Mistletoe’s Kiss

18.

D ear Maddy, I was buying a special edition of your last book yesterday and the bookseller at the checkout asked if it was for my girlfriend, I replied that it was for me, that I’m one of your biggest fans. Looking a little surprised at first he then proceeded to tell me about the huge promotional tour you have coming up. Back-to-back signings for a few months and then the guest of honour spot at the ‘Babes into Books Ball’ in March.

I’ve seen photos of you at signings and book launches, you’re always smiling but it doesn’t reach your eyes and I get the impression that you’d much rather be at home in a comfy pair of pyjamas than being forced to talk to people. Do you get nervous when you have to talk about your books? Is it when you have to explain the complexities of a plot? Or, is it knowing that most of the people you meet who’ve read your novels get themselves off reading your words? How many thousands of women get wet, dripping when they read about your character’s expert tongue, and his skills in the bedroom?

Would you feel better if you had someone at the Ball holding your hand? I could be that someone. I could be your dark prince, watching you from across the ballroom, hiding my sharp edges behind a velvet mask. You’d glance at me from behind a mask made of flames and I’d happily burn as long as you keep looking at me.

Watching you dance your way around the room with partner after partner has me gritting my teeth, teetering on the edge of violence. Men put their hands around your waist, pulling you close, whispering how much they admire you. Why do you let them touch what belongs to me? I want to be the one you cling to as we waltz and spin. I want to caress you and tell you that you’re perfect, I want… I just want.”

But I’m a Dark Prince, I’m not gentle, I’m made of shadows and fuelled by jealousy and rage. I stalk the edges of the room until you leave to freshen up. Following on near silent footsteps I reach out and roughly pull you into a nearby alcove. One hand on your wrist the other over your mouth, smothering the little squeal you let out. It’s dimly lit in here and I manoeuvre us behind a pillar for privacy.

“Hello Babydoll, are you enjoying yourself tonight? Looks like you’ve been very popular, dancing with all those men, letting them touch you. Did they whisper dirty things in your ears while they spun you around?”

Shivering you try to escape my grip, your dress rustling as you struggle. “You’ve been a bad girl, you’ve riled me up and pushed me too far. Do you want to be punished, Sweetheart? I think you need to be punished and then you can show me just how sorry you are…”

All I can hear are muffled sounds from behind my hand. The leather glove I’m wearing looks so good against your soft skin.

“If I take my hand away you have to be quiet, just nod your head, if you speak, your punishment will only be worse.”

I slowly remove my hand when you eagerly nod. Your cheeks are pink and your lips look swollen where you’ve pushed against my glove to get away. What a pretty fucking picture you make.

“Remember, no talking, no noise or someone might hear you…maybe someone from your publisher or a buyer you’re trying to impress, or even one of the fans fawning over you earlier.” I tut and shake my head, “What would they say if they followed the sounds in here and saw what a filthy girl you are? I don’t mind an audience, in fact, I think I’d enjoy showing everyone in that ballroom who you belong to…”

I get on my knees and slowly hike the swathes of fabric up your thighs until I can see the almost chaste panties you’re wearing. I lean in and breathe against your core, rewarded with a tremble and the appearance of a wet patch. “Oh Sweetness, that right there almost gets you out of trouble, you’re just so fucking responsive.” Inching your panties down your legs I look up into your face. Your eyes keep darting from me to the alcove opening and back again, nervous terror and excitement run through you at the thought of being caught with my tongue in your pussy. But that’s okay, that’s half the fun.

Grabbing your ass, as much as I can through the heavy dress you’re wearing, I pull you towards my face, the soft velvet of my mask rubs against your clit and you try to stifle a cry when I shove my tongue inside you…that just won’t do. Backing away slightly I reach for your face, pushing two of my leather-clad fingers into your mouth, “if you can’t keep your mouth shut you’ll just have to suck…it’ll be good practice for what’s coming next.” You moan quietly and welcome the intrusion, sucking and licking at my fingers as if imagining they’re something else.

I eat your pussy until you’re writhing and sweating, tears leaking from those pretty eyes. You’re fluttering around my tongue and I know you’re about to come so I pull back. Standing up, I’m more than happy at the sounds of disappointment and frustration muffled by the fingers you’ve been sucking.

“Now now, baby, didn’t I say you were going to be punished? Only good girls get to come.”

I slide my fingers from your mouth and the spit that follows and drips onto your heaving tits almost has me cuming in my pants.

“This is where you have to make it up to me doll, show me that you want your dark prince.”

Hands on your shoulders I push down until you drop you to your knees. “Take out my cock, gently, that’s it…” I can’t help the shiver that rolls down my spine as you obey. I’m so hard that a single stoke has me leaking already and I grunt when you take me between those pouting lips. You look up at me as you lave your tongue over the tip, swirling in little circles.

“Ready to show me, baby? How much can you take?”

I groan loudly as you take me almost to the hilt. Panicking, you look towards the entrance, but when no one enters you breathe out slowly through your nose and begin to bob up and down in earnest. Your little hands clutch at my ass as I push roughly to the back of your throat but you don’t protest, you’re apologising after all.

Feeling that I’m close, I grab all that beautiful coiffed hair and use it to move you up and down my cock, just the way I want. You’re such a mess, the pins from your updo are all over the floor, your mascara is smudged from frustrated tears and your lipstick is smeared all over your face. You’re totally wrecked, like a filthy little princess who’s been well used, kneeling on the floor before her prince. I come with a shout at the thought of just how much I’ve ruined you tonight.

“Swallow baby,” I moan, wiping away a drop of my cum from the side of your mouth. “I’ll forgive you, just as long as you remember that I’m your number one fan…not them, me.”