, submitting to his lewd desire.

“More.” Awe and darkness drip from his voice.

Tasting saltiness on my tongue, I push my own limits.

“Fuck, Twinkle.” I cry out when he shoves two of his fingers—thicker and longer than mine—inside my wet channel. I’ve never felt so full and stretched. He gives shallow thrusts, reveling in my torment. “Beautiful.”

More wetness floods and leaks from my pussy when he removes his knuckles with a wet pop. I moan loudly when he finally shows mercy and spits on my gaping hole, before repeating the action on my asshole.

Rubbing his saliva over the puckered skin, I succumb to the sensations I know all too well. The utter taboo and debauched feel of it.

Kingston has gone quiet behind me, but I can hear his harsh breathing.

His warm breath blowing on my clit.

He curses, the expletives rolling off his tongue like a waterfall, when I arch my hips and thrust my slim finger in to the knuckle. I push in and out until I form a rhythm. My pleasured moan rising in pitch.

Rolling and thrusting back, I plunge another finger and fuck my ass.

“Harder, you horny little fuck.”

“King.”

“You’re going to clean the mess you’re making of these sheets after you’ve come for me, slave,” he rasps. “So noisy. Soon you’ll take your Master’s fat cock up that ass.”

“Ahhh!” Sharp canines bite down on my flesh.

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Who’s my dirty little whore?”

“I am, Master,” I stammer, light dancing behind my eyes. “I’m your whore… Your slave, King.”

Bigger fingers thrust savagely and without warning into my pussy, banging me harder than I am fucking my asshole. The sensations become too much to bear. I crawl forward, wanting to get away yet closer at the same time.

“You fucking take it,” barks Kingston, pinching my clit.

The ache splinters my body and I scream, “King! I’m coming.”

“Come.”

I bury my fingers to the hilt and shout into the pillow as euphoria blinds me. I jerk unevenly as my body dances in the waves. My climax doesn’t let up, another on its heels.

Sharp.

Intense.

Powerful.

“I-I don’t,” I chant, confused when the pressure heightens. “Kingston, stop!”

He slams his fingers harder, hitting my G-spot mercilessly. His palm slaps against my pussy as my own fingers slip out. “Let it happen, darling.”

The wave crashes and my body can’t fight it.

I come again, liquid gushing from my cunt in a stream everywhere.

“Oh God! I can’t stop!”

My body slumps forward, only held up by Kingston’s fingers lodged deep inside me. His pace, slowly coming to a halt.

I’m close to fainting.

A warm and hard chest presses flush against my naked back, laying me sideways. A strong bicep curls around my breasts while legs intertwine with mine.

I will my heart to calm down.

“Mhmm,” I mumble, almost sleepily. “What have you done to me, Kingston? I’ve never come twice, one after another.”

“You came once, darling.” A smile can be heard in his voice, which melts into filthy pride. “You squirted after it.”

Wait… what?

“Th-that’s i-impossible.” I’m at a loss. “I’ve never…”

“That was before today,” he murmurs, turning me onto my back and looming over my stunned face. “Now, I can’t wait to make you do it again around my cock.”

“It’s messy.”

“The hottest mess ever and I fucking love it.”

“King,” I whisper, blushing.

He caresses my cheeks with a finger in a whispering touch. “Your shyness makes me hard, darling. So does the fact that I made you squirt.”

I bury my face against his pecs, pushing him down.

He laughs, tugging until I’m lying on his sexy-as-fuck body.

After several sweet minutes of lying on him, his heartbeat a lullaby, I lift my head. “Kingston?”

“Yeah, Twinkle?”

“I have an important question for you.”

His brows pinch in curiosity at my seriousness. “What?”

“When am I going to see you naked?”

He’s speechless a second before he bursts out laughing.

“You’re still clothed,” I complain with a pout. “You promised to show me your tattoos. Unlike you, I want a striptease.”

“I’ll do you one better.”

“What?”

“A striptease and a shower together.”