Page 18 of Season of Gifts

It was time.

Rising from the table, he deepened his voice to the tones they couldn’t mistake.“You may have ten minutes, my dear ones.Finish your tasks, use the powder room if you need to, and present yourselves at the bedroom door.You will knock and wait for permission to enter.”

An electric arc passed between them.Alice and Jay glanced at each other as delight revealed itself in myriad ways across their faces—the wider flare of their eyes, the lifting brows, the twitching lips.Though the kitchen island hid their lower bodies, Jay would almost certainly be tapping out his excitement through his feet as Alice curled her toes.

Alice pressed her hands to the counter behind her, stretching herself to greater height, her gaze following him as he crossed the room.“Not the playroom?”

The question almost provoked a spontaneous smile; he caught himself just in time.They’d been playing in their new dedicated space often, with the flogging horse proving a particularly popular choice.But his plan tonight required a change of venue.

He pinned her with a predatory stare, feasting on his vision for the end of the evening.“If I’d meant the playroom, sweet girl, I would have said so.Ten minutes.Knock for entry.”

Shivering, she exhaled on a whisper.“Yes, sir.”

He clamped hard on the growling desire to take four strides, strip her from the waist down, and bend her over the counter while Jay watched.An auspicious beginning.

Departing at a briskly confident pace, he steadied his thoughts on the climb to the bedroom.He had run through the positioning earlier in the day, but gathering and placing his tools could not have been accomplished before his spouses had completed their post-work ablutions.Regardless of whether doing so would have given the game away, the heat of Jay’s shower could have settled into the wood of the exquisite walnut cheval mirror.Damage to such a gorgeous antique—an unexpected gift from the former homeowners, who had left it for them—would have been unconscionable.

He selected his pieces from the playroom first, lest his spouses gallop through their ten minutes and arrive early enough to peek.The hint of mystery in their anticipation added to their intoxication; it wouldn’t do to spoil that for them.But he reached the bedroom, carrying his prizes, with no sound of footsteps on the stairs.Excellent.A great deal remained to be done in seven minutes.

A gentle twist tightened the mirror in its stand, locking it upright.He carried it into place and checked the position, ensuring perfection, before distributing other items where they would be needed.

Dressing next, and staging clothing for Alice and Jay as well.They wouldn’t know the scenario when they entered, but improvisational skills served well.He would cue them enough to allow a simpleyes, andto carry them forward.And as he and Alice jointly relished a disheveled formalwear aesthetic, and Jay’s arousal relied little on fashion, he hung pieces suitable for the symphony on their valet stands.Yet another generous and thoughtful gift; the stands Emma had made available to them on their wedding day now served in their bedroom.

He donned deep navy suit pants, a different pair than he’d worn Monday for the tree decorating.These, and Jay’s matching pair, would coordinate beautifully with Alice’s outfit, the coloration blending—“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Two minutes remaining, and he tucked in his dress shirt, a simple lighter blue, and draped a darker necktie under the collar but left it undone.His watch and wedding band stayed.Dark socks, dress shoes, and a matching belt completed the look.

A firm knock came at the door.

“Wait,” he called.He’d no tasks left to complete, but thirty seconds ought to be enough to induce an adrenal response in his pets without converting their excitement into anxiety.He strode to the door with the metronome of seconds counting down in his head.His steps on the hardwood would certainly be audible.The smooth handle curved into his palm as he depressed the lever and ushered his spouses in with a sweeping arm.“You may enter.Hurry now; you’ve yet to dress, and we mustn’t be late for the symphony.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want us to be late!”Alice, clever girl, stepped into the game without pause.Perhaps she recalled the first scenario he’d crafted for her, their blanket picnic in the park.“But I haven’t picked out anything to wear.”

Taking her arm, he tipped his head at Jay to follow.Jay wore his glee across his face as a banner.Tonight would be a salve for the disappointments and distractions of the week behind, an opportunity for Henry’s spouses to slip into their submissive selves and give themselves over to their true natures, safe in his pleasure and control.“A problem already solved for you.”

As they rounded the corner into the dressing nook, Alice gasped, staring at the dress hanging from the stand and her wedding heels beneath it.“I get to wearthat?”

He hummed soft agreement, memorizing the sparkle in her eyes as he began unbuttoning her shirt.“You do if you can tell me your safeword and when you might employ it.”

“Pistachio,” she uttered, her eyes fixed on the outfit.“My safeword is pistachio.”

He’d done a fair job of displaying the dress, with the hanger facing front to show off the pencil-thin straps, the deep vee of the neckline, and the splendor of the lace flowers floating over a sheath lining.If they were truly going out, he would have insisted upon warmer underthings.Of course, if they were truly going out, he would have worn underwear himself.

The handkerchief-style points of the dress’s hemline would show even more detail when they swirled around her calves, when he lifted her—

“I would use it if I felt unsafe,” Alice solemnly intoned, as he dropped her shirt to the floor, “or if I had a muscle cramp, or if some other emergency meant I couldn’t fully participate.”

He ran his knuckles up the sides of her ribs, the vibration of her trembling an appetizer he devoured.“An excellent response.”Splaying his fingers, he unhooked her bra and caressed the bare canvas of her back.“Well done, Alice.”

The bra joined her shirt as he turned his gaze to Jay, though he slipped his fingers inside Alice’s waistband and teased as he unfastened her pants.“And my very good boy?Have you a safeword to use?”

“Always.”Jay nodded, his face momentarily serious.“I would never play without one, Master Henry.”

“Such lyrical answers gratify my ears,” he murmured.The round fullness of Alice’s ass filled his palms as he stepped in closer and pushed her pants and underwear toward the floor in a single motion.“Tell me yours, please, Jay.”

Shoulders squared, chin lifted, Jay spoke with confidence.“My safeword ispotholes, and I’ll say it if something doesn’t feel right to me, even if I’m not sure what the something is.”

That merited more than simple praise.With a crooked finger, he beckoned Jay to him.His husband’s delightful disregard for clothes in the house did, regrettably, create fewer mechanisms for dragging him in for a kiss.Jay’s shaggy hair, however, proved a marvelous handle.

---