Christmas Captive

“You like that?” I muttered in her ear.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.” She blushed again.

“You want more, Kitty?”

“I do. Please. Sir.”

“Remember you cannot come,” I reminded her. “Not under any circumstances. Do you understand that, Kitty?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes gravelly burning into mine. “I won’t.”

“Good girl.” I was going to make this hard for her, just to see how far I could push her. Once I knew how much she could take, I would erase her boundaries and set new ones in place. “Crawl between my legs.”

She didn’t hesitate, crawling to the spot I’d designated for her and waiting for further instructions, her hands demurely folded on her lap.

“Take my cock out,” I said.

“What?” She paled at the thought. “But I… You…”

“Good toys don’t argue,” I reminded her. “Take it out, now.”

Her shaky hands reached for me, undoing the zipper of my pants. Her fingers trembled as she touched the black silky fabric of my boxers, carefully reaching inside. Those pretty blue eyes widened when she felt how thick I was, and she pulled my cock out, a soft gasp leaving her full lips.

“Do you like it?” I muttered, and she looked up into my eyes, nodding wordlessly. “Why don’t you taste it, Kitty? Maybe I’ll even give you some cream to lick up.”

She licked her lips and leaned forward while I put my hands behind my head, groaning as I felt her mouth wrap around my tip for the very first time.

She wasn’t an experienced cock sucker—and I could tell. But I didn’t mind it one bit, for what she lacked in skill, she made up for with the sheer need to please me. Her tongue twirled little circles around my tip, licking the precum out of my slit and filling her mouth with the taste of me. She moaned when my cock leaked, and I relaxed, allowing her to have full control of my hardness.

Soon, she was working me even more eagerly. Long flicks of her tongue over my length and girth made me groan impatiently. When she moved down to my balls, I buried my fingers in her long, dark mane and held on for dear life. She was getting better and better with every second that passed, so very eager to please me she would’ve done anything just to get her prize out of my cock.

“Amicia,” I spoke up, and her eyes flitted over to mine, glazed over with wanting and need. “When I come, you won’t. And you will swallow everything. I don’t want you to waste a fucking drop. Is that understood?”

She nodded; her pupils dilated as she went to work my cock again. This time, I didn’t hold back. I tugged on her hair hard and I held her down on me until she was sputtering and choking. With a groan, I deposited a week’s worth of my cum into her throat, and pulled back, ropes of my juice dripping from her mouth onto her dress.

“Remember your promise,” I told her, and she did, licking up the cum from her fingertips before scooping up more from the front of her dress. She licked up every last bit, making me grin wide. “Such a good girl you are, Amicia. You’ve made me very happy.”

I put my cock back in my pants, my hand lingering over my pet’s locks, petting her with pleasure. “We’ll leave soon. You can get ready now. I want to show you off on my arm, Kitty, so make sure you look your absolute best.”

She picked herself up, her skin aglow with the need to please. “You won’t be disappointed, Sir.”Chapter 10

Amicia

If the looks I was getting at the Opera House were anything to go by, I looked better than I’d ever had.

Once I’d returned to my bedroom, I’d found a floor-length, mermaid-train red satin dress waiting for me, along with a pair of black heels with red soles. The look was completed by a black and red clutch, and jewelry that caught the light and sparkled beautifully. Grayson had attached the diamond necklace to my neck himself.

As we made our way to the Opera House, I wrapped the fur wrap I was wearing more tightly around my shoulders. I felt special when I was next to Grayson, when he looked at me as if he had a real treasure on his hands. I was a long way off from the poor orphan I used to be. In his company, I was a queen.

The thought of Margaret was heavy on my mind, reminding me with every step of the time I’d spent with the older woman.

I’d bounced from foster home to foster home when I was younger, until I finally came to stay with Margaret when I was seventeen. But if I thought the older woman would be kind and caring the way a grandmother would be, I was sorely mistaken.