Page 23 of A Stolen Christmas

Sadly, there was no blood.

“And if I don't behave…?”

“I get to keep you at home, and we can revisit spanking your ass until it’s a lovely shade of red,” he said, dropping his hand from his nose.

I frowned and turned away from his dark, piercing stare. That wasn't much of a choice, but at least he had removed the butt plug from my ass. I would need to take that as a win.

∞∞∞

I stared at the clothes in his hands. They were navy-coloured pyjamas with Aberdeen Angus cows on them, but they wore a variation of Santa hats and red scarves, and some had colourful Christmas lights on them.

“You bought us matching pyjamas,” I said in shock and confusion.

“Yes, I thought it would be nice for our first Christmas together,” he said as I took the clothes from him.

Ryan never agreed to match pyjamas, but I wondered if it was a twin thing with Saul. He threw his on the bed and whipped his towel off. I honestly couldn't look away because he must need some kind of sling to support that dick. When he pulled a black pair of boxers on, I smothered a smile when he had to adjust himself after he put them on.

My pyjamas came with black lace panties but no bra. I quickly got dressed because I was hungry. He was dressed and watching me as I slipped on a pair of his oversized socks. I couldn't take him seriously with the cow pyjamas.

“His name is Hamish,” he murmured.

“Sorry?” I asked, confused.

“The bull’s name is Hamish,” he said as he eyed my bull pyjamas.

“Is there a backstory to Hamish?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, that's all there was on the website,” he said with a grin as he closed the gap between us. “I saw him and hoped you would like him.”

I closed my eyes as he kissed my cheek. That would have been sweet if he wasn't such a creepy stalking shithead.

∞∞∞

He kept his hand on my waist as if I would make a run for it. I didn't know where I was, and I didn't have my phone or purse with me. Although I could steal a car if I found his keys if it ever got to the police, who would they believe?

It wasn't a house he lived in. It looked like a mansion. The staircase was simple yet elaborate at the same time. It was one spiral staircase that had at least four levels. He carried me up two flights of stairs without dropping me. It was just as well that I hadn't been awake, or we would have ended up at the bottom.

“Are we still in London?”

“West London,” he said as we reached the ground floor.

My eyes were still glued to the large black door to freedom when he yanked me the opposite way. He opened another door, and I paused in awe and horror. He had a black Christmas tree with twinkling white lights and an equal ratio of silver and black baubles. I saw some silver snowflake decorations mixed in with the baubles when I looked closer. The curtains were drawn, and the main neon lighting words stood out against the wall. The green neon words blinked as if to mock me.

Merry Christmas, Sirah.

??

Saul tugged me into the lavish living room and closed the door before he strode across the room to open the curtains. The cream fireplace had two stockings on it, and on top of the fireplace was a small wire tree with lights and snowmen attached to it. I drew closer to reading the writing on the base.

The Winthorpes.

The silver branches held five snowmen. The two closest to the top had names on the bottom. Saul and Sirah and three smaller ones were blank. Even the stockings matched his dark Christmas decor. They were topped with cream fur, but the rest were knitted black and silver. Name tags were attached to the fur, and a little red and white Santa hat was on each capital letter of our names.

“You can sort out our presents while I make breakfast,” he said casually before he slapped my ass on the way out.

With a frown, I rubbed my ass and stared at the door for a few moments.

“What the fuck is this?” I whispered to myself before I turned to see the neon lights and the Christmas tree again.

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