19. Casper

Chapter 19

Casper

When we were still together, our Christmas Day tradition was a long walk through the countryside before coming home to light a fire and hide from the world.

Saskia would curl up with a book or sit at the table with her jigsaw puzzle. I’d open a bottle of wine and make a start on preparing dinner with orchestral carols on the radio.

There might be music and wine, but this year couldn’t be more different.

Henry and I are on the sofa with our feet up, but while he looks relaxed and comfortable, I’m coiled like a fucking spring. I’ve been watching the two of them make puppy-dog eyes at each other all morning, and she’s been flouncing around in her robe knowing fine well I can’t slip my hands inside like I used to.

Normally she’d cover up in cashmere loungewear, so I feel like she’s up to something. I just can’t figure it out while she keeps her distance.

At the dining table, she strings together even more paper chains. As if she hasn’t already decorated enough.

She likes to do things like this when she’s here, to keep her hands busy and her mind off of work. Surely work is the last thing on her mind while the three of us are in a room together. I can think of plenty of other ways to keep her hands busy.

My thoughts are solely focused on the three of us getting naked, but Henry and I haven’t had a moment together today to come up with our payback plan. I can’t exactly ask him to step outside with me while the snow is still coming down.

I shift, leaning over the back of the sofa, impatient for her attention.

“Hey, what are you wearing underneath your robe?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she says, taking a sip of her wine and refusing to look my way.

“Yes, I would. That’s why I asked.”

“I know what she’s wearing,” Henry says from the other end of the sofa, still working on his crossword.

“What the fuck? How does he get to know, and I don’t?”

“Because I bought it for her, and I was there when she put it on.”

She bites back her smile, certain she has the upper hand. She doesn’t, unless Henry has swapped allegiances again, which he’d better fucking not have. For these games with Saskia, I need him on my side.

“I want to see it,” I tell him. “What do you think, Henry? Can I take a look?”

“Be my guest,” he shrugs.

“Henry!” Saskia shrieks as I leap up and make my way over to where she sits. She picks up another strip of paper, refusing to look my way.

“What?” he laughs. “I think I’d rather enjoy letting him look at what he can’t have anymore. Wasn’t that your plan for him yesterday? To show him once and for all that you’re not his.”

Saskia’s eyes flare and her bottom lip disappears behind her teeth. Henry folds his newspaper away and leaves the comfort of the sofa to join us by the table. I move behind her, lifting her hair to pull it back into a ponytail, wrapping it gently around my fist.

“That really was very naughty of you,” Henry says, tracing his fingers down her cheek to her neck, then slipping the robe off one shoulder. “I suspect your husband is keen for a little payback for that filthy game you made him play with us.”

“Ex-husband,” she huffs out, nuzzling her cheek against his palm.

I yank her hair hard, forcing her to look up at me, and the robe slips further.His hand drifts to her throat and she smiles, eyes turning hazy.

“What do you think, Casper? Have we got time to play with our toy?”

“We’re snowed in on Christmas Day, my friend. We’ve got nothing but time.”

Saskia’s chest heaves, and Henry tugs at the belt-tie, pulling it free and letting it fall further.

I wish I knew him well enough to read his mind right now.

“Get her on the table,” he says to me, gripping her elbow and hauling her out of her chair.

Fuck yes.

Saskia took charge yesterday. I led the way the night before, but now is Henry’s moment to shine. And I, for one, can’t wait to see what he’s made of.

“No, no, no!” she squeals in protest, but still hopping up to sit on the edge. “You’ll squash my paper chains.”

Henry surprises me by sweeping them to the floor, but then he pauses, picks them up, and waves a string of them in her face.

“How do these work?”

“You loop the strips through each other and close them with a sticky strip.”

“Think we could restrain her with these?” he asks me, a wide grin spread across his face.

Saskia bursts out laughing. “Wow, is that the best you two can come up with?”

“Lie down and put your arms above your head.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Deadly serious, sweetheart. On your back. Now.”

Saskia pulls her robe tight around her again, but it’s useless, and it falls open as soon as she lies back. I watch as Henry fastens a chain around one wrist, then the other, before picking up the strands she’s already made and connecting those too.

