Page 15 of Her Christmas Beast

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Page 15 of Her Christmas Beast

“Good girl.” And with that, he slides the toy into me. Turned off, it’s cold, hard, and a little uncomfortable. I squirm on his lap, trying to settle, but his heavy hand on my hip stops me. “Close your knees, Angel. You’ve got ten minutes.” He clicks the alarm on his phone and goes back to reading his spreadsheets. Or he pretends to anyway. He’s not exactly clicking anything. Meanwhile, I think I’ve turned into Pavlov’s dog, or an even needier equivalent, because my clit is throbbing in time with my pulse. Apparently, all it takes is feeling Billy’s warm hand near my pussy and I’m primed to cum. I shift again, hoping for just a bit more something to put me over the edge.

I’m stopped by his hand, making little soft circles on my lower back. I lean into his touch and my muscles relax around the toy. I turn my head to claim his kiss, but he pulls back. “Stop trying to distract me. You’ve still got seven minutes.”

I pout and sink back against him. Suddenly spasms overtake me as my pussy clamps down on the foreign object just sitting there doing nothing. When I can breathe again, Billy sighs with exasperation. When I peek back at him, there’s a tiny little smile teasing his lips, and his eyes are twinkling. But he says nothing.

When the timer finally dings, I’m practically ready to tackle him and make him take me with his cock already. Instead, he deftly withdraws the vibrator, which leaves my body with a noisy squelch, and hands it to me with the words, “Go wash up, baby. We’ll have a late supper and then bed.”

I groan but do as he ordered, wobbling down the hallway on unsteady legs. I need to dry myself out more than wash up, but I do both and throw in a load of wash while I’m at it. I’m going through my underwear so fast I’m seriously considering going without.

The next morning, you’d better believe I’m on time for my pre-breakfast orgasm. I’d never admit it but I’m starting to like this way of kicking off the day with a bang.

Billy rewards me for good behavior by playing with the backs of my knees during my session. I had no idea that was an erogenous zone, but combined with the pulsing vibrator he makes sure to hold steady with his other hand, it’s more than enough to send me over the edge not once but three times. He won’t give me advance credit for the ones due later in the day, though. Damn him. By the time I slide off his lap, I’m a boneless, sopping mess.

He goes in to start breakfast while I head to the bathroom to wash up. Again. Tom is due back tomorrow and I’m really nervous about having another person in the house. I mean…Billy doesn’t expect all this to happen out in the open with another man present, does he?

I ask him exactly that when I go into the kitchen, still steamy from my shower and dressed in fresh Christmas flannel. I’m taking the day off from regular clothes — apparently my schedule is nothing but sex, so I might as well be comfortable.

“And whose fault will it be if your orgasms overlap with the workday?”

“Mine,” I grumble with a cheeky grin.

“Exactly.” But he drags me close with a possessive arm before dropping a kiss on my lips. “You’ll spend your sessions in the studio with me.”

“All day?” I’m practically whining now.

He lifts his shoulders absentmindedly while struggling with the orange juice bottle. I silently take it from him, twist the lid and hand it back.

“You might be willing to risk getting caught, but I’m not open to anyone else seeing you like that. So yes.” He hands me a full glass of juice.

I mutter under my breath, but it’s all for show and he knows it.

I do spend the day with Billy in his studio, but neither of us keeps count of how many times he sends me over the edge. It was plenty but driven by inspiration rather than the clock, which I’m highly in favor of. He did some more sketching, but nothing that amounted to actual work, and I think that’s fine. From the sounds of things, he hasn’t taken any real time off in well, forever.

We go for another walk in the woods and with the sheer shock of surprise, I manage to wedge some snow down the back of his neck. His roar shakes birds from the trees, but I’m giggling so hard I can’t breathe by the time he tackles me into a snowdrift.I take the opportunity to kiss him proactively, which I think shocks him even more. But he doesn’t object.

* * *

It’s time to finally get my own back. So last night I set the alarm on my phone for 4:30 am. Might as well not go to bed as far as I’m concerned, if I’m getting up that early, but Billy is worth it. And I’m so full of anticipation that I practically leap out of bed with excitement when it goes off. The sheets next to me are still warm, so he must have only recently gotten up. I throw on the pj’s he won’t let me wear to bed and scurry down the hall in search of my prey.

I find him in the kitchen, staring meditatively at the coffeemaker. He’s not wearing a shirt, just some dark sleep pants and I might moan just a tiny bit a the sight of all his muscles. Billy glances up in surprise. “Angel? What are you doing out of bed?”

“Oh, this is my new schedule. I’ve made my own rules and consequences.”

“I’m still bigger than you,” he drawls.

“Oh, I know. That’s why I allowed a full thirty minutes to take you in my mouth.” He goes rigid with shock and I wait in delight for the explosion. But instead I get the eyes. The ones that scan me from head to toe and go back for an x-ray of my brain. I swear he’s part wolf, but he tells me that DNA test really wasn’t that specific.

His lips purse thoughtfully, then he turns back to the coffeemaker. “You want coffee?”

“Yes…” I always want coffee, but I also want a reaction — and his cock, if I’m being completely honest. In this moment, I feelmore like a teenage girl trying to bait her crush than a grown woman.

Billy grunts and pours two cups, then carries them over to the table. He sits down in one of the straight-backed kitchen chairs. I’m still standing forlornly in the middle of the room, completely confused as to whether he’s agreed to my invitation or not.

I’m indecisive, but Billy isn’t. He takes a neatly folded newspaper from the table and unfurls it, flipping to the financial section. I guess it’s now or never.

I pad over on my bare feet and extract the paper from his hands, then refold it. “You can have that later.”

Billy raises one eyebrow but doesn’t say a word. I take a few desperate gulps of coffee and slide down to my knees, bracing my hands on his thighs. I admit I’m a novice at this, but I’ve always been an excellent student. I remind myself not to rush and everything will be fine. I slide my hand inside the waistband of his pants.




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