Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

by M. Robinson

  It makes sense.

  I stare out the window, knowing it’s not going to be the escape I need. I’m sure the house is surrounded by now. I need a moment to figure out what I’m going to do. Being able to take deep breaths without feeling like my heart is going to be strangled will be a good start.

  I stare at my reflection in the glass, the flames of the fire lighting up feature and shadowing others. On the outside, I’m still put together. My makeup and hair are still on point, and there is no outer sign of the hurricane of emotions rushing through me.

  One of the emotions being lust.

  The other being panic.

  “Fuuuuuuck,” I whisper on exhale.

  Nick Hudson wants to fuck me. He wants me. Me.

  He also wants to save my life tonight.

  A fuck for my life? Is it as simple as that?

  I stare at the reflection of a woman I don’t recognize. Of course he wants the woman in the mirror. On the surface she represents everything that makes a man like him tick. But on the inside… he has no fucking clue who I am.

  Protection. He offered me protection for tonight which I clearly need. Who knows what will happen next if I refuse him? Death most likely. Or torture. Or both.

  Stupid. Why the fuck would I turn that down? He’s trying to help, and I’m letting my game of “hard to get” get in the way of my safety.

  “Fucking beautiful,” I hear behind me, forcing me to turn around to face him again.

  The scared little girl in me wants to beg for help. But the rejected woman who has had to fight for everything in her life forces me to still keep up my guard. Ice Queen is better than cowering weakling.

  “You like what you see?” I ask, straightening up and taking a step toward him. I won’t allow him to see my distress. Never.

  “You know I do.”

  “So, what happens now that I turned down your protection?”

  “Nothing, because I won’t allow it. You have been claimed by Nick Hudson for tonight. That ship has sailed, my girl, and you are on it. There isn’t a killer in the entire state who would touch you with a ten-foot pole. Not yet at least. Not while you’re with me. Maxim’s out there. He’s pissed, no doubt. But he won’t cross me.”

  “The Sidorov family may disagree with just how powerful you think you are.”

  He rocks his cane back and forth nonchalantly. It’s jovial and, yet, sinister at the same time. “There are rules in our dark underworld. I’m playing by the rules. I claimed you for a night, and there isn’t anyone who will argue with that. So, rest easy. You’re safe.”

  “As long as I suck your dick, right?” I ask, crossing my arms against my chest. I can feel the beating of my heartbeat, the knocking of fear against my chest. “That’s the price for my life tonight?”

  “You’d suck my dick by the end of the night regardless,” he says with a smirk. “You and I both know that.”

  “You’re an asshole,” I snap.

  “Yes. Very much so.”

  “You think any woman you approach at this party will want to fuck you?”

  He chuckles. “No. But I know you will.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because I know you. I’ve studied you.”

  “Your information is wrong. I’m not a whore.”

  “I never said you were,” he replies casually. “You’re a woman who will do anything to survive. And well… tonight, you know exactly what that is in order to do so.”

  No. I’m a woman who is pissed off at myself. How did I let it get here? Why would I put myself in this situation?

  “And I know you. I’ve studied you,” I counter.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less. I’d be disappointed in you if you hadn’t gotten hold of the guest list and studied every single person in attendance.”

  “And you did the same, I take it?” I ask.

  “But of course,” he says. “I know all about you. Every last thing except one.” He clears the remaining distance between us, takes hold of my hair, and pulls my head back. He brings his lips to my mouth so close I can feel his breath, and then he returns the lick I gave him. The wetness of his tongue strokes over my lips in a tease. “I don’t know what you look like naked. And I’d like to fix that tonight.”

  “Here?” I ask, not trying to break free from his grasp. The sting on my scalp ignites the desire for more, and I hate myself for it.

  I shouldn’t allow this. I should resist. But do I really have a choice?

  “The door’s locked.”

  “Why not Wonderland? Why don’t we leave and go there?”

  He laughs and continues to lick down my neck, nipping on my flesh as he does. “Maybe later. That all depends.”

