Which brings me to this moment, the moment I’ve been waiting for since I bought Jane’s ring just after Thanksgiving.
“Of course something’s wrong.” I stand, circling my desk, doing my best to keep my voice even and give nothing away. “It isn’t safe to go outside in weather like this, there’s a damned blizzard on out there.”
Her frown deepens. “It’s over fifty degrees outside. It’s the warmest Christmas Eve day in years.”
“Hardly. Record snowfall is expected before morning.” I cross my arms as I lean back against my desk. “The mayor has closed the subways and the snow is already covering the sidewalks. We’ve got no choice but to stay here tonight. All night. Alone. Together. Snowed in until morning.”
Understanding sparks in her eyes, and a slow smile spreads across her face. “Oh no, how terrible,” she says, playing along as she sashays slowly toward me. “Well, I guess we’re going to miss the party. But I’m sure they’ll understand, what with the horrible weather and all.”
“Horrible, horrible weather,” I echo.
“Should I see if I can find some blankets, or a way to light the fire? Or have you already sorted out how we’re going to stay warm until the storm has passed, Mr. Tennyson?”
“I have a few ideas, Miss Singleton.”
Her smile widens. “I bet you do. You are very accomplished in the art of keeping me warm.”
“Just warm?” I wrap an arm around her waist and cup her ass through her dress. “Not hot?”
“Oh, definitely hot.” Her voice goes soft as she adds, “But are you sure it’s okay to miss the party? Edward won’t be upset?”
“Edward knows we’re not coming. I told him last week.”
She cocks her head, studying me more closely. “So you’ve been planning this for a while. Now I feel terrible that I didn’t organize something more elaborate for our one-year anniversary. I was going to make goat cheese pizza and serve you dinner in my Mrs. Claus apron, but all of that’s at home.”
Home. It never felt like home until she moved in, but now my previously sterile apartment on the Upper East Side feels warm and welcoming, a place I’m eager to get back to at the end of each day.
But not tonight.
Tonight deserves a change of pace, something special just for Jane.
“Mrs. Claus can wait,” I say. “There will be no cooking tonight. Surf and turf from Pierre’s will be delivered at nine o’clock. Until then, I’ve got champagne, fruit, and mochi ice cream in the freezer to fend off hunger pangs.”
“Mochi?” She grips the lapels of my suit coat. “Are those the little scrotum balls I like? The ones we had at the sushi place last week?”
“Yes.” I chuckle as she bounces up and down in excitement. “Though I still don’t understand where the scrotum part came from.”
“Oh, come on, Ten,” she says, eyes glittering with mischief as her arms go around my neck. “When they start to melt and the rice cake on the outside gets wrinkly and soft, but the ice cream is still hard inside—it’s exactly like a scrotum. A small, hairless, tasty, chilly scrotum.”
“That’s disgusting, Jane,” I say affectionately.
“I love you, too,” she says, leaning her head back for a kiss.
But this time I don’t give my beautiful girl what’s she’s asking for. Instead, I rub a hand across her bottom and say, “But despite your less than appetizing description, lunch was a long time ago. I would very much like to share at least half a dozen mochi with you. I just have one email to finish, and then I’m yours for the rest of the night.”
“Perfect.” She kisses my cheek. “I’ll go get our treat and be right back. Though, I do have one question.”
“Yes, my love, I brought you an overnight bag, including pajamas, toiletries, and jeans and a sweater to wear out for Christmas Day breakfast.” I grin at her pleased expression. “One of the best parts about consistency is that I can predict how to please you.”
“I’m pretty sure you just proved that predictable and consistent are the same thing, but I’m so happy to have pajamas for later I don’t care.” She sighs happily and kisses my other cheek before pulling away. “Please arrange to stay perfect for another year, sir.”
“Consider it arranged, love,” I say, chest tight as I watch her cross the room and slip through the door, hoping this will be the last time I see her without my ring on her sweet, sexy, perfectly Jane finger.
Chapter Twelve
Jane
I dance into the break room feeling ten pounds lighter than I did fifteen minutes ago. Ten and I have already been to five holiday parties in the past two weeks. No matter how much I like his friend Edward, the introvert in me was dreading another evening of smiling and making small talk with near-strangers. A night in, spent eating and drinking and playing with Ten before we pass out exhausted and happy on the couch, sounds like heaven.
No matter how chill and relaxed he’s being right now, I know we’re going to play. I know it even before I open the freezer to spy a three-flavor container of mochi sitting on top of the most beautiful wooden paddle I’ve ever seen.
A giddy smile breaks across my face as I shift the ice cream to the side and rescue my surprise from the cold. It’s even more gorgeous up close. It’s shaped like a woman, curved in the middle and swelling out at either side. The wood is smooth and polished within an inch of its life, highlighting the gorgeous swirls in the red-brown surface.
It looks like it’s made from redwood, and for a moment I wonder if it’s a clue to where we’re going on vacation after New Year’s Eve. Ten’s hinted at everything from a redwood and wine country trip to Northern California, to a Hawaiian holiday, to skiing in the Alps, but has refused to tell me exactly where we’re going.
