by Qwillia Rain
He hadn’t disappointed her this morning. Even after making her climax five times, and coming himself, his blue eyes had shimmered with heat when she’d escorted Bryce Halsey into Dayton’s office.
Smiling at how much she approved of this more sexual person she was becoming, Elf dried her hands, gave a nod to Jodi’s voice as it encouraged her to “go for it!” and left the bathroom.
Her fourth gift was propped on the keyboard of her computer. A simple vellum envelope with “My Elf” scrawled across the front.
Four business card-sized pieces of ecru cardstock tumbled from the letter when she opened it.
My Elf,
I find myself replaying the events following the receipt of your second gift. Each time I envision you before me, my cock warm and snug between your lips, I cannot help but wish for the same succulent treat again.
I know you enjoyed those moments as much as I.
Enclosed you will find invitations which allow you the opportunity to fulfill my fondest wish at a time you determine.
Though I have only presented you with four invitations, should you require more ‑‑ and both my cock and myself pray you do ‑‑ more will be provided.
With alacrity.
Yours, most eagerly receptive,
Santa
Picking up the cardstock, Elf examined the invitations. A thin copper border surrounded each of the cards, matching the embossed text. All four bore the same inscription:
Bearer requests the recipient allow her the indulgence of performing one act of fellatio
A smile lifted her lips as she imagined presenting one of the cards to Dayton. She remembered the sound of his enjoyment when she’d suckled his flesh. It didn’t take much to bring the details of the encounter to mind, but a part of her hesitated as she held the cards in her hand.
So far, she hadn’t needed to be the aggressor in their encounters. She enjoyed knowing Dayton wanted her. He made his desires clear and she could accept or refuse as she saw fit. It made her nervous thinking of advertising her needs to him. Taking the chance he would reject her advances.
Shaking the thoughts away, Elf tucked the invitations inside the note. She returned them to the envelope and slid it away in her purse. Later, she promised herself, she would examine the jumble of emotions later.
Since the note had been on her keyboard, she assumed the meeting with Mr. Halsey had concluded and Dayton was alone in his office. Scooping up the stack of mail requiring a response and the letters needing his signature, Elf moved through the connecting door.
Seated at his drafting table bent over some diagram, Dayton appeared to ignore her entrance. Stepping behind his desk, she straightened the rolled-up blueprints, several pink “While you were out” phone message slips from the previous day, and the wooden cup holding a dozen sharpened pencils and a few pens. Placing the papers in the cleared area, she informed him, “There are some letters you need to sign and a few items in the mail requiring your attention.”
Though she didn’t hear him move, her body sensed his approach just before he eased in behind her. Squeezing her between him and the desk, his lips slid down her neck. He placed a rectangle of ecru cardstock on the pile of papers. An invitation similar to the four he’d given her, trimmed and embossed in copper. The words were similar to those on her cards:
Bearer requests the recipient allow him the indulgence of performing one act of cunnilingus
Heart slamming in her chest, Elf picked up the embossed rectangle to read it a second time. Dayton’s hands eased beneath her skirt to slide her panties from her hips. While she was still taking in the request, one of his hands roughly shoved aside the stack of papers, rolled-up blueprints, desk blotter, and pencil cup, clearing the top of the desk.
Head spinning, Elf quickly found herself on her back, draped across the polished rosewood, skirt hiked to her hips, and Dayton’s lips caressing hers before she’d taken in what had been written on the card.
“Someone…” she tried to protest.
“Lunch is an hour away, Elf, and breakfast was a long time ago. I’d like a little snack.” Smiling down at her as he adjusted her legs and sank into his chair, Dayton urged, “Lean back, baby. Let me have a taste.”
“You just…” She gasped as his lips trailed fire from her belly button to her clit, sending her hips bowing upward.
“This is just an appetizer, my Elf.” Dayton held her gaze as his fingers threaded through the soft curls sheltering his prize. “When we go to lunch I’ll have a salad, main course, and maybe a dessert.”
