Santa's Naughty Little Secret

Chapter 4

Blake Carter's Point Of View.

I unclipped the chain from Clara’s cuffs, wiped her mouth with my thumb, tilted her chin up and said, “Go. You did a good job."

She pressed a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh as a gratitude, and slipped out without a word. The door clicked shut behind her. The room fell into heavy silence, broken only by the low crackle of the dying fire and the thud of my own pulse.

I should have been sated but I was not even close. If anything, it was worse now because I had just proven one devastating truth that no one else would ever be enough from now onwards. Not tonight. Not until I had her.

My c**k was already stirring again, thickening against my thigh like it had not just emptied itself down a willing throat. I could not help but remember the image of her wide, shocked eyes through that crack in the door, watching me.

I crossed to the desk, dropped into the leather chair, and turn on the monitor as a dark, twisted thought over my mind.

The screen lit up with a grid of sixteen live feeds of every corner of the lodge, inside and out. I had installed them years ago for security and control, around her.

Tonight, I was f*****g grateful for my paranoia. I clicked the feed labeled GUEST-2, the room I had put Ava in. The feed bloomed to life in crystal clear 4K and there she was.

The bedside lamp painted her each and every bare inch of her skin in soft gold. She had kicked the covers off completely. The oversized T-shirt she slept in had ridden up to her waist, exposing the smooth, creamy skin and the tiniest scrap of pale-pink cotton panties.

Her thighs trembled, spread wide, one knee hooked over the pillow she had dragged between her legs The other foot was arched, toes were curled, calf muscle were flexed and her hand was between her thighs. Jesus f*****g christ.

Two fingers plunged deep, then dragged out dripping, and smearing her slick all over her swollen c**t before diving back in. She f****d herself hard, with desperate little strokes. Her p***y lips were puffy, flushed pink, clenching greedily around her fingers. Every breath came fast and shallow, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut.

I zoomed the camera.

The picture filled my screen, swollen, flushed p***y lips, glistening with how f*****g soaked she was, two fingers sliding down to push inside herself before dragging back up to rub her c**t again. She was dripping onto my sheets. My sheets.

Her other hand clawed at the sheets, then shot up to her mouth. She bit down on her own knuckles to muffle the sob that ripped out of her when her thumb started flicking her c**t in ruthless circles.

“Blake.” My name, my f*****g name was on her tongue while she f****d herself, and chasing an orgasm.

My c**k was hard, in my fist before I even realized I had pulled it out while on screen she arched, back bowing off the mattress, free hand fisting the sheets. Her thighs started to shake.

“Come for me, little dove” I growled at the empty room, while my voice was shredded. “Show me how filthy you are when you think no one’s watching.”

I wanted to be there, wanted my hand around her throat while she begged, wanted my mouth on those perfect t**s, wanted to replace her fingers with my tongue and lick her clean before I ruined her all over again.

She was close, and right on cue, her entire body seized. She came with a sharp, muffled cry, while stuffing her wrist against her mouth to keep from screaming. Her p***y clenched hard around void, again and again while a rush of wetness coated her fingers, darkened the sheets beneath her ass.

My orgasm hit and streaked over my fist, my stomach, and the edge of the desk. I kept stroking through it, while I watched her collapsed, legs splayed, chest heaving, looking thoroughly, perfectly f****d.

For a few moment, she stared at the ceiling, and then brought her glistening fingers to her mouth and licked them clean. One by one, while closing her eyes. I groaned, low and wrecked.

The more I watched her, the more I realised that Ava was temptation wrapped in a pretty disguise.

Eventually, she curled onto her side, knees were drawn up, T-shirt were still rucked high, panties askew, and that perfect ass was barely covered. Within minutes she was asleep, exhausted, innocent again, lips parted like she was dreaming of more while I sat there for a long time, c**k softening against my thigh, and staring at her.

I wiped myself clean with a towel from the drawer, tossed it aside, and stood. A plan formed, slow, vicious, deliberate and god, it was perfect.

Sweet, innocent Ava Hart and yet she looked at me like she wanted to sin, then ran like she did not trust herself not to.

I was going to start playing with her until she come to me with those big, scared, curious eyes, beg and then I would ruin her for any man who would not be me.

I would tie her down, I would mark her up from face to toe, and I would make her my trained, filthy, good girl, only mine, only for me, shaped exactly the way who comes the second I snap my fingers and thanks me for it with my c*m still leaking down her thighs.

Tomorrow, the real hunt began.

Sleep tight, little Ava. You have no idea what’s coming for you and by the time you realize what I had set in motion, you would already be too deep in it to step back.

You, me, your tears, and that pretty little mouth and cunt clenching around my c**k every single night from now onwards.