Of course, I don’t care, as long as I’m with him.
I’m about to return to the office to tell him so—and to ask if his hunger for mochi can wait until my hunger for a spanking has been appeased—when I see the key hanging from the leather strap of the paddle. My hand flies to my mouth as a soft squeal of excitement escapes my lips.
My office! It must be the key to my new office, the one attached directly to Ten’s. Now I won’t have to come down the hall every time I need to ask him a question about his schedule or nudge him into moving faster with the website maintenance team so he’s not late for his phone conference with the new Asian office. Thanks to some brilliant repositioning of the staff bathroom and creative remodeling, one door of my new space will lead into the break room and one into Ten’s office. I’ll be able to fetch myself a fresh cup of coffee and be back to my desk in less than ten seconds and I’ll have a private place to wait for Ten at the end of every day. I’m so excited I can’t wait to see it all finished.
I hurry to the back of the break room and slip the key into the locked door. A moment later, I’m stepping into the most perfect little hideaway ever.
My breath catches as I take in the antique desk at the center of the room, the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on the right side, and the window seat big enough to double as a bed, where mounds of pillows and a basket full of knitting supplies are waiting for me. I’m still fighting off a wave of emotion when Ten opens the door on the other side, a hopeful light in his eyes.
“What do you think?” he asks.
“I love it so much!” I hurry around my desk and hurl myself at him, hugging him tight enough to make him grunt. “It’s even better than the drawings! And the knitting basket and the love seat are the best surprises ever!”
He returns my embrace, but there is hesitation in his voice when he asks, “Is that all you like?”
I pull away to look up into his eyes. “Of course not. The bookshelves are beautiful and the desk is so perfect. It’s exactly what I would have wanted if I were any good at decorating things.”
He smiles even as a wrinkle forms between his brows. “You’re not kidding?”
Understanding dawns. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I was so excited about the o
ffice, I completely forgot.” I run a teasing hand down his lapel. “The paddle is also perfect. In fact, I was coming to ask if mochi could wait until we’d taken it out for a spin, but then I was distracted by the key.”
“Where is the paddle?” he asks, looking past me.
“Um, hanging from the lock, I think? Where I left it when I opened the door?”
Ten’s expression goes dead serious, and his gaze moves past me. A second later, he’s pulling away, heading toward the other door, clearly a man on a mission.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, watching him pull the key from the lock and inspect the paddle and leather strap hanging from the handle.
He curses softly, his grip tightening on the wood as he hurries into the other room. I follow, a frown clawing at my forehead as I wonder what on Earth has him so upset. I turn the corner to find his head buried in the freezer and get even more confused. “Ten, is everything okay?”
His shoulders sag, and his breath rushes out. “Yes, everything is fine. For a second I thought our ambitious intern might have ambitiously helped himself to a twenty-thousand dollar engagement ring I was trusting enough to leave in the freezer.” He closes the freezer door and holds up a bit of leather strap with something sparkly dangling from the end of it. “But my faith in humanity is restored for another day. Looks like the strap just broke off in the cold.”
“Engagement ring,” I echo, swallowing hard. “Twenty-thousand dollars? Are you out of your mind?”
His smile falters. “Don’t joke, Jane. Not now.”
“I’m not joking!” I shout, heart beating faster. “I can’t walk the streets of New York wearing a twenty-thousand dollar rock on my finger. I’ll be a nervous wreck that I’ll get mugged. And I know you’re doing well for yourself, Ten, and business is good, but that’s too much money. You should never have spent that much on me. I would be thrilled out of my mind with something a fourth that size. You’re all I care about.”
“I’m worth a couple billion, Jane,” Ten says, looking amused as he crosses the room toward me. “It would have been scandalous to spend any less.”
I frown harder. “Jesus. How did I not know that?”
“Because I don’t live like a billionaire,” he says. “And because you’re delightfully unconcerned with money.”
“I’m not. I’m very concerned. That’s why we should take that back tomorrow and get something smaller. We can put the difference in a college fund or something.”
He arches a brow. “Thinking of going back to school? I’ll pay for it. Happily. You don’t have to start a college fund.”
“No, I meant for the kids.” My throat gets even tighter as he stops in front of me, close enough for me to smell the addictive, compelling, wonderful smell of the man I love. The man who is going to be my husband. “If we’re getting married, you should know I want at least two. Maybe three.”
“As many as you want, as soon as you want them,” he says, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone. “But I can’t speak to whether or not we’re getting married because you haven’t said yes.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” I say, tears rising in my eyes again. “Of course, yes. Yes, and more yes, and the most yes.” I hurl my arms around his neck again. This time, he hugs me as tight as I want him to, his relieved laugh stirring my hair before he pulls away and reaches for my left hand.
“Then let me get this on you,” he says, working the ring free of the strap. “It’s insured, so no more fussing about taking it back. If you’re mugged, then you’ll give them the ring and we’ll get you another. But you won’t be mugged. It won’t happen on my watch.”
I sniff, smiling as the ring slides into place. “A perfect fit.”
“I went through your jewelry,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I didn’t want to wait to have it sized. Do you like?”
