𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 . 𐙚 ˙ ⋆ . ˚ ʳᵉᵛᵉʳⁱᵉ & ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ❪ ⁿ ˢ ᶠ ʷ ❫

[reverie.]

   
 

𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝐼 𝑊𝐴𝑁𝑇 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝐶𝐻𝑅𝐼𝑆𝑇𝑀𝐴𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑌𝑂𝑈
 ᴀ  ꜱ ᴇ ᴀ ꜱ ᴏ ɴ ᴀ ʟ  ʀ ᴏ ʟ ᴇ ᴘ ʟ ᴀ ʏ  ʙ ʏ  ʀ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴇ .  ᴀ ɴ ᴅ  ꜰ ᴀ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ʀ  ꜰ ɪ ɢ ᴜ ʀ ᴇ 
 ​

@Father Figure

 

[reverie.]

daisy williams. ɪ  ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ  ʀ ᴜ ʟ ᴇ ꜱ  ʙ ᴇ ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ᴇ  ɪ  ʙ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ Daisy had not been thrilled when she found out she had to spend Christmas with her mom this year. She'd complained to her friends about it for months. Her mom left them for a millionaire when she was thirteen only to come crawling back into her life when she turned sixteen. By that time she was married to a new guy. She even gave Daisy a fucking car—one Daisy gladly accepted. But she never forgave her mom for leaving. That didn't keep Daisy from trying to reconnect with her though, but it wasn't easy. Her mom bounced from one rich guy to the next, and eventually, Daisy stopped bothering to get to know them. What was the point? It wasn't like they were going to stick around anyway. Either they left because they realized her mom was only after their money, or her mom left them because she found someone she thought had more money. Elliot Winters was no different—or so she thought. The young brunette had predicted a boring Christmas holiday, but that was before she met her mom's new boyfriend. Elliot was definitely rich—the big ass house he owned told her as much. And if she were to guess, he was younger than the last guy her mom dated, but that guy had been too old even for her mom. But what surprised her the most was that Elliot was more handsome than all of her mom's past boyfriends combined. Daisy decided that the only thing she wanted for Christmas this year was Elliot’s attention. She told herself it was only to sabotage her mom's relationship but deep down she knew that wasn't the case—she wanted him to notice her. Some mild flirting couldn't possibly hurt anybody. Besides, Elliot seemed way out of her mom's league, so she was only doing them a favor. But getting his attention turned out to be far more difficult than she'd imagined. Perhaps he was more invested in the relationship with her mom than she'd first anticipated. Whatever the case, Daisy was determined to make her wish come true. She just didn't think it would be impossible. The more he ignored her efforts, the harder she tried. Daisy showed up to breakfast in silk gowns, roamed the hallways in shorts that barely covered her ass, went clubbing in dresses that barely left anything to the imagination, and during dinner time, she made sure to make it clear that her breasts were so much firmer than her mom's. Nothing seemed to faze him and Daisy was on the verge of giving up when she caught him alone in the kitchen two days before Christmas. She leaned against the doorframe, wearing nothing but a blue nightgown she shouldn't wear anywhere near her potential future stepdad. "Where's mom?"​

 

[Father Figure]

