Blackmail For Christmas (Blushing Books 12 Days of Christmas 12) Page 4

  Charles did not allow her to keep the humble posture for long; soon he lifted her up into his lap, helping her sit on her hip as much as possible so that her poor bottom would not hurt too badly at the pressure. And he, in turn, had words of tender adoration for his meek little wife: "Sweet little girl... My Kate... Such a good girl, so brave..." He kept up the words of praise and love for a long time, holding her close against his chest, kissing the top of her head and stroking her tawny curls lovingly.

  When at last Kate had cried herself out, she looked up at him gravely, and though her face was very red and puffy, she had never looked lovelier in her husband's eyes. "Done now? It is all gone?" she pleaded in a whisper.

  "Nearly," Charles said, and he laughed at the way her eyes widened in alarm. He kissed her hard on the lips, then said, "I've still got to make love to you until you've no doubt at all where my desires are set, hmm?"

  She laughed too, then, and kissed him in return. "Do your worst, monster!"

  "You were a good girl and very brave," Charles said. "If you wish, you may ride me so your poor little rear won't be hurt anymore."

  "I'm too tired," Kate confessed. "Please... crush me and wrap me up inside you... I am only yours, Charles."

  That sweet declaration earned her another long, passionate kiss, and his fingers tangled in her curls, tugging sharply to make her gasp against his lips, while his tongue claimed her mouth as his kingdom. In another moment, he had Kate flat on her back, her face now flushed not merely from crying. Charles took a moment to look down at his beautiful wife and cover her face with kisses once more, and then he began kissing his way slowly, worshipfully, down her body. Down the graceful line of her throat, his lips worshiped her soft flesh. He dallied over her collarbones, his mouth exploring their delicate architecture until she was sighing with pleasure, the rest of her body growing as warm as her well-spanked bottom with desire.

  "My beautiful angel," Charles murmured, finally allowing himself to kiss and caress the soft swells of her lovely white breasts. "How on earth did I ever deserve you?"

  "You don't," Kate laughed, then squealed as he punished her impertinence with a sharp bite on one nipple.

  "Minx," he growled, and teased her breasts for a long time, moving from one to the other until Kate was wild with need, shifting restlessly under his attentions. She longed to have him inside her, yet she would not have traded the sweet torment he now offered her for any other pleasure. Her taut stomach trembled as he kissed his way down it, burying his nose in the little thatch of soft curls at the apex of her thighs.

  "Charles... oh, please..." she moaned.

  But he was in no hurry, and he laid tender, soothing kisses on the red splotches that marked her inner thighs. Kate was already wet for him, but Charles said, "That is not nearly wet enough for your lord and husband."

  She was about to reply when he gave a slow lick up the length of her slit, making her hips buck upwards as all the air left her lungs in a needy gasp. "Oh, please... Charles, please..."

  His tongue found the hard, swollen pearl of her desire, and he shifted between light, teasing licks and hard suckling until Kate was wild with need, her hands coming down to press at his head and try to get more pressure where she needed it so badly. "Hands above your head," he scolded, giving one thigh a little slap, and when Kate reluctantly obeyed, he rewarded her with two fingers in her tight, hot quim. Her hips jerked upwards, and she gasped and whimpered as he continued to tease her clitoris with his mouth, all the while giving slow, languid thrusts with his fingers.

  "Charles!" she wailed, then gave a loud, needy whine as he took his hand away and lifted his head to survey her, his eyes dark and glittering with desire.

  Soon, he filled the lack and the hunger his fingers had roused, his swollen cock sliding inside her in one smooth, forceful movement. Charles lowered his body so she was entirely covered and pinned by the weight of his lean muscle as he addressed himself to fucking his wife senseless. He was grunting and groaning with need, and now all his teasing finesse was gone as he took possession of her. Kate did not care—she did not want gentleness in the least. She spread her legs wider, pulling up her knees so she could dig her toes into the mattress and shove her hips upwards so that their bodies slammed together roughly. The rhythm was hot and fast, desperate nearly, and Kate was already very close to her pleasure. Yet, well taught that her pleasure was his to give, not hers to take, she held back, her body growing tenser and tenser from the circling, churning need inside her. "Please...." she gasped. "Oh, please..."