  “On?”

  “You’ve done your research on Wonderland, yes?”

  “Yes,” I answer, struggling not to push my body next to his for more connection than the tantalizing trail of his tongue and teeth.

  “Then you know Wonderland doesn’t allow innocence, it doesn’t allow goodness, and it sure as hell doesn’t allow virgins through the doors.”

  “I’m none of those,” I say as he tightens his grip on my hair and pushes me back against the wall.

  He laughs manically. “Yes, my girl. You are. But we can change that. I don’t mind soiling you up.”

  I want to leave the Morelli mansion desperately, and Wonderland feels like a far-off place that no one can reach me in. It could be my tower that no one can climb. Right now, it feels as if Maxim is on the other side of the heavy door of the study. I want to be safe. I want to live. And yes… Hudson is correct. I’ll do anything to survive.

  He continues on. “And you also know that Wonderland only allows people with the dark, the extremely dirty, and the most fucked-up sexual tastes past its threshold.”

  I don’t answer but a tiny mewl escapes my lips as he kisses the side of my neck.

  “And you also know,” he continues as he sucks on the tip of my ear, “that Wonderland is invite only.”

  Deciding the only way I can quiet the maddening terror in my mind and body, I morph into the picture of the woman I pretend to be when I’m at my most vulnerable. I switch something inside of me as a way to shield. I prepare for battle. I go to war. Not me. Not the real me. But I’ve mastered a way of bringing a hidden demon to the surface when I need to. I stop being Lyriope and turn into the woman no one wants to fuck with. Is it fake? Do I pretend?

  Yes.

  But I must do what I have to in order to survive.

  I lower my hand and place it on his thick cock tenting his pinstripe pants. I squeeze hard enough that I hear him inhale sharply. “Then invite me in.”

  Chapter Four

  Nick

  “Not yet, my girl. Not yet,” I growl as my dick hardens and I nip at her pouty bottom lip.

  “I thought you wanted to fuck me.” Her dark eyes look up at me, and I see a story in them I desperately want to read. “It’s my payment. The deal with the devil, right?”

  “Oh yes. I do want to fuck you. But Wonderland is more than just fucking. You have to earn an invitation to my world.”

  I release the hold of her hair and take her hand in mine. Without saying another word, I escort her to a couch on the other side of the room near massive shelves full of unread books in hard covering and gold spines.

  “You aren’t ready for Wonderland,” I say as I reposition my body so I can look directly at her. “And Wonderland isn’t ready for you.”

  She crosses her arms and looks out the window to our left with a slight pout to her lips.

  “But don’t worry,” I say as I take a piece of her dark hair in my fingers and twirl. “You’ll be safe.”

  Her eyes lock with mine. “For a night. For a price.”

  I smile, move my fingers to the nape of her neck, and pull her face to mine. “But what a night it will be. And everything in life has a price.”

  “Do the Sidorovs know I’m with you right now? Do they know why y
ou’re protecting me?” Every word releases a puff of air that caresses my face, and I can’t resist looking at her lips as she speaks.

  “I’m sure by now, they know you’re with me. Do they know why?” I lean forward and kiss her softly. “No. What happens tonight is between you and me. Our dirty little secret. How dirty it is will be decided soon enough.”

  “What if one of the Morellis enters the room?” she mumbles against my kiss as she touches her tongue to mine.

  “We’re alone and behind a locked door.” I pull her closer.

  “So if I fuck you, then you’ll help me leave this mansion afterwards?”

  “Yes.” I’m a man of my word.

  “I’m guaranteed to be safe?”

  I pull away from the kiss and laugh. “No. Nothing is safe with me.”

  Growing impatient and needing to see what’s underneath all the silver that covers her, I yank up her shimmery dress, I take hold of the dainty material of her panties and pull hard, tearing them from her body. I’m used to women acting insulted, afraid, and even more concerned about replacing their expensive panties than what’s to come.

  But not Lyriope.