elliot winters ɪ ' ʟ ʟ  ᴅ ᴏ  ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ ꜱ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ' ʟ ʟ  ɴ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ  ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ɢ ᴇ ᴛ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ Elliot looked up from the glass of whiskey he was nursing, the amber liquid catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights. His eyes didn't waver as they rested on Daisy's, reading the undercurrent of her expression. Curiosity, mischief, something unspoken. It was not the first time he had noticed the way she lingered in doorways when he was around, her questions teetering on the edge of probing and playful. Not to mention the decidedly purposeful choice in clothing. Either you were too naïve to know that you were walking around showing off your assets, or you were doing it because you wanted to show them off. Considering the way she had been acting around him it was not hard for the older man to know on which side of the line Daisy was falling. And Elliot had avoided her, there was little doubt of that as well. She was not his first rodeo when it came to young women admiring him, and sometimes he had dipped his toe into the pond to find out what he was missing, but more often than not he kept his cool and did not allow himself to get caught up in the drama that a woman of her age could bring into his life. There was a remarkable strength in a man who was not so easily led about by his prick, though it always came with a slight difficulty. It made them ever more attractive. "She's upstairs, wrapping gifts," he said, his voice low and unhurried, a rich tone reminiscent of the faint crackle of a fire on a quiet night and warm butter schnapps. He took a small sip his drink, savoring the burn, before setting the glass down. "Thought I'd get out of her way for a bit. Holiday chaos, you know how it is." His smile was brief, polite, but it did not reach his eyes. The kitchen was warm, but the tension between them had the brittle chill of frost. She was no innocent, and he knew the game she was trying to play, but he wouldn't be a pawn in it. Not now, not ever. This time though he did not excuse himself from her presence, though he could not quite put his finger on the why he chose not to do so. The truth loomed heavy in the back of his mind as he considered what would happen if her mother ever caught a whiff of impropriety between the two of them. It could certainly shatter what relationship he had built with her, and in today's day and age it might ruin his reputation on social media. Men were not so easily given the pass to act like the dogs that most knew that they were. Was he serious about Daisy's mother, Natalie, or was she just another fleeting chapter in his life? He cared about her, otherwise she would not be visiting over the holidays. But what was he supposed to do? Confront Daisy directly and risk making matters worse? Continue to pretend not to notice and hoping she would lose interest? Either way, the stakes felt impossibly high, and the holidays were quickly becoming a minefield. Not to mention she did look damned good standing there in her nightgown. "Do you need something?" he asked, though he already suspected the answer.​

 

[reverie.]

daisy williams. ɪ  ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ  ʀ ᴜ ʟ ᴇ ꜱ  ʙ ᴇ ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ᴇ  ɪ  ʙ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ Daisy didn’t move as she let her eyes linger on him, making it obvious that she was checking him out—it wouldn't be the first time. She’d already seen what was to see as far as fully dressed went. He had yet to match her efforts, walking around in nothing but his boxers or a towel around his waist. So far, he’d done no such thing. Daisy was left to her own devices and could only imagine what was hidden underneath the layers of clothes. Whatever it was, she had a feeling she might like it. She couldn’t help but wonder if he liked what he saw; she had shown him quite a lot already. God knew she shouldn’t. But Daisy wanted to play with fire, and with her mom out of the way she could easily light a match or two—or three, or four. "I don’t need anything," she said, her tone playful yet a bit harsh. At least it wasn’t a lie. "But I am a little thirsty." She walked over to the tall cabinets to the right, where she knew the cups and glasses were stored. She opened the cabinet and reached up to grab one on the top shelf instead of taking one of the glasses right in front of her. If it weren't for the fact that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the glasses on the bottom shelf, she might have gotten away with her little stunt. But the only reason Daisy wanted one on the top was so she could stand on her tip-toes, her arm overhead so her gown would slide up and reveal a rather firm—and naked—butt. The thong she was wearing wasn't visible under the fabric, so for all he knew she might not wear any at all. Perhaps that had been her intention. He hadn't seemed to pay much attention to it when it stuck out of her pajama shorts, but perhaps he'd notice it now. Even if he didn't, that blue gown looked magnificent. She'd bought it after she'd arrived, for this sole purpose—to get his attention. With one arm overhead and the other palm-down on the counter, she twisted her head around to smile at him. "I am allowed to grab some juice, am I not?" And with that, she grabbed a glass and turned around to face him. "Or are you afraid I'll empty the bottle so we don't have any left for breakfast tomorrow?" Pretending like she hadn't just flashed half her ass in his face, she moved to the fridge only to open the door and her mouth at the same time. "And I thought she was done wrapping gifts?" The Christmas tree in the living room already had presents under it, and it wasn't like her mom had a lot of people to give gifts to. Daisy peeked over her shoulder with a playful smirk on her lips. "You didn't get me another, did you?" They both knew he hadn't; and neither had her mom. Elliot Winters didn't know her well enough to waste his money on her, and her mom had probably already persuaded him into buying her something expensive. She grabbed the juice bottle with her free hand and closed the fridge with her elbow. Putting the glass on the counter in front of her, she unscrewed the cap of the bottle. "You want some?" she asked him, raising the bottle even though her tone indicated that she offered him something else entirely. At this point, she was almost convinced he would never lay a hand on her, so now she was just curious to see if she could draw a reaction out of him. It didn't matter if it was the tiniest hint of annoyance or a flash of lust in his eyes—she just wanted something. The brunette watched him carefully, still holding the juice bottle mid-air.​

