Chapter 16

CHAPTER16

The Yule cat was probably one of the weirdest things she’d encountered since her new life had begun, but she felt like she was becoming immune to bizarre shocks at this point. With all of the expensive, upscale clothing he’d given her, the ugly sweater had been a bigger shock.

But once the Yule Cat had gone away, they cuddled. She didn’t feel the least bit turned on after being jarred so abruptly from sleep, but after a few minutes in his arms, things began to heat up.

She’d discovered that he had a ticklish spot by accident. The fact that Krampus was ticklish amused her. She wouldn’t have expected it from a powerful immortal creature, but there was that one spot on his hip. Once she knew it was there, she couldn’t resist.

Tickling turned into wrestling as she tried to reach the spot, and he worked to prevent her. That ended when he yanked a string of lights, still lit, off the tree and used them to bind her hands over her head so that he could ‘punish’ her.

The fact that the punishment involved him using his long Krampus tongue to fuck her until she was completely incoherent made it less than effective for teaching her a lesson, but neither of them were under any assumptions that it was really punishment anyway. Once she’d caught her breath and stopped jerking with aftershocks, she’d been able to untangle the string of lights from her wrists, but then her fingers had been drawn right back to his hip. She just couldn’t stop herself, which led to round three.

Thatwas when the tree got knocked over. Half of the ornaments ended up broken on the floor and Master ended up with a chunk of glass imbedded in his thigh when he rolled over on the destruction.

It was amazing to watch his skin knit up once she’d removed the glass. “Holy shit. Do you always heal like that?”

He twisted to look down at the rapidly vanishing cut. “Here? Always. This is my place of power. On Earth it can be slower, but not at this time of year. I’m at the height of my power this month.”

“I wish I healed faster.”

He snorted and gave her a look. “You really haven’t noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“You do heal faster now. You would here anyway—it’s built into this place. Necessary for my work, but once you’re officially my mate, you’ll gain a good deal of my power.”

She frowned. “Aren’t I your mate already?” Wasn’t that part of the deal?

Master hesitated. “Not quite yet. There are a few formalities we have to take care of first.”

“What, do I have to meet your family or something?” She squinted at him and tried to picture what that would be like.

He looked appalled. “No, definitely not. It… is not a conversation for now. We’ll talk about it later,” he said firmly and then he got to his feet and stared at the wreckage that surrounded them. “Why don’t I send this all away and we can start over with a new tree?”

“No, don’t… please? We can fix it,” she said quickly as she got up to survey the damage.

“But some of the branches are broken and the decorations…” His brow furrowed as he looked over the mess.

“I know. I don’t mind.” That was the truth. She didn’t mind at all. Actually she liked the tree better now that it was banged up a little.

One eyebrow rose as he stared at her. “If you prefer.” The unspoken ‘Humans are weird, but I’ll put up with it.’ was very clear in his tone.

There were several long-suffering sighs as he pulled the tree up and stabilized it. One of the branches had broken off entirely and ended up on the mantle. The rest, she was able to push back into place, more or less, and by the time they were done, it didn’t look too bad.

“See? Easy.”

“And what do you want to do about the ornaments?” he asked, in a carefully neutral tone of voice.

“Oh, well some of them are completely destroyed.” She frowned as she knelt down and began to sort them. “The rest just need a little glue, or tape.”

“Glue… or tape?”

“Yes, can you get some?” She looked up, a hopeful smile tilting her mouth up at the corners.

“You want to tape magical illusions back together?”

Aline rolled her eyes. “No. I want to fix these special ornaments that we spent all day choosing and putting on the tree, for our first Christmas together.” When she put it like that, he couldn’t really argue the point.

So they spent the morning gluing ornaments. Each one that they managed to repair required a ceremonial placement on the tree, complete with cheering (from her) and sighing (from him), but she could tell he didn’t really mind.

When they’d salvaged as much as they could, they stood back to look at the tree. It leaned a little, and one side was definitely fuller than the other. The ornaments had been placed strategically to hide bare spots and bent branches.

It was perfectly imperfect, and it meant everything to her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him. “This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”

“Humans,” he said, sighing. But his mouth tilted up at one corner and his arms slipped around her, squeezing in a comforting way.