“It’s beautiful.” I hold up my hand, blinking fast as I pretend to have trouble looking at it straight on. “Blinding, but beautiful.”
Ten grunts. “You’re the only woman I know who would complain that the ring is too big. What am I going to do with you?”
I bite my lip, still considering my beautiful princess-cut rock as I shake my head. “I don’t know, but I’m hoping it involves teaching me a lesson about being grateful for lovely gifts from generous men who love me.”
His hand slips from my waist to my ass. “And only you would be more excited about a new paddle than an engagement ring.”
I look up at him. “I’m kidding, babe. I am so excited about this stunning ring.”
“Too little, too late, sweetheart,” he says, eyes darkening as he squeezes my bottom tight in his hand. “Now, I want you to head into your new office and bend over with your hands on the love seat. I’m going to spank some manners into your fine ass.”
My breath shudders out, my panties already damp with anticipation. But before we celebrate our engagement with a Christmas Eve spanking, I have one very important thing to say. “I love you, Mr. Tennyson. And I truly can’t wait to be your wife. You are…everything to me. The sun, the moon, and all the stars.”
He lips curve and his gaze softens. “Ditto, sweetness. Now get into the office and pull your skirt up and your panties down. If I have to carry you in there, things are only going to be worse for you.”
“Or better,” I say softly, giggling as his eyes grow stormy. “I’m going, sir. I’m going.” But it’s too late. Before I can back away, he’s tossed me over his shoulder and carried me into the office.
Moments later, I’m bent over by the window, having my panties ripped down my legs and my skirt shoved up around my hips, and Ten is biting my ass and fucking me with his fingers, turning up the heat before he turns on the pain, and I am in heaven.
This is all I’ll ever need—Ten, and time to show him how much he means to me. And if I’m really lucky, maybe this is the way we’ll spend every Christmas, with my name on the naughty list and a spanking delivered by the man I love.
Soon, my pussy is wet and aching and Ten starts in with the paddle, soft and gentle at first and then harder, harder, until my bottom is on fire. He spanks me until I’m moaning in pain, in pleasure, in hunger for more than the paddle. I crave his touch, his mouth, his tongue, his cock spearing into me, giving me that connection to him that I crave above all else.
He makes me wait, ramping up the torment until tears are streaming down my face and heat is slipping down my thighs. Only then does he drop the paddle, open his fly, and drive into me from behind.
I cry out in relief, arching back, pressing myself closer to him, taking him deep. I’m so close that by the third time Ten drives into me I spiral into the ether. I come with his name on my lips and his hands digging into my swollen ass, and I am complete, whole, safe, loved, and so happy I can’t imagine life getting any better.
Though maybe I can, just a little…
“Next time with no condom?” I ask after we’ve finished and I’m sitting in Ten’s lap, staring out at the sparkling city lights.
“As long as you promise to marry me while we’re in Tahiti. On the beach. At sunset. With flowers in your hair.”
“Done.” I snuggle closer to his chest. “As long as you promise we’ll always find time to play, no matter how many rugrats we have.”
“Why do you think I had this office built? Did I mention that the walls are soundproof?”
I laugh softly. “No, you didn’t.”
“Hmmm, and I guess I didn’t mention the restraint system in the secret panel behind the bookshelves, either.”
My head pops up so fast I almost fall off his lap. “You’re kidding me.”
He grins wickedly. “I never joke about tying you up, Jane. You should know that by now.”
My chest fills with a surge of warmth as I cup his face in my hands. “Will you show me? Please?”
“Not until you’ve had ice cream, water, and some time to catch your breath,” he says. “Taking care of you comes first.”
&
nbsp; And it does, which is another reason why my love is the very best. “Sometimes you still don’t seem real,” I say, brushing my thumb across his bottom lip. “Sometimes, when I wake up and see you there next to me, I still have to pinch myself.”
“Tell me next time that happens,” he says, kissing my fingers, “and I’ll do the pinching for you.”
I smile. “Carry me to the freezer for ice cream?”
“Anytime, beautiful.”
Ten carries me to the freezer and we eat ice cream and talk about our vacation, our wedding, and all the other dreams we’re going to make come true. And the rest of the night is sweet, wicked, wild, and perfect, our second Christmas Eve together even more beautiful than the first.
The End
Masquerade with the Master
A Master Me Novella
By Lili Valente
Chapter One
Dear Ivy,
Are you sitting down? If you’re not, I advise that you do so.
Put your feet up and get comfortable, doll. This isn’t the kind of letter you want to read standing up. Yes, I’m serious. Find a seat for that fine ass of yours and take it.
Now.
There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
Maybe you even liked it. At least a little. Maybe you’re intrigued. Eager to learn who has the balls to write a savvy corporate woman like you a letter like this.
I have the balls because I know you, princess. You like a man who isn’t afraid to take control. You always have, even back when you were so naïve that I’m pretty sure you had no idea what I meant when I said I needed to win a woman’s submission.
But you got on your knees anyway and asked me to take you to the ball.
A Down and Dirty Christmas: Spend Christmas on the Naughty List Page 14
