Chapter 6

The crisp air of the outdoor Christmas market had finally lost its bite, or maybe I was just too warm, too flushed from the mulled wine and the electric hum of anticipation that had been building between us since we first locked eyes over the chestnut vendors. The world outside the heavy velvet drapes of the private room in the back of the large tent was a blur of twinkling fairy lights, the scent of pine, and the distant jingle of sleigh bells. But in here, in the dim, amber-lit sanctuary, there was only him. And his cock. We had moved from the plush velvet couch to the floor, the thick Persian rug providing just enough cushion for my knees to press into the wool as I arched my back, offering myself up like a sacrifice on an altar built for one. Daddy had stripped off his heavy wool coat, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the fabric straining against his forearms. He looked like a god carved from marble and desire, his eyes dark and heavy with possession as he watched me prepare. "Look at you, baby girl," he murmured,