“Are you cold?” Henry asks, his face close to hers.

“A little.”

“Your nipples look like they could cut glass.” He flicks one with the tip of his finger and she gasps at the sensation while he turns his attention back to me. “Chain her ankles.”

From the foot of the table, I nudge her legs apart and find the narrow strip between her legs damp, fabric plastered to her pussy.

“You’re soaked, angel. What’s that all about?”

“Can you blame me?” she laughs, wiggling to find a comfortable position while I wrap another paper chain strip around her slender ankle.

I may be an artist, but my medium is paint and my work is expansive, I don’t fuck around with fiddly little things like paper chains.

It takes a little while to fasten them all in place, but soon her wrists and ankles are chained to decorations that trail off the edges and are secured tightly to each table leg.

“This underwear was an excellent choice,” I tell Henry, who joins me at the foot of the table and slaps me on the back.

“Thanks, mate. Appreciate that.”

He acts like I've complimented him on his own attire, dark jeans and a tight fitting top he’s pushed up at the sleeves.

We take a moment to admire our handiwork. Bound to the table, our plaything is exactly where we want her. Saskia is a heavenly vision, her long, silky hair spilling over her shoulders. There’s a reason I’ve always called her my angel.

“What do we do now?” I ask him.

“Now we watch Die Hard.”

“What?” I scoff.

Is this man crazy?

We have the most beautiful woman on earth tied up for our pleasure, and he wants to watching a fucking action film?

“Why?”

“Because it’s a great Christmas movie,” he shrugs.

“It is not a Christmas movie,” Saskia laughs. “And don’t be ridiculous. You need to teach me my lesson. Isn’t that your plan?”

He tuts loudly and delivers a sudden spank between her legs that has both her and me gasping.

“I don’t think you get what you want today.”

He walks over to the sofa, picks up the remote, and props his feet up on the coffee table.

“You can’t leave me here like this!” Saskia yells, her eyes pleading with me.

I'm frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. Normally, I would never leave her tied up somewhere. It's not safe, or responsible, but these are paper chains, for fuck's sake. We all know she's not really restrained right now.

“You can get up whenever you like, angel,” I reassure her.

“She could,” Henry says. “But she won’t. Sit down, Casper.”

Why does everyone in this house keep telling me to sit down?

“What happens if I get up?” she asks, lifting her head to look at him. I follow her gaze across the room, and Henry twists to stare at me, his eyebrows lifting just a fraction. Our agreement may be unspoken, but I know we’re on the same page here. Saskia must pay, and the price is her pleasure.

“If you break those chains, I’ll bend you over and spank you until you’re wearing nothing but my handprint,” I tell her.

Her laughter fills the air, but I see goosebumps prickling on her arms. I’ve had her bent over this very table several times and she’s always thoroughly enjoyed herself.

“Oh, how awful,” she says sarcastically. “I would absolutely hate that.”

“That’s not what I have in mind,” Henry says, remote in hand, his voice filled with menace.

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

“Hang on, I’m just finding somewhere to watch the movie.”

Saskia and I wait with bated breath, her chest rising and falling, while he finds what he’s looking for.

“A-ha!” he says, loading it up, then pressing pause.

He sets the remote down and returns to my side to trace one fingertip slowly from the inside of her thigh, up over the curve of her belly. Saskia writhes and twitches underneath his touch, her body responding everywhere he goes. Up and up, he continues, kicking chairs aside as he stalks his way around the table.

He strokes between her beautiful breasts, sliding up the long slope of her neck and past her chin. When he reaches her lips, she darts her tongue out to catch a taste of his flesh, and he squeezes her face, forcing her to look up at him.

“If you break those chains, I won’t touch you. And I won’t let Casper touch you, either.” I watch the toned muscles of her thighs twitch at his words. “You’ll spend the rest of this trip naked and aching, and we’ll never let you come.”

Watching him tease her like this is hypnotic, and I think perhaps Henry didn’t need my lessons after all.

“You wouldn’t,” she whimpers.

“Try me,” he says.