Then his hands slipped down to her ass and squeezed in an entirely different way. Her head tipped back, and his mouth came down on hers. They got lost in each other quickly. It was like they were making up for the weeks they’d denied themselves.

She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and he held her in his arms while they kissed and licked and nibbled at each other. But when things got too heated, she pulled back and shot a look at the tree.

“Maybe, we should use the bedroom this time?” As much as she’d enjoyed fixing things with him, she didn’t want to spend the rest of the day doing it a second time.

He followed her glance to the tree and understood immediately. “Ah… good idea.”

They retired to the bedroom for the remainder of Christmas. Trays of food and drink were delivered there, so they had no need to leave.

They were well into January before the pent-up sexual need finally seemed to diminish enough for them to go back to their old schedule. Which only meant that they were back to dating during the day, and filling their evenings with BDSM explorations.

She found their evening encounters to be so much more satisfying now that orgasms were on the table, and their scenes often ended in sex. It was as wonderful as she’d thought it would be.

Not that he always allowed her to climax, of course. Edging her into frustration was something he enjoyed, though he didn’t deny himself anymore. There were many nights she went to sleep with her body aching and needy, with her belly full of apple cider cum.

Something about it sated her emotions, if not her body. She loved and hated being called his “good little slut” while he fisted her hair and fucked her mouth. Even better was when he made her beg for the privilege and then had to work desperately to please him in a given time limit.

“You better work that throat if you want to come tonight, bunny. You’ve only got a minute left.” With his supernatural endurance, whether she made it or not was entirely his decision. It added to the frustration, because she knew that all the sucking and tonguing in the world wouldn’t make him come during the allotted time, unless he wanted to.

It was unfair, but that just added something to it. She learned that on some level, unfairness could be hot. Cruel punishments, that she knew full well she didn’t deserve, made her body react in ways that nothing else did.

Some of the most spectacular orgasms came from being shamed and punished for failing at an impossible task. There were particular scenes that stood out in her mind as pinnacles, like the night he’d shaved her pussy.

It was on Valentine’s Day evening. They’d had a sweet, romantic date and he’d been so gentle and kind all day, but that stopped when he carried her to the bedroom after dinner.

He’d dropped her on the bed but didn’t join her. “Play with yourself. How many times do you think you can make yourself come in five minutes?”

She considered it. Her body always seemed close to arousal these days and it didn’t take much to get her there. “Three or four with just my fingers. With a vibrator… maybe more.”

“No vibrator. Just your fingers. I want five in five or I’m going to punish you.” He made a show of looking at his watch, and then just stood over her, leering.

The way he just loomed over her and waited made it awkward to get started, and even though the threat of punishment helped, she only managed to come twice before the time was up.

He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Was I not clear about what I wanted from you? How many orgasms did I say I wanted?”

“I’m sorry, Master. I could try again?” There was a breathiness in her voice, not from what she’d just done, but from what she knew was coming.

“You can and you will—later.” The emphasis on the final word was ominous.

She found herself being dragged down the hall to their playroom and strapped over the spanking bench, but not face down. He placed her on her back, with her legs spread and restrained.

He positioned her so that her ass was right at the padded edge, and her pussy was splayed and presented. He grabbed a little curl between his fingers and tugged. “You’ve never had a really thorough pussy spanking, and I think it’s time.”

She disagreed with him on that. He’d spanked between her thighs a number of times and with different implements, but she wasn’t going to correct him, not while she was so vulnerable. But her idea of thorough and his turned out to be entirely different.

Whatever she was expecting hadn’t included an old-fashioned straight razor or a bowl of shaving cream. He covered her mound in white lather and was overly generous with it. The fact that it was mentholated made it hard to stay still, and that was a problem once he started with the razor.

She knew in her heart that he would never let her be badly hurt. She knew that even if she did get cut by accident, his magic would fix her right up. It didn’t matter.

There was something terrifying and thrilling about watching as he swept the wickedly sharp edge of the blade down across her most delicate places. It was oddly erotic to watch him slice away the lather and with it all of her pubic hair, until she was bald between her legs.

He gave the plump folds a light spank with his hand. “There. The spanking will be better without that cushioning. Don’t you think?”

