A Perfect Man for Christmas
An erotic serial in 12 parts
Blog HOP
11th Day of Christmas
by Riley Bancroft
Covering
her exposed breasts with one arm, Wynter clasped the other hand into
Michael’s and they burst out the back door of the strip club.
Relief washed over her as she followed him down the alleyway in a
sprint. Boots slapping the pavement behind them reminded her that
Morgan’s goons were hot on their heels and Wynter kept up with
Michael’s long-legged strides.
Oh, those legs, his thick muscled thighs and the way they clenched when he slammed…
“Ummph,”
she exhaled on a breath as they rounded the corner of the building
and she slammed into his back, coming to a halt.
A melodic tune filled the air among cheers and chants along the street. Wynter couldn’t believe her eyes. People lined each side of the sidewalk; some had beers in hand. Others sang along to the music. Irish step dancers, wearing custom dresses, pranced down the middle of the road. Behind them, a marching band played “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” rhythmically walking to the beat. No, not a traditional marching band, bag pipes…all piping away.
“You’ve
gotta be fucking kidding me,” Michael growled and tugged her
through the crowds. “Who has a parade this time of night?”
“Apparently
someone who appreciated eleven pipers piping,” she laughed in
sarcasm at the irony. Someone was playing a cruel joke on them.
Whether they incited it upon themselves or if Morgan truly
orchestrated this all … they all would soon find out.
Wynter’s family had come into debt with Michael because they wanted the five rings tome--the grimoire he’d stolen from them decades ago--back in their possession. In return, he asked for a piece of property of his own. One who could fulfill his every wicked desire whenever he felt the need to be sexually sated. One who he would mark with his sigil to be his for eternity. One who would provide the “perfect man” for him as a sacrifice every time the stars, moon, and planets aligned in sync with the solstice festival. Luckily or unluckily for her, she happened to be the item he wanted.
Men ogled and hollered at her while she and Michael pushed their way down the sidewalk. Wearing only bikini bottoms in December wasn’t the best fashion choice, but hey, who’s judging when one was about to climb up a stripper pole?
A few blocks down the street, his black Porsche sat parked next to a curb. An older lady stood next to it with a scowl on her face and she tapped her foot. Trixie yelled some Norse curses. “Next time make it two bottles of champagne!”
“I’ll
do you better than that, Trix. I owe you. For once, you did something
right.”
He released his grip from Wynter’s hand. “Hop in,” he commanded.
He released his grip from Wynter’s hand. “Hop in,” he commanded.
The immediate loss of his touch on her skin sent a lonely ache through her gut, but she jumped into the car still covering her breasts. “Trixie’s not just your secretary, is she?” The tension in the air between the two had been undeniable and definitely had a hint of angry desire mixed in. “How’d she know where we would be?”
He popped the car in drive. Wheels fishtailed as he spun away from the curb.
“She’s a Valkyrie. They have protective powers over the mercenary they have sworn to protect. Trixie safeguards her chosen in battle.”
Peering over her shoulder at the older woman growing smaller in the distance, she asked, “Aren’t they supposed to be immortal? She looks…well for her age.”
“They
age extremely slowly. Trix was actually quite the looker in her
heyday—quite the female warrior and strategist.” The tone of his
words and raised brows hinted at something possibly more.
She spun around to face him in her seat. Heat filled her chest, blooming outward, and set her face on fire. “I’m sure she was quite something to you; that’s for sure.”
A sinful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Jealous, my pet?”
“Me?
Jealous? Of course not. I mean, just the other night I had my lips
wrapped around another man’s cock while he got me off.” By no
means would she be put in her place. Michael’s the one who locked
her into this arrangement with him to begin with.
His knuckles blanched white around the wheel. The haughty expression he sported now replaced with a sneer. “I think it’s time we washed that dirty mouth out.” He veered the car off to the side of road, slammed it into park, and unzipped his pants.
Long, thick, and hard, his cock popped out of his jeans as if breaking out of jail.
“Your mouth. Now.”
When she met his gaze, those brilliant emerald eyes bore into her. Not only into the depths of her soul, but further. Her pussy throbbed with his command. This man undid her every single time. The closer she got to him, the more time they spent, the more she craved him. She couldn’t get enough.
Her chest rose with each deep inhalation as she licked her lips. By damn, she wanted him to hunger for her like she was starting to with him. “No.” Wynter dropped her arm, revealing her breasts, and moved to place her back against the door. Pressing her shoulders back, the cool air in the car teased her already sensitive nipples. She propped her feet up on the middle console to spread her thighs.
“Your
mouth. Now.”
Sinful desire filled his eyes and a growl vibrated from his chest. He placed his thumb over her clitoris, drawing small circles. “Do not forget who you belong to.
Nor the debt you must pay for your family. Shall I make you orgasm like this? Bereft of my cock filling you?”
She tried not to move her hips in rhythm of his touch, but found it difficult as her sex clenched in response to the tender strokes.
Damn, he had a way of driving her body to the need of passion.
He increased the pressure and thumbed her harder. His eyes focused in on her. “Answer,” he bit out.
You will not moan. You will not…she couldn’t stop the sound from leaving her throat. Oh the tortuous ways he pleased her. Body thrumming to life, the exquisite tickle spread throughout her aching pussy, and she couldn’t deny her response to him. “No.” She needed to have him inside and hitting the soft spot that always sent her over the edge.
“Come
and mount me, Wynter.” He moved her bikini bottoms to the side
uncovering her pussy. “I can see you’re ready for me.”
How his brusque words made her lust for him more, she had no
idea. All
she knew or cared about was the fever escalating in her body to have
him. She moved in her seat and climbed on top of his, straddling his
waist.
“I’m
always ready for you.” The tip of his shaft barely breached her
nether lips. She rocked her hips back and forth to, coating him with
her juices.
Michael gripped her hips and slammed her down on his thick cock. “That’s right. You will always crave me.” He nipped her bottom lip before sliding his tongue into her mouth.
Using his shoulders as leverage, she pulled up and then came down hard on him—riding him. Tingles spread throughout her womb with each penetration.
“Fuck,
Wynter. I want you to want me without the debt.” He clamped a hand
on the nape of her neck and branded her with a punishing kiss. The
husky way he said her name, the way he claimed her.
Her thigh muscles quivered as the energy pulsated, building up, and overflowing.
Her inner walls clenched and released. Pleasure overflowed as warm bursts jetted inside and she milked Michael’s cock into sweet oblivion with her.
Foreheads together, their breaths mingled in quick bursts.
“Goddess. That was amazing,” she whispered against his lips.
Michael tensed beneath her.
She could have sworn he froze up like a block of ice.
“Don’t
ever say that Morgan’s name again.”
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