Chapter 22 (Part - 2)

**| AURORA |**

I have never experience the true spirit of Christmas until I came across the Romanos. The extravagance and opulence aside, these people were obnoxiously obsessed with Christmas and everything that comes with it. Mrs. Romano, because of her part-Russian heritage, would insist that the celebration continues until the seventh of January.

As someone who barely had a reason or chance to celebrate Christmas, I used to be overwhelmed at first. Of course, the presence of Marco by my side had helped a lot, and Sammy, in picking up the most-revealing party dress she could find, it used to be one hell of a time.

However, this year, I managed to pull myself aside until the 26th. The reason being the absence of Marco for the past three months. I starved of him all this time, and it was the longest we were apart.

Despite being elementarily cheesy, we decided to spend the three days together, and devoid of his company, once he came back home.

As I sat by the fireplace, watching the soft crackle of the lively fire, I realized that it didn’t emit enough warmth for me. Perhaps, I needed something more...or maybe someone else.

When the front door opened an hour later, and in walked Marco, with an all-consuming presence in the expanse of the magnificent living room, I realized how my primal instincts twitched at the sight of him.

This man...my man...he was glorious. His dirty blond hair shone slightly under the yellowish lights while the smoldering eyes looked dreamy.

“Aren’t you a sight?” he murmured appreciatively, shrugging off the leather jacket and rolling the sleeves of his shirt to expose the corded muscles as he approached me.

To celebrate our first Christmas together as a couple, I purposely picked up a sequin dress with the plunging neckline that would surely knock the living breath out of him. More importantly, I wanted to show him what he has been missing out for three months.

I slowly rose from the chaise lounge by the fire, purposely bending over to place the wine glass on the floor and walked over to him.

“You made me wait too long,” I complained. “I was almost tempted to have anyone else appreciate this sight.” I waved a hand through the length of my body.

His volatile expression hardened only a little bit before he threatened. “Is that the way to greet your Master?”

“I have stayed long enough without my Master to rehearse his demands,” I told him cheekily and wrapped my arms around his neck to press a quick kiss to his five o’clock shadow. “Welcome home,” I whispered against his skin.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy for Christmas,” Marco admitted with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Liar,” I accused, tugging on his earlobe. “You were celebrating your own Christmas at the Club.”

Of course, I had no business to blame him for his abrupt disappearance from the party each year, but I was jealous in an irrational way as one would with a lover’s ex-boyfriend.

Marco was quicker in fisting my hair, ruining the elegant hairdo a little Della had spent an hour doing, and savagely took my mouth. It was wild, punishing, and wicked, suppressing all the rebel spirit I nurtured within me.

“I used to celebrate at the club—” He spun me over a nearby wing chair so quick that I didn’t realize what was happening until he was holding me down and kicked apart my legs. “Because of you.”

Grabbing onto the arms of the chair for balance, I peered back at him smilingly. “Oh, don’t blame my innocent self for your dark desires.”

“You would pick up the most tantalizing dresses to tease the hell out of me for the Christmas party. It was so hard for me to be around you without a damn boner!” Marco grunted.

I rolled my eyes. “Get over yourself. I dressed because I wanted to.”

Marco slipped into his quintessential stern mode as he swiftly flipped up the dress, baring my ass that I had so brazenly offered a moment ago. In no time, his callous hands connected with my skin, sparking a fire.

I starved for this pain, this glorious burn that ached between my legs, so much so, that it became almost impossible to reach climax without his nasty spanking.

Instead of fighting the burn, turning my ass into the shades of pink and red, I keened and moaned wantonly.

“What a shame!” Marco tsked, ceasing the raining spanks and rubbing the burn with his rough palms. “I can’t even spank you for my pleasure and your punishment.”

“More, please,“‌ I begged.

“Why should I?‌“‌ Marco challenged. “Ever since I walked in, all I heard was a disrespectful little submissive mouthing off and topping from the bottom to get what she wants instead of begging for her desires.” The rough caress got rougher. Leaning over, he used his chest to press my body further. “Need I remind you that I have been a dominant long enough to recognize this behavior?”

“No, Master,” my voice turned garbled. “But, I wanted you so badly that I was desperate.” The words came out raw and vulnerable.

"Aurora, Aurora.” The sigh was faint as he wound an arm around my middle and pulled me up. The pleasing sight of him, the satisfaction of being held against him—it was all a blessing.

I pressed my cheek against the fabric over his heart. “What would I ever do without you?”

“You don’t need to figure out that because you wouldn’t be without me. Not in every lifetime if I ever come across you. I will tie you to my bed if I have to.”

I vibrated with a chuckle, softly slapping his chest. “You would love that, Master. Wouldn’t you?”

“I would love anything that has to do with you being tied to my will and dominance. But, most importantly, I want you in my life.”

My heart was mush at his words, even though I strictly believed that I was not a soppy romantic person. I slowly stood straighter, tugging his hand to walk him over the dining place I spent decorating in the Christmas spirit.

