Page 59 of Daddy's Christmas Obsession
"You already are mine," I murmur, my lips brushing her ear. "You have been since the moment you walked into my study three years ago. But tonight, I'm going to make sure you feel it in every cell of your body."
My mouth trails down her neck, tasting the sweetness of her skin mixed with the jasmine from her bath. She arches against me, a soft moan escaping her lips that goes straight to my cock. I can feel her pulse hammering beneath my tongue, rapid and desperate.
"Such a responsive little thing," I murmur against her throat. "Do you have any idea how many times I've imagined this? How many nights I've stroked myself thinking about your taste, your sounds, the way you'd surrender to me?"
"Victor," she breathes, her nails digging into my shoulders through my shirt.
"That's right. Say my name." My hands slide down to cup her ass, lifting her effortlessly onto the marble vanity. The position spreads her legs, opening her to me, and I can already see the wetness glistening between her thighs. "Look at you. Already so wet for me, and I've barely touched you."
I drop to my knees between her spread legs, and her sharp intake of breath fills the bathroom. This close, I can smell her arousal mixing with the jasmine.
"What—" she starts, but the words dissolve into a gasp as I drag my tongue along her inner thigh, tasting salt and sweetness and pure temptation.
"I'm going to worship you properly," I growl against her skin. "I'm going to make you come on my tongue until you forget every other man who's ever touched you. Until the only name you remember is mine."
Her head falls back against the mirror with a soft thud as I trail kisses higher, deliberately avoiding where she needs me most. She's trembling now, her breath coming in short pantsthat make her breasts rise and fall in a rhythm that's driving me insane.
"Please," she whispers, and the desperate edge in her voice makes my cock throb painfully against the confines of my slacks.
"Please what, beautiful girl? Use your words."
"Please... please touch me. Taste me. I need—" Her words cut off in a cry as I finally give her what she's begging for, my tongue sliding through her wetness in one long, deliberate stroke.
Fuck. I could spend hours between her legs, exploring every fold, every sensitive spot that makes her gasp and writhe against my mouth.
"Oh God," she moans, her hands tangling in my hair as I focus on her clit, circling it with my tongue before sucking gently. "Victor, that's—oh fuck—"
Hearing such filthy words from her innocent mouth only spurs me on. I slide two fingers inside her tight heat while my mouth continues its assault on her clit, and she clenches around me so hard I nearly come in my pants like a teenager.
"So tight," I murmur against her wetness. "So perfect. You're going to feel incredible wrapped around my cock."
She's close now—I can feel it in the way her thighs tremble around my head, the way her breathing becomes erratic, the way she tugs at my hair with increasing desperation.
"Come for me," I command, my voice rough with need. "Come all over my tongue so I can taste your pleasure."
Her back arches off the mirror, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her.
The sight of her with her head thrown back, cheeks flushed, body trembling with release, is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. The way she clenches around my fingers, the way her wetness floods my mouth, the way she chants my name like a prayer.
"Victor, Victor, oh God, Victor—Daddy!"
I work her through every wave of her climax, drinking in her taste and her sounds until she finally goes limp against the mirror, chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.
"Beautiful," I murmur, pressing gentle kisses to her inner thighs as she comes down from her high. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."
When I look up at her, her eyes are glazed with satisfaction and something deeper—complete surrender. She's finally stopped fighting what she wants, stopped denying what we both know is inevitable.
I stand slowly, towering over her, and she can see the evidence of my arousal straining against my slacks. "I'm going to carry you to my bed now, and I'm going to spend the rest of the night showing you exactly how thoroughly you belong to me."
I lift her easily, carrying her to the bedroom where candlelight flickers against the walls.
As I lay her down on the sheets, her hair spreading like honey across the pillows, I feel a moment of profound satisfaction. Tomorrow, when Aaron arrives, this is the image that will greet him. Kyra in my bed, wearing my marks, completely and utterly mine.
But that's tomorrow's victory. Tonight belongs to us.
I begin unbuttoning my shirt, her eyes tracking every movement as I slowly reveal the tattoos covering my chest and arms. The religious imagery mixed with darker symbols—a lifetime of choices etched into my skin.
"Are you ready for me, beautiful girl?" I ask, my voice rough with barely contained need.