 

[Father Figure]

elliot winters ɪ ' ʟ ʟ  ᴅ ᴏ  ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ ꜱ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ' ʟ ʟ  ɴ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ  ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ɢ ᴇ ᴛ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ Ignoring her was not working. Elliot turned his gaze away as the young woman began rummaging around in the kitchen, his focus narrowed on the amber swirl of whiskey in his glass, idly rotating it in his hand. The clink of ice against the crystal gave him something to fixate on other than the faint rustling of movement behind him. He could feel Daisy’s presence though, an unwelcome heat at the edge of his awareness. Her footsteps echoed softly on the kitchen tiles as she padded over to get a glass, and from the corner of his eye he caught the faintest flicker of motion. Enough to draw his gaze to watch her reach up to take one of the glasses from the top shelf. At first, he refused to acknowledge it. She was testing him, trying to draw his attention with the demeanor of a woman who thought he was hers to control, if she could just get her claws into him. Elliot’s jaw tightened as his neck turned just enough so that he could watch her from the periphery of one eye. If there was one thing worth acknowledging it was the incredible curves of Daisy’s backside, but this was getting a bit too far and she was dangerous in a way that he was certain she did not recognize. Women like her never understood the kind of tragedy they could bring into a man’s life if he let them. So why had he not left the room yet? Her tone was jaunty, playful, and she was busy playing with fire. It was the kind of behavior that was going to get them both burned. But why did Elliot pause in his quandary to tilt his head to make sure he did not hear anyone coming down the stairs? Why would he not just excuse himself to go back up to spend quality holiday time with his girlfriend, this woman’s mother? Because some part of him wanted to stay, and he could have tried to play it off, but considering the rising interest elsewhere on his body he knew exactly which part of him was involved. There was a calculated edge to her actions, a persistence to dismiss them as harmless. If he were a weaker man, he would have felt trapped by it, increasingly unsure how to escape. That was just not his style though, confrontation was how he functioned best. It could make the situation worse; he knew that. It could backfire, embolden her, or set off a chain reaction that ended this weekend prematurely. He needed a solution, the real problem was as he met her gaze, was that he was not sure whether he intended to defuse it or push it to its inevitable conclusion. His hand reached out and he grabbed her wrist, hard, his fingers digging in. His voice holding a steely edge to it, those eyes as cold as the winter outside. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing, Daisy?” His other hand set his glass down with a sharp clink, the sound cutting through the kitchen like a warning shot. His patience, worn thin, snapping beneath the weight of her antics. Straightening, he came around the counter, his expression a stark shift from the polite indifference he maintained. His jaw was set, his eyes unyielding. “I’ve had enough,” he said, his voice low but edged with unmistakable anger. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but it stops now.” He invaded her personal space, his voice staying low. Another sign he did not want to be caught in whatever act they were about to commit. Whatever line they were about to cross. “I’m not dumb, Daisy, You’ve been pushing all weekend, and I’ve let it slide. But this isn’t a joke, and I’m not someone you can toy with. You just need, what? What will get you to get over this infatuation? A quick fuck all you need so you won’t sabotage our vacation?” His words were curious ones, giving no inclination as to if he was being derisive of the young woman, or if he was offering to sate her thirst.​

 

[reverie.]

