Friday, December 11, 2015

Blog Hop - A Perfect Man for Christmas - part 6

A Perfect Man for Christmas
An erotic serial in 12 parts
Blog HOP

 6th Day of Christmas
by Elizabeth SaFleur

Michael dusted off his pants and stepped back to admire his work. Unless you looked carefully, you couldn’t tell the earth floor of his basement had ever been disturbed or that a grave had ever been dug. He’d let the four men stumble out of his house, still reeling from Trixie’s heroin doses. But, Trixie? He’d had enough of her tricks.
He set the shovel against the wall and climbed the stairs to the first floor. He needed a drink. He had time for a few, actually, before Trixie rose again. She hated when he did this – buried her to teach her a lesson. She’d claw her way out, a string of curses getting louder with each shovel full of dirt she moved. By the time she pulled herself out, he’d have cracked opened a bottle of her favorite champagne, Piper Heidsiec, as a peace offering. More, louder curses would follow her stomping up the rickety cellar steps.

Wipe your feet at the doorway,” he’d yell. “The maids don’t come for a few days.”
She’d curse more in her Old Norse language. But she always, always wiped her feet.
In the old days, after she consumed the full magnum—by herself—they might have a hate fuck. Just to seal the deal that he didn’t really mean to kill her. Lately he hadn’t felt like sinking himself into anyone but Wynter.
How was she doing? She better be finding that perfect man . . . A sound from the basement stopped his thoughts dead. Yep, he heard a distinct rustle underneath his floorboards. Trixie was getting close. He dunked her well-deserved champagne in the ice bucket and grabbed his keys. He didn’t feel like their usual reunion. Rather, he couldn’t shake the image of Wynter, and her round hip decorated with his sigil. My mark.
Wynter was likely in some bar luring some man to his sure death—or the greatest pleasure he might ever know. Michael angrily slammed his car door shut. The clock read close to midnight. She might be home by now. Nah, finding the perfect man takes time, and she had only six days left. Tick-tock, my feisty Wynter.
He pulled out of his drive, needing some time to think. He was only a mile from home when he had to slam on the brakes. His headlights illuminated a family of geese. What was with all the birds tonight? 

Everywhere he turned, something with feathers flapped at him.
He punched his horn. The stupid poultry creatures didn’t move from the road. Rather they craned their necks and gawked at him with beady eyes. One of the geese squatted lower. A white oval object rolled from underneath its butt. Laying eggs? In the middle of the f-ing road? He chuckled to himself. Six geese a layin’. Hmmm. It was a sign? Eggs were a sign of resurrection and of life. A dose of unwelcomed sentimentality washed over him.
Wynter, you must succeed,” he said, as if his words might be carried on the wind.
He drove a wide circle around the silly birds. Fifteen minutes later, he lurched into an empty parking space in front of Wynter’s place.
If she wasn’t home, it meant she was out doing her duty. Good.
If she was home, he’d take her again and again. Even better.

Wynter lurched herself to sitting. Someone had breached her room; Michael’s silhouetted form filled the doorway. She fell backwards into her pillows. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” she asked, staring the ceiling.

The question is what are you doing here? Find him so soon?”

She leaned up on her elbows. “I’ll have you know I found quite a few tonight. I’ve decided to raise my standards, however.”

He drew closer to her bed and snapped his fingers. The candle by her bed illuminated and sent light into his green eyes. “Oh?” His lazy tone irritated, almost as much as the growing arousal between her legs.

Yes, I might bring two this year.”

He chuckled lightly. “One will suffice, Wynter. You always were insatiable.”

That’s calling the kettle black, don’t you think? Why are you here anyway?” She was in no mood for more mystery. Her family’s Five Golden Rings tome may have cured her of ambiguities forever.

Why do you think?” The zip of his belt through his trouser loops went straight to her clit.


Excuse me, what did you say?” He leaned over her body, his breath warming her skin.

Damn him. “I said, no, let me undress you.” Why not sate her appetite on him? She couldn’t let the night be a complete bust.

He straightened. “Good girl.”

She dropped the sheet and revealed her nude form. When his emerald eyes widened, a flush of heat warmed her skin. She enjoyed affecting Michael as much as she enjoyed the arousal he arose in her.

Before she had a chance to shed him of his trousers, he’d pulled his shirt over his head. Eager boy, she whispered to herself.

As he lowered himself into her spread legs, a moan escaped her lips. Yes, this is what she wanted tonight. Someone who knew what he was doing. When he pitched deeply into her, she cried out from the sheer pleasure of him filling her.

So far, this is my favorite present of yours.” She clamped her inner muscles around his thick cock and felt his breath quicken over her neck.

Fuck, Wynter,” he said.

Yes, Michael. Exactly.” She drew a long gash with a talon down his back for good measure—in case he forgot her favors were not so easily won. Or was it because she wanted him to wear one of her marks, like she did his? Who cared?

For a few hours, she could forget everything and lose herself in the rhythm of his thrusts. Too bad all nights couldn’t be like this. Oh, and that, she thought as Michael reached a special spot deep inside her.

A spiral of pleasure ran down her spine, and she let a mind-wiping orgasm take her far, far away from duties and obligations and potentially beheading Christmas rituals. For now, what Michael called up from her body was all she required.

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