away, pointing to the hallway. “Go pick out what you want to play with. Meet me in front of the Christmas tree.”
And I knew exactly what I wanted to play with. I knew that the time was right.
When I came back into the living room, I found Beck taking his shirt off while standing in front of the tree. He’d turned all the lights off except for the ones on the tree, and it cast a warm glow across his beautiful body. My mouth went instantly dry and I walked toward him almost in a trance.
When I was no more than two feet from him, I held my hand out and said, “Here. I want to play with this toy.”
His gaze dropped to my open palm and his eyebrows raised as he stared at the small glass butt plug and small bottle of lube I was holding. It had been in his bag of toys he’d unceremoniously dumped on the bed beside me a few weeks ago and told me to choose. Back then, I would have never chosen the plug, because when you’ve experienced the pain and degradation of anal rape, it becomes forbidden territory.
But last night . . . I wasn’t scared. Or apprehensive. Or even remotely uneasy about the prospect. Instead, I had an overwhelming need to let Beck take possession of a part of my body that never really belonged to me. It belonged to one of my unknown rapist, and I realized that it was the only part of me left that was still metaphorically unhealed since I met Beck.
He, of course, wasn’t as keen on the idea.
He reacted badly, actually. Backed away from me and shook his head. “No, Sela.”
“Yes,” I insisted. “I want you to.”
He opened his mouth to protest. I know it was because he was afraid of hurting me or maybe dredging up terrible memories, but I merely stepped up to him, pushed the objects into his hand, and said, “I trust you.”
Beck’s face crumbled and his eyes softened, and he took the items from me. He then gave me the most gentle kiss I’ve ever experienced, and then he proceeded to show me how caring a man can be to a woman.
Thinking about what he did to me . . . my body.
The intense orgasm he wrung out of me while showing me just how pleasing that kind of play can be to a woman.
Beck North claimed that last part of my body as his own with soft words, gentle touches, and a little glass toy that felt as unbelievably good as it felt naughty.
“Want your Christmas present?” he asks as he rubs his stubbled chin over my shoulder, producing a full body shiver.
Hmmmm . . . just thinking about last night. “If it involves you fucking me right now, in this position, then yes . . . I want it very much.”
I feel the rumble of laughter in Beck’s chest, even as I feel him start to get hard behind me. “That was not the present I was talking about, but I think I can oblige.”
And then he does.
His hand slides down from my stomach, right between my legs, where his magical fingers find me wet. They work skillfully, causing my hips to grind back against him, always seeking more with this man.
Knowing he’ll give me exactly what I need.
Then he’s pushing my outer leg up, sliding his own body down just a bit, and angling his cock to slip into me from behind. I moan in pure bliss as he fills me up, body and soul.
Beck fucks me slowly as he’s spooned around me, the arm that my head is resting on coming up to curve across my chest and hold me tightly. His other hand gripping the back of my thigh firmly to pin me in place. I’m restrained by his strength and the feelings he’s causing within me, content to let him leisurely make Christmas morning love to me that is oh so different from the kinky shit we did last night.
He takes me higher and higher, whispering sweet words in my ear, until I fall apart in his arms. He splinters at the same time, groaning deeply his appreciation of the moment that we share.
When the last tremors of our twin orgasms fade, and he drops my leg back down into place, he hugs me tightly, and I have never felt more complete and secure as I do now. Not because of what we just