daisy williams. ɪ  ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ  ʀ ᴜ ʟ ᴇ ꜱ  ʙ ᴇ ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ᴇ  ɪ  ʙ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ What was she doing? Certainly not something she was supposed to do. Her gaze landed on the fingers he wrapped around her wrist before she met his cold gaze. She looked unfazed by his touch, but every cell in her body was on high alert. Daisy had not expected him to touch her in any fashion while she was there. She figured that if he was going to, he'd have done it by now. One of the reasons she'd pushed it this far was because she'd assumed he'd never act on whatever urges he might have—if he had any. Living in a fantasy that she was safe from his touch, she could do whatever she pleased without facing any real consequences. How wrong she'd been. No part of her was prepared to face him. His grip didn't exactly hurt—or maybe it did, she just refused to admit it—but his message was clear. He'd had enough indeed. Perhaps she'd gone too far this time. But could he blame her? It wasn't like he'd paid much attention to her previous efforts. At least it was safe to say that the nightgown had been a success—she had bought it for him, after all. And the lace thong she was wearing underneath wasn't exactly a coincidence either, despite the risk of him never seeing it. Daisy could see the anger radiating from his body, and a part of her was worried he'd hurt her—more than he already was—but then there was this part of her that was excited. He'd closed the distance between them; if he wanted he could touch her anywhere. And perhaps a part of her wanted him to. Not that she was going to admit that to his face anytime soon. Instead, the brunette tilted her head slightly to the side, smirking innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about." She didn't even try to conceal the lie. Daisy knew exactly what game she was playing, and so did he. It was a dangerous game—one neither could win if they played their cards right. "Are you sure?" she interrupted teasingly after his 'I'm not dumb, Daisy'. But she swallowed hard right after. She knew he was no fool. And if what he said was true, he had noticed her efforts, which meant she had been more successful than she'd thought. She was still clutching the juice bottle, and after his next words, she had to concentrate not to drop it. Her eyes widened slightly—in shock? Daisy didn't know what she had expected him to say, but it wasn't that. If she wasn't mistaken, he was offering himself on a silver platter. She blinked at him, unable to hide the shock on her pretty face. Who was joking now? Did she want a quick fuck? At this point, she didn't know what she wanted. She had wanted his attention all week, and now that she'd finally gotten it, Daisy didn't know what to do with it. What exactly was he offering? Perhaps it was a test—one she was about to fail. Was he offering to fuck her, or was he simply trying to make her mad enough so she'd leave? Leaving was probably the smarter choice. The right choice too. Nothing could go wrong if she left the kitchen right now. But Daisy didn't leave; her body wouldn't let her. A small voice in her head—or perhaps it was the tingling in her core—told her to stay. If she could choose, she'd probably choose the quick fuck, but she wanted to know if he'd choose the same thing. Was his offer even real? He might have offered to fuck her, but did he want to fuck her? Her pulse was fluctuating as she leaned towards him. Tilting her head slightly back, she got a better look at him as she put the bottle down on the counter, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes were glowing with devious intent. "I don't know, Elliot—" she taunted, keeping her voice low to match his. Another smirk played in the corner of her lips as her free hand found the front of his pants, her palm pressing against what she could only assume was a growing erection. "Can you even make it quick?" It might have been an insult, but Daisy was merely pushing his buttons—all of them. Surely, he wasn't reckless enough to fuck her right there in the kitchen. . . was he? If she hadn't been playing with fire before, she sure as hell was now.​

 

[Father Figure]

