Page 20 of A Stolen Christmas

I glanced over my shoulder to glare at him, but he was kneeling behind me, stark naked. My eyes lingered on his thick cock longer than they should have, and I nervously cleared my throat.

“Get your finger out of my—” I abruptly stopped because I couldn't bring myself to say it. “Is this a billionaire Christmas morning ritual? Sticking fingers where they don't belong?”

“Are you always this moody when you wake up?” he asked like a gaslighting bastard.

“Only when someone has a fucking finger stuck up my ass!” I screeched out, wondering how the fuck he had managed to tie me up without waking me up.

“No, Sirah, this is a fucking finger,” he said before he began to slide his finger in and out of my ass.

I grunted and slapped my face into the pillow as I tried to clench my ass shut, but it didn't deter him in the least when he continued to force his finger inside my ass. My eyes closed when he pulled my ass cheeks apart.

“I got you this. Our first Christmas present of the day,” he said, and I turned my face on the pillow.

He stuck something in front of my face. It was a small shiny black butt plug with flecks of gold through it, but at the end of it, the glass or crystal was cut into a solitaire shape to represent a gemstone. He pulled it away from my face, and I felt the cold, smooth glass run down between the crease of my ass.

“No, Saul,” I gasped out in a panic.

He paused and put a hand on my lower back.

“Have you never had anything up your ass?” he asked as casually as if he wanted to know how many sugars I took in my tea.

“No, have you had anything up yours?” I cried indignantly.

When he was silent, I glanced back at him.

“There was one time with two women,” he said with a shrug.

“Untie me right now,” I demanded angrily, thinking about his whoring ways enraged me.

“No, I don’t think I will,” he drawled. “I know I have a jaded past, but that ended when I met you.”

I scoffed but froze when he pulled his finger out of me, only to replace it with the broader butt plug. Before I could say anything, he began to push it against my ass until my hole began to give way.

“That’s it, Sirah, keep that sweet ass relaxed for me,” he crooned.

Like I had a choice.

I gasped as it began to slip inside, but before I could finish my gasp, the plug was inside of me. I clenched around it by accident, but it didn’t hurt. It just felt strange.

Okay, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

“Merry Christmas, Sirah,” Saul murmured before he pushed his fingers deep into my pussy and kissed my ass cheek. My eyes widened when I felt his fingers brush against the butt plug inside me. “My god, you look beautiful like this.”

It wasn’t his words that struck me, but the awe in his voice. When I glanced back, his eyes were glued to my ass. The entire situation was surreal, and a thought struck me about how he brought me here. There were a few mornings that I’d woken up with a heavy head, but I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol.

“Have you been drugging me?” I asked, trying to ignore his marauding fingers.

“I’d hardly call sleeping pills drugs,” he said while I wondered what planet he was on.

“They shut down part of your brain, you witless cretin. Of course, they are drugs,” I snapped at him.

He stared at me before he pulled his fingers out, and I gulped, wondering if I pushed him off his tiny ledge. He climbed off the bed, and I twisted my head in the opposite direction to keep an eye on the crazy fuck, but I could only see his naked ass.

How could someone so wealthy not afford therapy? There were two of them. Perhaps Saul was the defective one because Seth seemed normal and had been married for several years.

When he turned around, I saw he had a black rectangular-shaped instrument that he held by a handle. His devious smile made me glance at it again, and I realised what he was about to use it for.

“Don't you dare,” I screamed.

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