Colorado Christmas (Service & Submission Book 4) Read online




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  By Megan Michaels

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  By Megan Michaels

  From The Author

  Colorado Christmas

  Megan Michaels

  Copyright © 2015 by Megan Michaels

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Rachel A Olson (www.nosweatgraphics.weebly.com)

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and as such, any similarity to existing persons, places or events must be considered purely coincidental.

  This book contains content that is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.

  For mature readers only.

  Published in the United States of America.

  First Electronic Edition: December 2015

  By Megan Michaels

  The Service & Submission Series:

  Finding Submission

  Mastering Inga

  My Russian Master

  Colorado Christmas

  The Widow Wagon Series:

  Book One: Second Chances

  Book Two: More Than She Bargained For

  Book Three: Cinch Your Saddle

  Published By Stormy Night Publications

  What Naughty Little Girls Get

  The Little Princess Cruise

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to acknowledge Nicole Hernandez-Vela. Since the first book she has read of mine, she has been faithful, diligent, loyal, and persistent. She has pimped my books daily and weekly now for a year and a half. She has propped me up on several occasions, having more faith in my abilities than I could ever have. So, when she asked if I had considered doing a Service & Submission Christmas book, I leapt at the idea!

  Thank you, Nicole for all you do — and for believing in me!

  For Nicole.

  May you always enjoy naughty escapades, romance, and the Spirit of Christmas.

  Chapter 1

  “Avery, I don’t have a clue what you did with the tickets. If I remember correctly, you told me — with attitude — that you could handle keeping track of two ‘measly tickets.’” He stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at her. She forced herself to ignore the fact that he looked sexy as hell in jeans, a white turtleneck, and a brown tweed jacket.

  “Preston, seriously? You think now is the time to keep a tally?” She wasn’t going to deal with this. They had to be at the airport in less than twenty minutes, and she still didn’t know where she put the tickets.

  He pointed his long finger at her. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “Fine. Will you please just put that same energy into finding them?” She resorted to pulling up cushions. She remembered specifically thinking, I’ll put them here so I can find them.

  She’d been planning this trip to Colorado for months. She still couldn’t believe they were all going. She and Preston, Inga and Garrett, and now Caroline and Maxim. She could hardly wait to meet Caroline’s fiancé. It was hard to believe they were already engaged. All three of the couples had become engaged quickly and all three practiced D/s. She loved that she didn’t have to explain or get weird looks from her friends.

  The stress of losing the tickets became more than she wanted to deal with. Avery decided that the situation called for chocolate. She unzipped the front pocket of her carry-on bag; she had put candy and snacks in there for both of them for the flight. Digging around inside it for the candy bars, she pulled one out of the pocket — and with it came the tickets which fell onto the floor.

  “Oh my fucking God, they’re here! We’re set!” She put her hand to her mouth after witnessing the scowl on Preston’s face. He grabbed her arm, swatting the seat of her jeans several times.

  “We do not use language like that. Will you ever figure this out?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.” Better to just mollify him; she’d have almost two weeks of swearing, drinking, and laughing with her friends. She’d humor him in the meantime.

  “I’m not tolerating this, Avery. We have two weeks at the ski lodge, and these are people who understand how we live.” He wagged his finger under her nose. “I’ll paddle your little ass if need be. Keep it in mind.”

  She sighed. “Preston, are you going to be a stick in the mud? ‘Cause we’re all hoping to have fun. Maybe it would be best for you to stay home and let the young people go without you.”

  “I think you better rephrase that, kitten.” He dipped his chin. “First, Garrett is older than I am. Two, you need a keeper, girlie. I wouldn’t think of leaving you alone in Colorado. Scares me to think of the trouble you’d get into.” He shivered dramatically for her benefit, grabbing the carry-on bringing it to the car.

  “I want you to be there. I just want to have fun too without you being a fuss budget.” She purposefully pushed her bottom lip out, giving him her prettiest pout.

  “Not working, girl.” He walked out the door, leaving her standing there, hoping that the rest of the men were a little more relaxed than Preston would be. She knew Garrett wasn’t as uptight, but as a Master in their relationship, Inga typically didn’t do anything without his permission. But because of the children, Garrett seemed to be a little more laid back. From what she had seen with friends, kids did that to a person: they help all parents with at least one flaw helping them pull their heads out of their asses. There was nothing like a screaming child on an airplane or restaurant to turn arrogant, know-it-all moms and dads into humble-as-pie parents.

  She grabbed the last bag, lugging it down the front steps, and into Preston’s waiting hands. He slammed the tailgate down. “One last look around the house, and I think we’re ready to go. Garrett and Inga are meeting us there.” He took the stairs to the porch two at a time, before turning around at the top. “They have their own tickets, right?”

  “Yes. They’re all set. I gave them to Inga over a week ago.”