elliot winters ɪ ' ʟ ʟ  ᴅ ᴏ  ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ ꜱ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ' ʟ ʟ  ɴ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ  ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ɢ ᴇ ᴛ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ The girl was playing with fire and they both knew that this was the wrong decision, the completely wrong choice. His patience, already worn thin throughout the weekend, finally snapped beneath the weight of the young woman’s antics. The way he looked at her was such a stark shift from the polite indifference he had maintained. His jaw was tight, teeth clenching together, but the real moment of uncertainty occurred when Daisy met his eyes. Those eyes, beautiful really when one got this close, were dark and unyielding. Frightening in mingled anger, underscored with a tinge of arousal. It was as if they could feel the coming actions already on the horizon, and they were not turning away from it. The hand on Daisy’s arm was firm, relentless, like iron clamping down. He was not hurting her, he was too controlled for that, but the strength in his hold left no room for argument. Elliot could do whatever the hell he wanted if he chose. His knuckles whitened as he dug in, his voice clipped, and the words cut through the air even if they were hissed. “This stops,” he said, his voice lowering with each syllable. “Do you understand me? This needs to…” “Elliot?” Natalie’s voice floated down from upstairs, cutting through the tension like a crack in the ice. He froze, the moment suspended in a taut, electric stillness. “Did you remember to bring up the gift bags for Daisy’s presents? I thought I saw them in the car earlier!” His chest heaved with a frustrated exhale as his grip loosened, fingers reluctantly releasing her arm. For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked on Daisy’s, unflinching. The message was still clear in the heavy silence between them: this conversation isn’t over. “I got them,” he called back, his voice masking perfectly, concealing the dangerous liaison that was on the brink of taking place. He took a step back, rolling his shoulders as though trying to shake off the weight of the confrontation. And as he stepped back from the counter Daisy could see with absolute ease how incredibly erect Elliot was. There weas no potential chance of hiding that massive tool he was carrying beneath his clothing. “They’re under the tree.” And while his voice might have hidden what was going on downstairs, there was a hunger filtering its way up into his face as he stood there, just a few feet away from Daisy. His eyes flicked towards the open kitchen entryway and the nearby stairs just around the corner. For a second Daisy could see the indecision in his eyes, as he struggled to determine if he would just walk right out of the room. But the decision quickly came as he reached into his pants and pulled himself free right out in the open, beginning to slowly stroke himself right in front of the young woman. It was risky, but nothing that could not be hidden if Natalie decided to come downstairs. “Oh, good!” Natalie replied, her tone cheery, unaware of the problems brewing in the house. “I was worried we’d forget. Thanks, sweetheart!” For a moment silence, but then the steps could be heard walking away, the older woman roaming off to continue her holiday bliss. Leaving the two of them downstairs, staring at each other, Elliot stroking himself lewdly with Daisy as his only audience. And then Elliot raised an eyebrow. It was a simple motion, but it came weighted with a depth of nuance that was shocking. He was accepting her offer, he was willing to fuck her, and he was waiting for her. Waiting for her to make the decision to walk out of the room, preserving whatever self-respect they both had for themselves, or for her to put her cute ass up on a bar stool so that he could rail her over the counter. One way or the other, she had her answer.​

 

[reverie.]

daisy williams. ɪ  ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ  ʀ ᴜ ʟ ᴇ ꜱ  ʙ ᴇ ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ᴇ  ɪ  ʙ ʀ ᴇ ᴀ ᴋ  ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ Elliot did not look happy; he looked furious. But Daisy had a feeling that it wasn't all her fault. Yes, she'd tested his patience—to the breaking point—but he was the one with a hard cock. He was the one who had offered to fuck her. If that wasn't a real desire of his, he would have never brought it up. Daisy wasn't going to lie though, she had fantasized about fucking him. Or at least fantasized about what it would be like. He had to be more experienced than the other guys she'd been with, and from what she'd felt, he was a lot bigger too—his growing erection had filled her entire palm. When her mom's voice filled the air, Daisy froze. This was not happening. Fear was written all over her face, her pulse skyrocketing. Daisy's eyes never left Elliot's as he answered her mom's questions. Daisy didn't move as he took a step back, revealing the bulge she'd just cupped in her hand. There was no mistaking it now; he was hard. Her eyes darted from him to the kitchen opening and to the staircase she knew was hidden behind it. If her mom decided to come downstairs, Daisy didn't know what would happen. Surely, she'd get away with being thirsty—the juice bottle was still right there. While Daisy was still worried about her mom sticking her head into the kitchen, Elliot did not seem to share her concern. He had already pulled out his massive cock and was now stroking it right in front of her. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would actually see it. And the bastard didn't seem bothered by it. Daisy, on the other hand, was enthralled by it. She was trying to figure out whether or not he would even fit inside of her. He would definitely stretch her more than any other man had ever done. Not that the list was that long, she'd only had sex with three other men—boys, really. Daisy could hear her mom's footsteps disappearing upstairs again, but that didn't make her think straight. She met Elliot's gaze, her face flushed. How long had she stared at him stroking himself? How long had he watched her? When he raised an eyebrow, she knew the hidden meaning behind it. It was not only an offer but a fucking dare. Daisy swallowed hard. It was too late to back away now. She should have thought this through. She'd tried so hard to get his attention and now that she'd first gotten it, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. What did he want her to do? He obviously wanted to fuck her, but where? Or perhaps more importantly—how? Did he expect her to walk away? Was his goal to intimidate her enough to leave? She couldn't help but wonder if this had turned into a game. Was it a competition? If she left the kitchen right now—would she win or would she lose? It didn't really matter, because Daisy wasn't leaving. Perhaps it was to prove to him that she wasn't scared—but she was. Or maybe it was because a part of her wanted to be fucked. Praying that the fear didn't reflect in her eyes, she said nothing as she pulled her thong down her thighs until the fabric fell to the floor. She said nothing as she left it there, just holding his gaze as she stepped out of it and towards him—a silent invitation and a dare—fuck me, then.​