“Come with me.“‌ I dazzled a smile. “I have a small surprise for you.”

I was so overwhelmed with happiness and restless of his arrival after three long months, I spent the entire morning decorating for our night, and all afternoon, helping Della cook us dinner.

“Do you like it?“‌ I asked gleefully, like a child excited for the approval of the parent.

Marco looked around the place, illuminated only by the soft iridescent light of the aromatic candles. The furniture was carefully replaced by the plush mattress and several cozy pillows. At the center, there was a wooden platform for the food.

He was so silent, and for a second, I doubted if I had gone wrong somewhere. But when he nuzzled into my neck, trailing soft kisses along the way, and whispered, “For the first time, this house feels like home. Our home."

It was undeniably our home—our world. But for me, as long as I was with Marco, wherever it was, it was home.

“I have a small gift for you as well.” Looking up, he gave me one of his most charming, gentleman-ly smile I have had the rare luck to encounter.

I was slightly confused. Marco wasn’t the kind of guy who would be that formal to pick up archetypal Christmas gift, and I wasn’t his archetypal girlfriend either.

He disappeared for a moment only to come strolling in with a velvety rectangular black box in hand. There was also an intense look in his eyes that sliced me a little. Why was he anxious for a gift? I would love anything as long as he picks it up for me.

“I had it custom made for you,” he explained, placing the rectangular box in my hand as my brows creased in confusion.

Dragging down my gaze, I slowly untied the ribbon on top, and with mildly trembling fingers, lifted the lid of the box.

The magnificent piece took my breath away.

It was a collar. Not a barbarian device but a refined version of piece jewelry that marked the beauty of a man owning a woman with utmost love and devotion.

It has a rose gold base, adorned with two angel wings in front that has been attached with a lock. The elaborate pattern on the angel-wings, studded with diamonds, was as elegant and detailed as a crown of a monarch.

Rightfully so, he was the only man who could make me feel like a queen.

“I...this—I am...”

“Do you like it?” Marco asked expectedly. Like? I was too dazed to construct words inside my head.

“Sweetheart, if you think it’s too early for this, you won’t have to wear it now. Or maybe, only when we play.”

“I would never take this off,“‌ I blurted out in a thready whisper. “If - if you would help me put it on, Master. It’s...it’s just beautiful.”

I was complete at a loss. In how many synonymous words could you describe a gift as beautiful as this?

This collar, without qualification and beyond any shadow of a doubt, marked me as his.

The cloud of worry shifted from Marco’s face, and there appeared the heavenly smile. “I was a little skeptical,” he admitted and picked up the choker in his hands, softly rubbing the leather between his deft fingers.

The same fingers that did wicked things to me.

“The wings symbolize your freedom. Even under my hand, there won’t be anything that you wouldn’t want. And the lock means that you are tied to my will—now and forever,” he explained.

My heart thundered deafeningly. I was, in the purest sense, tied to Marco now. Wordlessly, I swayed forward, inviting him to put the collar on me.

It was as if he could read my mind that he responded to my unspoken request. “In the world of BDSM, a collaring ceremony in sacred and conclusive in a way marriage is conceived, except it is more profound than commitment. It is also done publicly. But we are not doing that.”

My thoughts went chaotic. No? But why won’t he collar me publicly if that was the tradition?

His eyes, full of endless love, met mine. “Because, my love, you are not ready for that degree of exhibitionism and also because I have better ideas than a public collaring ceremony. Rest assured, you are becoming mine, Aurora, in every way I want to have you.”

His expression molded into a carnal resolve. Marco grasped me by the shoulder, spun me around, and held me tight against him. “Tonight, I want nothing but to see you in my collar,” he whispered against my ears as goosebumps crowded my skin.

Biting into my lips, I nodded obediently and reached for the zipper of the dress. But Marco immediately grabbed my wrists and dropped them to the sides.

“No,” he dismissed briskly.

And then I heard the sound of the zipper being roughly pulled down, the dress wrenched away from my body, fluttering down to the floor. I understood his animal aggression of stripping me was to satiate his dark desires that came with the ownership.

It was archaic. But I didn’t understand as to why had it made me uncharacteristically shy and vulnerable before Marco.

He unclasped the bra, rounded before me to rip it off from my body, and unceremoniously dragged down the matching panties while I stood unmoved before him - stark naked. And it didn’t seem to please him. His fingers dived into my hair, pulling out the hairpins, and dislodging the entire hairdo in mere seconds. Once done, he let the hair cascade over my back, slowly stroking them.

“Bare and beautiful,” Marco murmured to himself. His heated gaze raked all over my exposed skin from head-to-toe.

He slowly took two steps back, widening the distance between us, and I immediately felt the loss of warmth radiating from his body. But I understood the meaning, or at least, interpreted in my way.

It was time to grace my Master with the honor he valued the most.

My legs buckled on its own as I knelt before him - as gracefully as he had taught me - with my chin up and the eyes cast downward.