  Oh Jesus Christ, not her.

  Instead, she simply stares at me, licks her lips, places her finger into her mouth, widens her legs, so I can see her sex on full display, and then lowers her finger to the lips of her pussy and dips it into the folds.

  “You want this?” she asks with narrow eyes and a quirk of her lip.

  She runs her fingertip over her clit, her expression icy and poised as only she can do.

  My mouth waters with just how much I do.

  “Maybe I don’t need you,” she says as she pushes her finger into her pussy and begins fucking herself with it.

  I see her juices on her finger, and I want to lick every drop off.

  “You don’t need me,” I say as I crawl toward her open legs. “But you want me. I can smell it on you.” Not playing this cat and mouse game anymore, I put my nose right up to her cunt, with her finger still massaging all around, and inhale. “And it smells fucking delicious.”

  She shoves my head away and snaps her legs shut. I lean back and look up at her with a mixture of annoyance and humor. I truly have to hand it to the girl. She likes her games.

  “I’d like to add one other stipulation,” she says, and though I don’t enjoy bargaining, I decide to humor her by listening.

  “Go on…”

  “You help me find safety beyond just tonight.”

  “You made your bed—”

  “I’m not asking for you to get involved fully,” she interrupts. “I’m just asking for some time. For some direction.” Her eyes are pleading even though her voice doesn’t waver in the slightest. The woman fascinates me with her bravado.

  “So, spell this out,” I begin. “What exactly is it you’re asking?”

  “I need you to keep me alive.” She’s trying so hard to appear strong, but the small trembles in her body tell me otherwise. “I know they will be waiting for me when the sun comes, because you only asked for one night.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m asking for more than one night.”

  “And I get what in return?” I like how bold she is. She’d do amazingly well at my tea table among the most callous. She clearly has balls of steel and isn’t afraid to negotiate and use her sexual powers to get her way.

  “You get me.”

  “I already have you—at least for tonight.”

  “There’s a difference between fucking a dead fish and fucking someone who gives as much as she takes. You know this.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. “I’d rather not fuck a dead fish. True.”

  “So, keep me safe beyond tonight, and you’ll get far more than that. You can fuck me more than once if I’m alive beyond morning.”

  I stand up, allowing a smile to take over my face. I begin undressing in front of her, removing my clothing one item at a time without saying a single word. I notice how her eyes watch me. I see the desire and lust beneath her hooded lids.

  “Very well,” I finally say. “You won’t die at dawn. I’ll get you out of this mansion undetected, and help you figure out a way to stay alive.”

  Her eyes light up, and for a moment she almost fully shows her cards, but she quickly composes herself.

  “But first,” I say, now that I’m completely naked. “I want those lips wrapped around my dick. I hate conducting business deals when I’m hungry. It’s time you feed my appetite.”

  She’s a wise woman because she doesn’t hesitate in the slightest. She’s going to seal this deal with the devil before I change my mind. What she doesn’t know is that I had no intention of ever throwing her out to the wolves. I may be an asshole, but I’m not a monster.

  Well… I may be a monster, but I’m not a killer.

  Well… there were those men who—

  Okay… so I’m the bad guy in the story, but I sure as hell am not going to let the poor girl die the minute I fuck her. Even I have limits.

  She stands from the couch, seductively walks toward me, her hips swaying side to side in glittering silver, and takes hold of my hand. Guiding me over to the edge of the cushions, she pushes me down to sit and kneels between my legs. My dick is at attention as I lean back and place my hands behind my head with my own Cheshire grin.

  “God, you are such an asshole,” she murmurs with an eye-roll right before she licks the entire length of my shaft.

  “Yessss,” I hiss as I ready myself for what I can already tell will be the best blow job of my life. “Watch the teeth,” I warn. “I bite back harder.”

  She takes hold of my cock with one fist, places her lips on the tip of my head, and then lowers her mouth all the way down. Like the good girl she is, she completely deep-throats me on the first pass and swallows my entire length. I enjoy the fact that I don’t have to coax her, instruct her, or threaten to punish her if she doesn’t do a good job.

