“My, my!” he exclaimed at a whisper, one eyebrow raised. “You are very wet, princess. What are we going to do with you, little girl?”
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as he slid one finger under the fabric covering her most intimate parts, and traced his finger upwards, to flick at her clit. She closed her eyes and fought against the moan building at the base of her throat. Damn. What was he doing to her? Here, in public?
His finger delved inside her, deeper, up to the knuckle, while the rest of his hand stayed on the outside of her underwear, pushing aside the fabric now drenched with her juices, and slowly turned his wrist. She was going to explode. She could feel it … lightning sparked within her, sending bolts of electricity to her core, his thumb against her clit now, teasing gently, his strong fingers tormenting her, driving her wild with desire.
She felt him grasp the gusset of her underwear in his fist and tug; the elastic tightened around her hips, digging into her.
“Lift your butt.” The order was whispered, but it was definitely an order. One she dared not disobey.
As discreetly as she could, she leaned backwards in the chair, lifting her hips up, her calf muscles screaming at her, being so tested after spending so long in high heels, and she felt Clay’s hand against her thigh as he tugged her knickers roughly down by the crotch. Her knickers at mid-thigh now, she lowered herself gently back into her chair, gasping at the sensation of the roughish dress material against her bare bottom. So scandalous! So naughty! Clay winked; she felt her face flush. She froze as he drew her knickers slowly down her legs, his eyes never once leaving hers.
“Lift your left foot.” Again, that whispered command, but a command so full of authority that she dared not disobey.
Still holding her gaze, fire burning brightly in his eyes, Clay leaned down low across the table, his fingers tugging the fabric of her underwear down her legs, over her ankle, then slipped it off over her raised foot. It caught on the heel of her shoe; a brief frown flitted across his face before she felt his fumbling fingers unhook the garment and clench it tightly in his fist again.
Hi there! Thanks for stopping by my blog. I hope you enjoyed that excerpt from Kelly Dawson’s story “A Naughty Little Christmas,” which is part of the Mischief Under the Mistletoe anthology. Get this wonderful collection of kinky holiday stories from multiple authors for only $0.99 for a limited time! Don’t delay. The price will go up to $6.99 in mid-December.
About A Naughty Little Christmas
Bianca has hated Christmas ever since her beloved sister died. It holds too many memories, and each memory brings with it a new wave of pain. So when Clay agrees to be Santa if she will be the naughty elf, she agrees, happy for the distraction. But just how naughty can Santa’s elf be before she ends up over Santa’s knee?
Buy it on AMAZON.
Kelly Dawson loves anything to do with horses, rodeos and cowboys, and loves to get lost in a good book – preferably one containing spanking!
A life-long closet-spanko, Kelly started writing spanking stories on every spare scrap of paper in the house as a child. So when she discovered the internet and spanking romance along with it, she was most excited. But it took her a good decade of devouring these stories before she got up the courage to submit her own. And now, here she is, 8 books later, with a plethora of ideas still to write!
She lives literally at the bottom of the world in the South Island of New Zealand, with her husband, four kids, a dog and a cat.