Marco’s deftly put the collar around my neck, his hands sinking into the abundant bulk of the hair bunched over my back as I heard the small clink of the lock. As thoughtful as he was, Marco checked the fit of the band to prevent the metal from biting into my skin, and only when he was satisfied that he allowed eye contact.

I blinked up instantly and saw how passion deepened the grey of his eyes at least a couple of shades darker as against my polished bronze. The moment was as surreal as it was enchanting. Helping me on my feet, he gently began to stroke the hair bracketing my face.

“Aurora.” His voice was raw and husky. “I owned your heart before I owned your body. If you ever forget that, come to me because I will never let you forget the various ways I made you mine.”

“I will never forget I am yours, Master.”

The rest of the words and thoughts liquified into the kiss when his lips plundered my mouth.

“We are not done yet,“‌ he informed me while I was recovering from the kiss. Marco led me over to a nearby ottoman with a tufted linen top and richly carved cabriole legs inspired from the spectacular 1950s Louis XV style.

“Get up on it,” he ordered, slipping into the clinical-mode of an exacting Dominant. “And on your hands and knees.”

I followed his order without a squeak of protest.

When I tried to look over my shoulder, his fingers tapped against my thigh in a warning. My mind blanked, body tensed, but somehow I managed to hold on and lowered my gaze.

Anxiety pulsed through my veins. And then heard Marco say, “Trust me, Aurora. You are safe with me.” I did and always trust him. Probably the only one. His fingers skimmed over my naked ass that has been offered so exquisitely for his inspection with the arch of my back dipped down.

I was dying to look at my reflection. How did I look with nothing on but my Master’s collar?

My thoughts quieted the second I heard the swish of his belt. Shit! The crack of the leather met my skin like a hot kiss in the next instant. On instinct, my hips buckled, breaking my position. The pain began to radiate through my skin and slowly centered between my legs.

Marco silently waited until I moved back into position. His commands were unwritten rules I had to follow until he ordered otherwise.

The next blow landed, with calculated strength that carved another searing path of heat. It went on and on, pushing my mind into a state of blankness, where I began to enjoy the velvety pain. I didn’t care how many strokes he had planned or whether he was counting at all or not, I was lost into oblivion.

There was another level of intimacy with his leather reddening my ass. The blows finally stopped as the buckle of belt fell on the floor with a distinct clank. I didn’t need a visual to confirm the vicious welts blooming on my skin.

I gasped when the heavy arm draped over my back, pulling me into his warmth. “Shh, I am here, la mia dolce bambina," he cooed in my ear. (My sweet, beautiful girl.)

I wanted to cry in boundless joy.

Marco held me in his arms until I recovered, occasionally pushing aside the hair behind my ear. The soft smile on his lips was seemingly suggestive as I furrowed my brows in confusion. What was he trying to communicate?

In response, Marco gently turned me towards a windowpane where the inky black glass reflected our image.

The sight of us - pressed together - was exhilarating. The willing submissive, naked, marked and collared, and the quintessential Master and Dominant, clothed to perfection.

“This is for the world to see that you are mine,” he said as he traced the collar. “And this—” he slightly turned me sideways, letting me have a visual of the blooming ass. “This is for my eyes, for my pleasure.”

The welts were not wicked but articulately branded, truly reflecting on Marco’s expertise in wielding the leather.

“Please, please, Master...“‌ I moaned into his, begging for the final act of his ownership over me.

“How can I not reward my sub when she has been nothing short of spectacular?“‌

Marco positioned me on my knees, careful not to hurt the tender skin as he stripped down in record time. Abundant palms spread open my buttocks, and effortlessly he slid his length into my slick channel.

“Oh, fuck!” The whimper burst forth, squeezing shut my eyes.

“Watch us, baby,“‌ Marco directed, thrusting in and out. I strained my neck up to glance at our reflection and met his eyes.

The drunken satisfaction and the primal hunger were so prominent in his face that it stripped away the veneer of civility from his expression. He looked every bit of the powerful man, the dominant character, and striking figure I had fallen head over heels.

The man - the *beast*, truly - was hell-bent on consuming my body and my heart. The thought alone ran a sensual flush through my body, forcing a sudden orgasm as I came screaming on my knees.

That was simply the first of the many that followed. Pain and pleasure collided against each other in waves as Marco fucked me thoroughly, changing his pace after every orgasm. It was a miracle that I had any strength left in my limbs to endure until the end.

“You are a dream,” he murmured while I was bundled in his arms, my head resting against his chest.

I looked up and smiled softly. “I am very much real, Master.” With that, I pinched and twisted the fine hair on his chest, forcing out a sudden wince.

Marco immediately caught my wrist, scowling. “If you ever try that nonsense again, I will take a belt to your cunt.”

“And after that, we will you fuck me?”

He burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Greedy woman of mine.”

“Only yours,” I whispered into his chest as the clock struck midnight.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” He kissed on top of my head, cradling me close.