  My Lyriope is eager to please me.

  She sucks up and down my cock faster and faster. She pushes me in deeper and deeper, causing her to occasionally gag which only brings my orgasm closer to the surface. Tears fill her eyes, and the perfect mascara she’s wearing begins to run in the corners. I fucking love every second of it. I take hold of her head and begin controlling the pace. I like it fast and hard, with saliva dripping from her lips, and she’s willing to give me exactly that.

  The beast inside of me growls for more than just a mouth sucking. I yank Lyriope up off her knees and have her stand before me. Taking a deep breath, I demand, “As much as you are the belle of the ball in that silver dress. I want to see it piled on the floor by your feet. Take it off.”

  Locking her eyes with mine, she reaches behind her back and unzips. She then lowers the straps one by one and slowly pulls the dress from her body. When it drops to her feet, she steps out of it and stands before me completely nude.

  “Yesss,” I growl as I notice the tattoo of flowers that runs from the top of her rib cage all the way down her right thigh. “I fucking love a marked woman.”

  I take her hand, pull her against me, and kiss her hard. There are so many ways I want to fuck this woman, but right now I’m going to savor every wicked moment I can. I like games, and the thought of toying with her longer makes my cock grow even harder. Fucking her means the games come to an end, and I’m not done playing yet.

  Chapter Five

  Lyriope

  I shouldn’t like this, but I do.

  I’m not this type of girl, and yet… maybe I am.

  He was correct in saying that I’m innocent. I am a virgin. But I don’t have the luxury to remain that way for long.

  I don’t have a choice if I want to live.

  But is that the entire truth?

  He’s making me…

  Or is he?

  My mind races with all the no, no, no. But my body builds with the yes, yes, yes.

  He’s going to fuck me. His cock is going to spread me wide. I
t’s going to hurt. I can see that fact simply from his size and thickness. This isn’t the way I pictured losing my virginity. I should run away. I should scream. I should beg for mercy and hope that he stops.

  I should.

  But I don’t.

  Instead, I simply kiss him back with as much passion as he delivers in his claiming of my mouth, until I pull away breathless with the need to regain some sense of control.

  The tattoos on every inch of his body mesmerize me. I can’t help but look at each one that I can, wanting so badly to trace my fingertips over them and ask the story behind each one. I see a Cheshire Cat on his abs, The Hare on his tricep. But I don’t see an Alice tattoo.

  Fuck me… I want to be his Alice.

  I want my blood tattooed in his skin and a part of the masterpiece before me. I want to be part of him. I want to be one with his inked flesh. I’ve never seen a sexier man than the one hovering over me.

  But for now—as he takes hold of me and thrusts his finger inside of me—I cry out in both lust and fear of what’s to come.

  I want him so badly that I scream out his name. He’s commanding the wild out of me, and though I should hate this man—I should detest what he’s making me do in exchange for my life—I can’t.

  Instead, I want more.

  He teases me of what’s to come as he begins to push and pull his finger out in a cadence that demands my completion. I don’t want to cum yet, and yet I can’t help it. My body jerks in pleasure almost immediately, but it’s not satisfied with just one. Though my pussy pulsates around his ministrations, I don’t want it to stop. I need more. God, I need more. I’ve never wanted a man to fuck me…until now.

  “That’s right,” he coos as he kisses me again. “Come like a good girl.”

  I cling to his back and claw my way down his spine. I’m marring his perfect artwork and love every second of it. If I die tomorrow, I want him to remember me for days. I want to scar his body, even if I can’t scar his soul. He’ll remember me. He’ll fucking remember me.

  Our bodies move together like two lovers who know every inch of each other rather than two strangers who just met. He pushes a second finger inside me, and I readily accept. He pulls out, and I cling for him to return. Christmas lights twinkle off the mantel of the elegant study, and for this moment in time, as my next orgasm builds, the darkness inside of me is gone.