Page 76 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
"I need you to come on my cock," he growls, one hand sliding between us to find my clit. "Need to feel you fall apart for me."
His fingers work me with expert precision while I ride him harder, chasing the climax that's building low in my belly. The combination of his touch and the way he fills me completely sends me spiraling toward the edge.
"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling my clit. "Come for me, sweetheart. Show me how good it feels to take what you want."
The orgasm hits me like lightning, my body clenching around him as pleasure tears through every nerve ending. I throw my head back and scream his name, not caring who might hear.
"Fuck, yes," he groans, his rhythm faltering as my climax triggers his own. "Perfect. So fucking perfect."
He empties himself inside me with a growl, his hands holding me tight against him as we both shake from the intensity.
When I finally collapse against his chest, both of us breathing hard, I can't help but smile at the satisfied exhaustion in his expression. The morning light streaming through the windows makes the Christmas tree lights look softer, more romantic—a perfect backdrop for what we've just shared.
"Merry Christmas, Daddy," I whisper against his ear.
"Christ, Kyra," he breathes, his arms tightening around me. "You're going to be the death of me."
I smile against his neck, savoring the way his heart pounds beneath my cheek. He has no idea how true that statementmight be—not death, exactly, but the death of who he was before me. The birth of who I'm going to make him become.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, I finally pull back to look at him. "Was that a sufficient gift?"
He laughs, low and rough. "More than sufficient. Though I think I'm going to need some time to recover before I can properly thank you."
"Later," I say, stretching to reach the tablet without leaving his lap. "Right now, I want to play with my present."
As I power on the device, Victor's hands settle on my hips, keeping me close while I explore the software he's loaded for me. The tablet feels substantial in my hands—expensive, powerful, loaded with programs that cost more than most people make in a year.
"I've never had a Christmas like this," he admits. "Never had someone who understood what I was trying to build."
"What we're trying to build," I correct, and he nods.
I curl up beside him and open the tablet, immediately pulling up the architectural software. "Show me how this works," I say, and watch his eyes light up as he leans over to guide me through the programs.
For the next hour, we design my research facility together while I remain curled against his side. Victor's hands occasionally wander as he explains different features of the software, making me laugh when he gets distracted by touching me instead of pointing out architectural elements.
The domestic intimacy of it should feel strange after everything that's happened, but instead it feels... right. Like we're a real couple celebrating our first Christmas together, planning our shared future while still basking in the afterglow of morning sex.
"Here," I say, pulling up a mapping program while Victor's chin rests on my shoulder. "What about this area? Close enoughto the city for staff and patients, but private enough for... discretion."
Victor studies the location I've highlighted. "Perfect. I actually know someone who owns property in that area. We could have the land acquired within a week."
I make notes in his new journal, my handwriting neat and precise. Every specification, every contact, every possibility gets documented. By the time we break for lunch, I have the framework for a world-class cardiac trauma center that could be operational within six months. We've moved to his study by then, properly dressed and with steaming mugs of coffee, but I can still feel the lingering satisfaction of this morning's gift exchange in the way Victor's eyes follow my every movement.
"You're incredible," Victor says, watching me cross-reference equipment suppliers with budget projections on the tablet. "Look at you, building an empire before we've even had Christmas dinner."
"I'm a fast learner," I reply, not looking up from the screen. "You taught me that taking what you want requires planning, preparation, and the will to execute."
"I did teach you that, didn't I?" There's something almost prideful in his voice, like a professor watching a star pupil exceed expectations.
If only he knew how thoroughly I'd absorbed that lesson.
"Victor," I say, turning to face him fully. "When you make those calls today, I want to be involved. Not just as the beneficiary, but as a partner. I want to understand how these arrangements work, who the key players are, how to maintain the relationships that will keep this running smoothly."
He studies my face for a long moment, and I let him see the determination there, the hunger for knowledge and power that matches his own.
"You want to learn the family business," he says finally.
"I want to learn our business," I correct. "All of it. Because if I'm going to be your queen, I need to understand the kingdom."
