Page 12 of Naughty

Before I can answer, he scoops me up in his arms and walks me over to the bed. The sheets feel like a cloud, and I rub my fingers over the fabric in wonder. I've never had anything this nice to sleep on before. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I watch as Master Claus walks about the room, gathering things. The plate of food in the middle of the bed looks very enticing, but I don't dare eat without his permission.

"You don't like the cage."

I blink up at him, staying silent. It wasn't a question, so it doesn't require an answer. Right? He drops a bundle of rope onto the bed and tilts my chin up with his finger.

"Is it the confinement? Do you have an issue with small spaces?"

I give my head a rapid shake. Small is safe. No one can get you in small spaces. Nodding, he picks up a hank and drags it through his fingers. With his eyes closed and his lips curling up into an impish smile, he takes my breath away.

"Do you trust me?"

I freeze. Do I? I've dedicated my whole life to bringing down his line, but now that I'm face to face with him, he's asking me to trust him. My gut clenches as I contemplate my options. As his prisoner, I don't have much of a choice.

"May I ask you a question?"

He puts down the rope and nods.

"Why aren't there any holes? I'm an elf, but even we don't heal that fast."

Master Claus laughs so hard he shakes the bed. The merry sound startles me but quickly soothes my frayed nerves. At that moment, I want nothing more than to hear him laugh, see him smile. But it's not to be. Shoving the thoughts out of my head, I pull my knees in even tighter.

He crawls towards me, his eyes blazing with lust. With a yank of his hand, he pulls my legs open and dances his fingers along my lower lips. I try to fight it. I try not to give in, but his touch is like a balm to my soul. It feels right. He feels right. Whatever the hell that means.

"I didn't actually pierce you."

He flicks his fingertips across my clit, and I arch for him like an arctic fox in heat. As quickly as he started stroking me, he pulls away.

"But that's not important right now. What is important is that I have your complete trust."

Holding up the rope, he looks at me then back down at his hands. After what feels like an eternity, I nod.

"Good girl," he murmurs, helping me off of the bed to stand on the floor.

His words warm me. I look up at the ceiling and wish to all the Fathers that I could just tell him and end this. But, unless they can undo magic, they can't help me. No one can. Raising my hand towards him, he makes a loop in the rope and lays it on my skin. There's an odd texture about it. It's soft and yet just a touch abrasive.

I shiver as he drags it along my arm. We both stand there, silent as he works the rope about my body. Each loop brings me closer into myself. He brings my right arm over my waist and cinches it hard against me before bringing my left one over to do the same. Ropes crisscross about my upper body, leaving me immobile. For once, I don't mind. I feel safe, secure.

Scooping me back up, he lays me on the bed with such a gentle reverence. Could this really be the same man? He's so different from everything I've seen and been told. My mind takes a bitter turn. Not that anything he’s said has turned out to be true. I try to clear my thoughts so I can concentrate on everything Master Claus is doing to me. Bringing up my foot, he bends my leg at the knee and attaches a loop to my ankle.

"They say keeping your hands busy will let your mind work. I find my best ideas happen when working in the shop."

He pulls the heel of my foot flush with my ass cheek and winds the rope about my thigh to secure it.

"I want to talk to you about why you were in my study."

My eyes widen.

"I know you can't tell me. Trust me. We both would know if you were lying." He sighs and goes to my other foot. "I'm not going to ask you direct questions. I'm going to see if I can find a backdoor to things."

Gulping, I watch him as he winds the rope about my other leg. I'm completely at his mercy, unable to move even an inch. It's like being back on his bench, except this time, it feels more freeing. The ropes caress my body like his hands are holding me together.

"What are your feelings about Christmas?"

Startled, I just stare at him for a moment. This wasn't what I was expecting. "It's a holiday? Just a little more festive?"

"Hmm."

He reaches over and pulls the plate of food closer to us. Pulling off a piece, he brings it to my lips and coaxes it into my mouth. The chicken is divine. I chew and mull over our conversation. Is there really going to be a way around this?