“Lunch?” she tried to focus on his words, but the stroke of his fingertips over her clit distracted her.
“Umm hmm…” His eyes dipped to between her thighs as he circled the stiffening nubbin. “I want to bring you up to date on the meeting I just had with Halsey.”
A groan slipped free at his ministrations. Recovering, Elf asked, her hands fisting against the polished rosewood, “Why can’t we just discuss it here?”
“Lunch. Now, let me enjoy my treat.” His eyes rose to capture hers. “I’ll probably want a snack before we leave for the shelter.” His low growl vibrated against her aroused flesh. “Will you deny me, then?”
She gasped as his fingers spread her nether lips, allowing the stiff hair of his beard to tickle the delicate tissues exposed.
“No,” she assured him, her thighs opening wider to accommodate his broad shoulders. Her fingers threaded through the wavy, gray locks, flexing and releasing in time to the suckling of his mouth.
“Good, because I’m sure my cravings will take several servings to satisfy, Elf.” His head rose again so he could meet her heavy-lidded gaze. “Several servings,” he assured her with a wicked grin, moisture from her body glistening in his beard.
Biting her lip to keep from crying out, Elf focused on breathing while her body tightened in anticipation. Her toes curled inside her shoes as his fingers stroked over a particularly sensitive point.
* * * * *
The atmosphere of the restaurant was subdued, intimate. Tiny candles flickered in red globes on each table while the delicious aromas of hearty Italian food filled the air. Conversation was a muted buzz around the room, interrupted by the click of crystal or the infrequent scrape of silverware against china.
Elf allowed her gaze to float around the room, still not sure how Dayton had convinced her to join him for dinner. The low rumble from her belly answered her unasked question. The amused grin and flash of laughter in her escort’s eyes increased the heat flooding her cheeks.
“You really need to eat more at lunch, my Elf,” Dayton teased as he sipped the water the waiter had poured before leaving with their dinner and drinks order.
“I would have,” Elf hissed, pulling one of the warm, crusty rolls from the linen covered basket. “If I hadn’t been…” The heat washed back into her cheeks and down her neck.
“Coming?” he prompted, his face a mask of innocence.
“Distracted,” she replied, stuffing a bite of roll into her mouth and chewing furiously.
Reaching across the table, Dayton lifted her water glass and set it closer to his place setting. “Slide over here.” His words were a command, not a request.
Not allowing her eyes to stray to the tables nearby, Elf collected her plates and silverware, and slid along the booth’s bench seat. The table was in a secluded corner of the room, the high-backed booth enhanced the illusion of privacy just as the low lighting promoted intimate conversation.
When they’d returned from the shelter, and were riding the elevator up to his penthouse, her stomach rumbled its protest at being ignored. Dayton had chuckled beside her, his fingers already slipping the broad leather belt from around his waist. “We’ll get changed and hit La Paloma,” he’d advised her as the doors slid open on the living room of his apartment.
Stepping through with him on her heels, Elf protested, shaking her head, “I can get something on the way home…”
His hand at her waist had
ushered her toward his bedroom while his voice vetoed her suggestion, “There’s no reason for you to do so. La Paloma is just around the corner. I’m hungry. You’re hungry.”
“But, I…”
Refusing hadn’t been an option. Just as being stripped of her sexy undergarments hadn’t been debatable. Seated beside him, feeling the soft, knit material of her sweater dress against her naked breasts and bottom, Elf squirmed a bit.
“You’ll get used to it,” Dayton assured her.
“Get used to what?”
“Being nude.”
Elf didn’t respond since the waiter chose that moment to approach their table and set the dinner salads and drinks in front of them. After administering a quick grind of fresh pepper, he departed.
Even after he left, Elf didn’t know what to say. The situation was so foreign to her. Yes, she’d had lunch with Dayton before, but always when it involved work. As had happened earlier in the day when he discussed the changes in the contract with Halsey Unlimited. Keeping her attention on the contents of her salad, it was a moment before she sensed he was staring at her. Turning to meet his gaze, she finished chewing the bite in her mouth and swallowed. “What?”