It hadn’t occurred to her, until that moment, why he was shaving her. Uh-oh. “Master, I think if you just give me another chance I—”

“I will. Later.”

He poured warm oil over her mound, and began to massage it into her skin, even between her plump pussy lips. Her clit tightened and began to throb as fingers stroked and circled to find all the nerve endings.

When she was slick, shiny, and desperate to come… he stopped.

She whined, but when she saw him pick up the strap, the air caught in her throat and her eyes went wide as he slapped it down with a loud splatting sound.

Her mouth dropped open but not one syllable emerged until the second stroke landed. That one forced a loud wail from deep in her throat.

It burned more than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. She didn’t know if it was the narrow strip of rubber itself, or the fact that her skin had been oiled. Maybe it was because she was freshly shaved, and the mentholated lather had woken her nerve endings. It could have been all of that combined.

What she did know was that the fierce sting was impossible to get away from. If he hadn’t paused constantly to stroke and rub, keeping her arousal high, she wasn’t sure how she would have gotten through it.

Aline was sobbing and her pussy felt like it was swollen to twice the normal size, when he dropped her back on the bed to try again. She stared up at him through watery eyes, and then looked down at her bright red pussy.

“Start,” he said. There was a clear order there.

Everything was so sore she didn’t even want to touch herself, but she forced her fingers down, parting the folds to find her clit. The little nub had gotten smacked a few times and there was some soreness there. Rubbing helped, and she was still slick with arousal, so it didn’t take long to coax her body into pushing past the pain so she could enjoy the pleasure.

She didn’t make herself come five times. It was only once, but the climax shook her whole body, and before she could continue, he was pushing her hands away and crawling between her legs to lap at her with his long tongue.

She lost track of how many times she climaxed after that. She was a mewling dripping mess by the time he was done with his tongue. Her body was so sensitive that even the slightest breeze made her twitch and whimper. She thought he was finished with her then.

He wasn’t.

He flipped her over, pulled her up onto her knees and then he pushed into her from behind without warning. The suddenness of it tipped her over into another intense orgasm and she clenched so tight around his cock that she almost pulled him over the edge too. Even his endurance could only stretch so far.

It was in the aftermath that she told him she loved him for the first time. They’d been together less than four months, but she was sure of it by then. It wasn’t the pleasure or the hormones speaking. It was just that she felt safe and vulnerable in that moment.

Curled up in his arms, sticky and sore, she felt like she belonged to him. “I love you.”

He heard her, because he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to his body. His hot breath rustled her hair as it blew across her ear.

She waited for him to respond, but he didn’t say anything.

It bothered her. Logically she understood it. He was an immortal who was still getting used to feeling things. Plus, men often had trouble saying those words.

But it still bothered her.

She decided not to say it again, until he did. Months passed, and she’d feel that love strongly at times, but she wouldn’t let the words cross her lips. The year was half gone when she decided that wasn’t working.

Maybe she was going about it the wrong way. It was possible that he thought she’d only said it the once out of passion. He might not realize she’d meant it. Or maybe, the personification of punishment, just didn’t realize you were supposed to say the words.

She switched things up and started saying it frequently. When they were having a romantic moment, she’d slip it in and he’d smile, or hug her—but he didn’t say it back.

After a bout of amazing sex, when they were both sweaty and exhausted, she’d sprawl across his chest and whisper it in his ear, and he’d pat her ass or chuckle, but he wouldn’t say he felt the same.

It was frustrating because she believed he did love her. She could see it in the small gestures. Not the grand gifts, which didn’t mean much to her, and were effortless for him, but the thoughtful little things he did just to make her happy.

But every time she said the words and he didn’t… it hurt.

It was the one part of their relationship that upset her. The one fault. Everything else was exactly the way it should be. If she wasn’t already committed to staying with him, she’d have assumed engagement would be on the horizon.

Though, there were still those formalities he’d mentioned. She brought it up a few times, but he usually pushed her off, saying they’d discuss it later.

When the end of October rolled around, she mentioned it again. “It’s our anniversary,” she said, making the announcement at breakfast.

“Is it?” He tilted his head. “Oh, that’s right. We met on Samhain. I’d forgotten.”