  He growled and thrust even harder inside her, as though he meant to break her apart with the force of his lovemaking. Yet the little pain the rough treatment caused Kate was nothing to the sheer, wonderful pleasure of it, of being claimed so thoroughly by her husband. "Charles... p-please..." she begged again, becoming fearful that she might disobey him unintentionally. "Please, please..."

  But Charles did not answer her, nor did he relieve the force of his thrusts at all. He was determined to exhaust his pretty wife and drive her mad with desire, and there was a kind of dark amusement in his eyes as he watched Kate's head toss on the pillow, her supple body strain upwards against him. His hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her against the mattress as he roughly took her again and again, testing every needy sound he could coax from her lips. But at last, when Kate was very close to tears of frustration, he kissed her lips hard, then said, "Let go, Kate..."

  He had scarcely finished speaking before Kate exploded. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut, and she could see stars as all the pounding pressure and desire within her came loose in a torrent of pleasure. Her body jerked and thrashed, and only his strength held her in place for the never-ceasing thrusts that pounded her roughly. She keened and whined and gasped, entirely unselfconscious in the luscious, hot abandon he had given her, tremors racking her flesh again and again as Charles gave a low shout, bit her shoulder sharply, and spilled himself inside her.

  Both were so exhausted that it was a few long moments before Charles could even summon the strength to roll off her, but after a time they were arranged comfortably enough, with Kate curled up against his shoulder, rubbing his chest softly with her fingertips and occasionally kissing his jaw. "Now it's over," he said tenderly at last.

  "Kind of..." Kate sounded rather unfocused, and she gave a big yawn. "The worst part will be tomorrow watching you open your handkerchiefs."

  He laughed and kissed her forehead. "I'm sure the guilt will make you beautifully attentive in bed for a long time," he teased. Then he caressed her hair. "You were very naughty, but Father Christmas didn't forget you, you know."

  "Didn't he? Oh, I wish he had," Kate sighed.

  Charles lifted his head and peered at the clock. "And, as it is after midnight, I suppose you may see it—if you can still walk."

  "I can't," she said positively. "I definitely can't."

  But Charles seemed determined that Kate should see her present, and he coaxed and bullied her until she was wrapped in her kimono, following him into the study on shaky legs. "Did Santa bring me an aspirin?" she groaned.

  "No, you weren't that good," Charles grinned, unlocking a drawer in his big desk. He pulled out a roll of blueprints and a little photograph. It was of a sweet, bucolic landscape, gently dotted with larches and hemlocks. The blueprints looked like a design for a house, and Kate looked at him questioningly.

  "The land is across the river," he said, sounding almost bashful. "Not in Manhattan. You won't mind, will you, Kate?"

  "Land? Mind?" she repeated, like a perplexed parrot. "What?" She looked again at the photograph and the prints. Slowly, realization dawned on her face, and she looked at him with pure delight.

  Charles beamed back at her, as happy as a schoolboy, and he began showing her all the amenities of the house he was to build for her. "It's a jewel box design—to keep my precious jewel in," he said with a tender kiss. "I was able to pay cash for the land. It will probably be another year before we can
live there, but..."

  "But nothing," Kate said rudely. "You'll have to build me a treehouse till it's done." And she kissed him again and again, overwhelmed at all he had done. She'd known Charles was working hard and taking almost more commissions than he could handle, but to do such a thing! A house!

  He gave her a hard swat on the backside that made Kate yelp, then pulled her onto his knee to hold close. "Our house, Kate. You like it?"

  Kate did not answer him in words—could not—but the ardent attentions of her lips and the soft caresses of her little hands made her opinion of the matter very clear indeed, and Charles leaned back into his chair with a soft sigh, holding her very close. And in Kate's heart all sorrow and worry were banished entirely as love took full possession. For yes, it would be their house, theirs together, for there was nothing of them now that was separate, and the peace of his love conquered all her fears.

  "Merry Christmas, darling," he whispered. And, against all odds, it was.

  THE END

  Bryony Kildare

  Bryony Kildare was voted “Most Likely to Become a Cult Leader” in high school, and we may all be grateful that she has turned her talents for fantasy towards delight rather than world domination. Today she is the author of vibrant erotic romances featuring discipline and power exchange in loving relationships. She lives in the American Southwest and is the humble servant of two extraordinarily demanding gray cats.

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