Page 16 of The Holiday

"Yes, Mistress…"

"Louder. I want them to hear how good I fuck you."

"Yes, ma’am!"

Etta was a beast. The kind of wild animal who took what she wanted—and she wanted Jamie. Specifically, she wanted her body, the validation her cries of release provided, and the way Jamie held onto her through her climax. When it came. Until then, Jamie was on the receiving end of a woman who would take nothing less than catching her, pinning her to this couch, and taking her from behind as the animal kingdom intended.

It made her feel small, vulnerable, and oh-so-good.

"Fuck me, Mistress!" Jamie gasped in reverie, her whole body shaking against the couch. “Please, fuck me more! Give it to me!"

She shrieked as Etta spanked her the moment those fingers hit Jamie where it mattered most. "You would like that, wouldn’t you, my delicate little flower?"

"Oh, God, yes!"

"Do you want to come? Do you want to lose yourself all over the hand of the only Mistress who can ever satisfy you?”

"Yes! Please!"

"And do you want me to make you mine?"

Jamie sucked in her breath, her body shaking on Etta’s. "Yes, Mistress! Make me yours!”

Etta grabbed both of Jamie’s hips and pulled her back, forcing her fingers as deep as they could go before going at Jamie as if it were the last chance in their mutual life.

Oh my God, I am a fucking sex toy right now.Those were Jamie’s favorite moments when wearing the collar. Love andromance existed outside of this blue band around her neck. Right now, her sole purpose was to serve her Mistress, and she best did that by existing and being as sexually available to her as possible. This meant letting Etta fuck her on a stranger’s couch to prove she was the best in the house.

That especially meantthat.

It also meant opening herself up to her, taking whatever she gave. Her thrusts, her passion, the satisfied moan she made when Jamie came.

"Etta!" She matched Etta’s thrusts, willing her to discover what was still left to plunder in such an eager body. That’s when Jamie felt the closest to her, physically. Even when turned away. Even when looking at the carpet instead of the eyes of her lover. "Oh, myGod!" Etta continued to penetrate her from behind, the sounds of their skin like a thunderous drum in Jamie’s head, all through her orgasm.

When Etta finally pulled out, Jamie let out a breathy moan and collapsed onto the couch, her knees wobbly as they carried her down to the floor. She didn't want to look too desperate, but Etta had a way of making her feel things, making her feel like there was nothing else for her but to come for her, and only her.

She sat there with her arms on her knees, her hands together and her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. Etta knelt next to her and ran a hand through her hair. When Jamie looked over at her, she saw that gorgeous smile. Etta gave her a peck on the lips before standing up again and helping Jamie up to her feet.

"Not too bad," she said, smug.

Jamie looked over her shoulder, her body aching for more. "Please fuck me again…" she whimpered. "I need it, ma’am."

"I’m sure you do." Etta pulled down Jamie’s skirt, however. "Later. For now, you can be content with that."

Except she wasn’t content. That was the problem!

Chapter 7

Natasha

Natasha had worked in worse environments. Really, being cooped up in a cozy study with a fireplace on a cold December evening wasfarfrom the worst environment. The only things making it awkward were the irate couples who all thought they had this place to themselves for a weekend… and the six and a half feet tall single woman manning the bar in the other corner.

She’s so tall!Natasha knew that Eve was one of the tallest women around, but she never paid attention to how commanding a woman with the last name of Warner could be.It’s because she’s not wearing three layers of clothing.As the fire continued to roar through the evening, more of Eve’s clothing fell off her body. First her black jacket, now draped across the back of the nearest loveseat. Then her royal purple vest, wherever it went. Now she stood with only a white blouseto grace her lean torso. Black slacks ran down the length of her supermodel legs.

Not that Natasha was staring. Natasha never stared. Especially not at Eve when she wasn’t looking back.

Charts, dumbass.Natasha turned back to work spread out before her. She had commandeered a small table in the corner of the study and made good use of the high-speed Wi-Fi on Ms. Coleman’s work tablet. The boss was currently engaged in a game of charades. And by “engaged,” Natasha meant Etta looked drolly on while the rest of the guests attempted good sportsmanship.

Natasha liked charades. That didn’t mean she was in a hurry to join in. Not only did she have a ton of work to make a dent in, but the types of things these rich people wanted to act out required a graduate degree to understand. Natasha may have been in the top five percentile of her university class, but it wasjusta Bachelor’s.Was good enough to get me this job.That’s what she told herself when she didn’t want to admit how much her looks played a part in getting hired.

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