She frowned, drawing her brows down to the center of her forehead as she gave him a mock pout. “You forgot our anniversary?”

He snorted. “No. I just thought our anniversary was the fifth of December, when I brought you here.”

“Well, that is too, of course.”

“We have two?” One eyebrow went up.

“Everyone has at least two. First meeting, first date, sometimes when they got engaged, or married.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

“And I assume we’ll have to celebrate and keep track of all of them?” He was using his ‘humans are weird’ tone again.

“Of course. Well, we only have the first two so far. Um, speaking of that… weren’t we supposed to deal with some formalities to finalize our relationship? Is that going to happen soon?”

He sat back in his seat and regarded her silently for a long moment. “We’ll have some things to talk about first, but hopefully, on our other anniversary, we can make things final.”

“December fifth?”

“Yes.”

“Why do we have to wait until then? Is this another mystical magic thing?”

“Actually it is, yes.”

“Okay, well can you at least tell me what we need to talk about now? I’m sure it’s nothing bad, but it’s going to make me a nervous wreck waiting all month to find out.” She offered him a smile, but it wilted and then faded when she saw the uncomfortable look on his face. “Is it something bad?”

He sighed. “That depends, I suppose.” He pushed his empty plate away and folded his hands on the table. “I haven’t been entirely truthful with you.”

Her stomach flipped and cold fingers of dread crept up her back. “What do you mean?”

“The night we made the deal, and you promised to be mine forever?”

“Yes…”

“Well, that’s not really how this works. Normally when we choose a mate it’s different.” He paused, looking at her, and then continued, “We catch them in the middle of doing something bad usually, and then bring them home for punishment. We spend the year together, as you and I have been, and then at the end of the year you have to choose whether you’ll stay… or leave.”

She was having trouble focusing on his words. “But I agreed to stay already. That was the deal.”

“I may have implied that the deal was binding, but it’s not. You still have the choice to leave. If you decide this life, being with me, isn’t what you want… then you can say no.”

She swallowed and then looked down. A life without him? She couldn’t really imagine that anymore. She’d found happiness here that she hadn’t expected to ever have. But how much of that was based on believing she had no choice?

If she’d known from the start that she only had to stay a year, would that have changed things? She stared at her hands. “So, why did you do it this way?” He shifted in his seat, looking as nervous as she’d ever seen him. Normally he was so confident, but not today.

“It’s gone well for the others who have chosen. Each of them has been successful, but it’s always possible to fail. My pride…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to be the first to fail, so I decided to find someone who fit my preferences but was in need of rescue. That way I could offer to save them in return for their commitment. When I saw you miss the bus and decide to walk, I knew you were going to end up in trouble, so I followed.”

“Wait…” She looked up, frowning. “You saw me get robbed?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you help?”

“You didn’t need me to step in. You got away on your own. After you ran, I retrieved your bag and… took care of the men who’d robbed you.”

She had a feeling she didn’t want to know what he meant by ‘took care of’ so she didn’t ask. “So, you already had my bag when we met?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. This was all a bit much. He’d offered to get the bag, knowing he already had it. It felt… deceitful. She’d made the agreement because she didn’t believe he could follow through on his end.

But he’d known. He’d always known.

“You chose me because I was vulnerable and desperate, and you knew you could make me agree to the deal.” In a way she’d always known that, but it hadn’t felt like such a big thing before.

“I chose you for multiple reasons, of which that was one, yes.”

“What were the others?”

“You were naughty enough to feed me, but definitely redeemable. The only reason you had black on your soul was because you had needs that weren’t being filled. I knew I could fill them all. Your hunger for domination called to me. And I loved your fire and stubbornness.”

The fact that he still hadn’t said he loved her, was there in the back of her mind. He’d told her once to consider it an arranged marriage and that made more sense to her now. She fit a list of criteria and was his best chance to succeed, so he’d taken her.

It could have been anyone, and maybe it was never meant to be her at all. His goal had always been to make sure he would succeed in finding a mate. Any mate would do.

“I need some time to think,” she said.

“What about our anniversary?”

“I’m not in the mood. I’m going to go lay down.” She pushed the heavy dining room chair back and left her breakfast half-eaten on the table.