Pushing the half-finished plate away, Dayton folded his arms on the edge of the table and grinned at her, “I never quite pegged you as shy.”
“I’m not.” She shrugged, pushing her own plate aside and using the napkin to dab at the corners of her mouth.
“You’re not usually so quiet, either.” Dayton leaned back as the waiter approached and removed the salad plates. Another server hovered behind him bearing a tray with their entrées. Once they were alone again, he continued, “I expected some kind of conversation…”
“Hello, Elfina.” The newcomer stood in front of the table, his gaze on Elf after a cursory look at Dayton.
Elf’s expression went taut, her spine straightened, and she offered no smile, “Dean.” Her cool eyes turned to the woman beside him, “Lana.”
Dayton quickly assessed the other man. Probably six feet, light blond hair, blue eyes, wearing a tweed blazer, khaki slacks, tan shirt, and brown shoes. The woman beside him was overblown. Her blonde hair was artfully tousled. A sleek red dress skimmed her surgically enhanced breasts, slender waist, and curving hips. Matching heels raised her to the same height as her escort, but the expression on her over-made up face and in her brown eyes was one of boredom.
“I’m surprised to see you here.”
The way the man was allowing his gaze to drift over Elf’s face and body, ignited a spark of anger in Dayton’s belly. When his eyes lingered on the curve of Elf’s breast, so obviously free of confinement beneath her knit dress, Dayton determined it was time to issue a warning.
Standing, he offered a polite smile even as he stepped closer to Dean, invading the other man’s personal space and forcing him to retreat a step. “I’m sorry, we haven’t met.” His hand was presented and grasped by the younger man.
“I’m sorry, Dayton.” Elf performed the introductions. “This is Dean Reynolds and his…friend, Lana DuLaine.” Her voice grew chilly. “Dean, Lana, my boss, Dayton Kringle.”
“Dean Reynolds? Abrams, Denton, and Reynolds Construction?” Dayton asked. A quick battle over whose grip was strongest was decided when Reynolds flinched and Dayton released his hand.
“Yes. My father is one of the owners,” Dean responded coolly.
Resuming his seat, Dayton tugged Elf against his side, sliding his hand over her thigh, and beneath the hem of her skirt. Stroking over the copper silk stockings and up to the lace bands securing them high on her thighs, he noted the heat entering Reynolds’s eyes and the flare of his nostrils. Keeping his tone conversational Dayton nodded, “I’ve heard it’s an old-fashioned firm.” His tone implied old-fashioned didn’t necessarily mean good.
Dean’s cheeks flushed; behind him the maitre d’ cleared his throat. Offering a tight smile, Dean said, “We’ll let you get back to your dinner. Mr. Kringle.” His eyes shot daggers at Elf. “Elfina.”
His Elf merely nodded back, her hand gripping her fork as she stirred the penne pasta into the sauce on her plate. Waiting until the other couple had moved away, he sampled his dinner, never removing his hand from beneath the hem of her dress. “I take it Mr. Reynolds is an old friend?” he asked after several tense moments of silence.
Against the gentle caress of his fingers along the inside of her thighs and the back of her left knee, he felt Elf begin to relax. At his question, she shook her head. “No.” She finished chewing the bite of pasta. “Not a friend anymore.”
“The woman with him?” He knew instinctively Reynolds had made the mistake of stepping out on Elf. As his fingers skimmed the warm curve of her thigh, edging closer to the damp curls he knew were waiting for him, he wondered how the man could be so stupid.
Elf shook her head. “No, but one just like her.” A reluctant smile curved her lips as she met his gaze. “In fact, I was surprised the maitre d’ didn’t recognize me, considering I dumped a whole plate of lasagna in Dean’s lap when I caught him here.”
His chuckle spilled out as he envisioned just how his Elf would have dealt with a man cheating on her. “And the other woman? What did she get bathed in?”
Elf set down her fork and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “It would have been lobster bisque, but my friend Jodi, and my mom, who were with me when I saw him, said she was TVTH.”