 

[Father Figure]

elliot winters ɪ ' ʟ ʟ  ᴅ ᴏ  ᴛ ʜ ɪ ɴ ɢ ꜱ  ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ' ʟ ʟ  ɴ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ  ꜰ ᴏ ʀ ɢ ᴇ ᴛ .​ ⊹  ₊  ✦  ₊  ⊹​ The young woman was throwing down the gauntlet, daring Elliot to act. Little did she know that she would be quite unprepared for what was to come. Everything the older man began with would be considered the stuff of a young lady’s dreams. He approached her, quiet and calm, his hand coming up to take hold of her chin with a domineering air, tilting her head up so that she met eyes that were no longer worried, no longer frightened of the consequences. No, Elliot’s eyes were now intense with burning desire, an unrelenting need to have her. His thumb came up, brushing over Daisy’s lips with a slow indulgent caress, pausing briefly to press the tip against her mouth, his eyebrows raising just mildly as if in expectation. Though there was little choice in the process as that thumb pushed past resistance to feel her tongue, to enjoy the tantalizing sensation of her wet mouth suckling on his skin. There was certainly something to that, something beyond just the mere act, which translated the moment from playful engagement to domineering claim. And as he watched Daisy’s plump luscious lips wrapping around his skin, his other hand came to take hold of her pert rear, and he pulled her close to him. Letting her feel that hard thick shaft achingly push against her stomach. Elliot was hitting every note perfectly, what would it be like if he finally went the distance? The faint strains of Christmas music drifted down the staircase, soft at first but then the swell of a holiday classic filled the house, its cheerful melody spilling into the tension of the kitchen. It did not stop Elliot from holding her, in fact it only seemed to encourage him, as the notes of sleigh bells and the smooth voice of Michael Bublé filled the air proclaiming holiday cheer. It was loud, hinting at the well-meaning good nature of the older woman upstairs. The older woman they were both betraying this winter’s night. It was festive, it was joyful, but what they were doing would place them on the naughty list for sure. Elliot’s thumb finally left Daisy’s mouth, turning her away from him so that he could push up from behind, his arms wrapping around her as his hips began to sway. It could have been playful, two people just enjoying their time together. It could have been romantic, and certainly felt that way when Elliot lowered his head and planted a soft kiss on her neck. One hand moved to touch her stomach, the smallest of caresses as he rocked back and forth with her in time to the beat. But it was none of those things. No, this was terrifyingly lewd, his cock pressing between the cheeks of her bottom, rocking against her, practically dry humping with how he was grinding and his voice teased her mildly, the softest of words as he whispered. “Is this what you wrote Santa about? Did you have a Christmas wish, hoping he would make them come true for you? Or did you keep them secret, not telling a soul how badly you wanted to be fucked by me? Maybe it’s time you took the initiative, what do you say? Do you want to sit in my lap and tell me what I can bring you for Christmas?” It was horrible how he took such liberties without ever really asking her if she was ready. He was supposed to be the mature one, he was supposed to be the one who kept things in check. But Daisy had begun playing a game with him and now it was about to play out. Just not the way the young woman thought. Elliot’s hands tightened on her, keeping her still now as the soft notes of Winter Wonderland moved into Silent Night, and he sighed longingly into her ear as he whispered. “Bend over and hold your ass open for me. I want to open my gift.” ​