“TVTH?”
“Too vacuous to hate.” Elf had to grin at his amusement. Even as he laughed at her retelling of the incident, she had to stifle a gasp as his fingers dipped between her labia and circled her clit.
The humor lit his gaze, but a cunning smile curved his lips. Leaning close, his breath whispering across her cheek even as he squeezed her sensitive knob between his forefinger and middle finger, he commanded, “Move to the edge of the seat, Elf, and pull your skirt up.”
She didn’t hesitate. As discreetly as possible she edged to the end of the banquette, shifting her skirt to her hips. The warm leather adhered to her skin, making little squeaking noises as she rocked against his strumming fingers.
“Stay still, my Elf.” His voice remained low. Setting aside their meals, he motioned the waiter over even as his fingers smoothed open her pussy and traced the channel dripping with her arousal.
Elf kept her hands folded on the table, her expression, she hoped, remained bland as she fought the need to push against the teasing caress of his fingertips. Calloused skin moved around the protruding flesh of her clit, before dipping into her wet sheath and pressing deep. With her attention split between the need his touch sent twisting through her belly and the muted conversation with the waiter, Elf wasn’t surprised at the curious glance the server shot her before he moved away from the table. Her hands moved to grip the table as his strokes increased their pace, driving her closer to orgasm.
Body trembling with the need to move, her teeth tugged at her bottom lip, and her eyes squeezed shut. The warm brush of his breath against her throat nearly broke her concentration. The heat emanating from his broad shoulders engulfed her like a blanket, spreading over her, surrounding her in his warmth.
“You feel it, my Elf?” His words drifted across her cheek, the scrape of his beard tickled her jaw.
She didn’t trust herself to speak without crying out, so she nodded, a jerky little gesture that earned a chuckle.
“You may not climax until I give you permission.” His voice brooked no argument.
Heavy lids lifted over her eyes to try focusing on his. A soft whimper escaped her lips.
“Look over my shoulder.” His lips nibbled at the sensitive spot just behind her left hear.
Elf tipped her head to give him better access and did as he told her. Scanning the occupants of the dining room, she wasn’t shocked to notice Dean and Lana had been seated within view of their table. In fact, Dean’s gaze seemed intent on watching them.
Turning her own lips to Dayton’s ear, she nipped at
the lobe, and begged, “Please.”
Fabric was pressed into her hand as the pace was again increased. The thrust and retreat of his fingers rasped over one particular spot that threatened to break her control.
“When you come, press this close,” he directed. “You’re so wet, you’re sure to ruin that pretty dress of yours if you don’t use something to catch your juices ‑‑ much as I regret wasting such good honey.”
Sliding her hand beneath the table, Elf held the napkin under his stroking hand.
“Now, let him see you.” He ordered, his hand moving faster, thumb circling and pressing her clit. “Let him see you come and know who you belong to.”
Elf did. She waited until Dean’s gaze was locked with hers and allowed her climax to course through her. Shuddering deep inside, she felt her face flush, her breasts swell, and her vagina grip and contract around Dayton’s touch, all the while holding Dean’s eyes across the room. A throaty laugh slipped free as she recognized the stunned comprehension on her ex’s face just before she melted into Dayton’s arms.
His hand cradled hers as he held the napkin against her quivering pussy, stemming the liquid heat of her orgasm. Even when the waiter returned the boxed remains of their dinner, and set a single slice of cheesecake on the table, he didn’t release her.
The stamp of his ownership firmly marked her as his possession to anyone caring to look into the darkened corner of the room. Elf couldn’t argue it, and, more importantly, she didn’t want to.
Chapter Eight
Friday after lunch Elf returned from running a document down to the legal department to find her newest present set square in the middle of her desk blotter. The fifth note rolled up inside the slim black jewelry case along with his unique gift read:
My Elf,
I decided to keep with tradition ‑‑ in a manner. I gift you with five gold rings, but these are not rings to be worn on your fingers or toes.