  “Next time, you should give her our tickets too. She’s much more organized than you are. It would have saved us over a half hour of searching.”

  She opened the passenger door, muttering, “Whatever.”

  Preston opened the front door, shouting over his shoulder. “Say it louder, please.”

  “Nothing.” She smiled sweetly back at him, then blew him a kiss before sitting on the warm leather seat. She scrolled through her phone to find her music playlist.

  Preston slid into the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition. “Everything is set. Doors locked, timers on for the lights, water shut off, appliances unplugged — and mom is going to come check on our houses while we’re gone in case of any unforeseen problems.”

  “My God, you’d think we lived in the middle of Montana during blizzard season. Christ, it’s Virginia in the late fall.” She turned the knob on the dash to radio mode, syncing her iPhone. One of her favorite rap bands came on, filling the small compartment.

  Preston didn’t say a word, switching the mode to his favorite station filling the car with country music, slapping Avery’s hand when she tried to change it back. “I refuse to have my nerves on edge before we get to the airport. If
you want to listen to your music, by all means, do it — with headphones!

  She thought once again, how much she loved this predictable, rational man—who many days drove her absolutely insane.

  Chapter 2

  “Come. Now.” Maxim’s arm reached in around the shower curtain, his large hard clasping her bicep.

  “Maxim, please. We don’t have time.”

  “We have more than enough time. I made sure of it. It’s an hour earlier than you think. I set your alarm clock early.”

  He dragged her unceremoniously out of the shower, water dripping everywhere. She tried to stand on the towel he’d placed on the floor. “You what? That not only not nice, it’s not fair.” She tried to yank her arm out of his grasp again.

  “Caroleena, you are late always. We would never be on time if I trusted you. I did what is best for us and for trip. Stop fighting me and come.” He hauled her to the bedroom. The air felt cool on her drenched hair and body, her nipples tightening against the chill. He paused for a moment to pull her breast into his mouth, laving the hard nub with his moist, soft tongue, warming the goose flesh on the areolas.

  Pulling away, her breasts aching for more, he pointed to a plush, white bath towel draped over a stack of pillows in the center of the bed, a stark contrast to the deep navy bedspread. “Lie over the pillows, Caro.”

  “Maxim, please, do we have to do this? Now?” She turned, looking at the clock on the nightstand, frowning at him. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

  He chuckled, the sound a deep rumbling in his chest. “I didn’t lie. I just manipulated the situation — a bit.”

  “Do I get to say that when I lie to you?” She put her hands on her hips, water still dripping down her arms and back.

  “You better not even think of hanging noodles on my ears. But if you want hard spanking, go ahead.” He winked at her, waving at the towel again.

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “Hanging noodles on your ears?”

  “Yes, it means lying, as you say here ‘pulling my leg.’ You won’t do that.’” He gave her a pointed look. “On the damn bed, Caro.”

  She shook her head, his many colorful sayings boggling her mind as usual. The terrycloth fabric felt rough against her wet, sensitive skin. Although the heat had been on for months in New York, she still felt chilled, naked, wetness soaking into the towel. “Am i being punished?”

  “No, girl. This is to keep your ass hot and remind you to behave. No nasty words to me or others, and reminder to be kind and courteous.” He tapped her bottom with the riding crop. “You behave best when your backside is red.”

  “But I don’t want to sit on a sore butt on the plane.”

  “No one asked if you wanted it. I told you that you would receive it, yes?” She could refuse. She always had the option to refuse, and he’d listen.

  She sighed. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good girl. We get some of this water off your little ass.” He snapped the crop against her flesh, hard and fast, all the strikes hitting the underside of her cheeks. Unable to restrain her legs, they fluttered on the bed, trying in vain to ease the sting, the waves of pain snaking down her legs.

  He then flicked the crop in a random pattern, keeping her off balance enough that she couldn’t prepare for the burning pain. Caroline squeezed the bedspread in her fists, rocking her hips to avoid the swats.

  Maxim grabbed an ankle, forcing her to stay still. “You will listen on trip. You will do as you are told. You will let me know where and what you will be doing. Yes?”

  The crop bit particularly hard on the last question.

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice broke on the words.

  “It seems the water is almost gone. Now, to paint this ass red.” The pace and strength of the lashes increased. She tried — unsuccessfully — to roll off the pillows, but he apparently anticipated her move. “No, girl. You stay.” He smacked the back of her thighs a couple times as punishment for attempting to escape.

  “Ohhhh, Maxim!”

  “Sir!” He slapped the crop on her thighs again. “You will watch what you say to me and others, yes?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She hated when this happened. She’d been able to hold the tears at bay, but being forced to speak made her expel the breath she’d been holding, sobs and tears soon following.

  “Just a few more.” He continued the fast, harsh pace. “I am bringing the metal pocket cane and metal pipe brush.”

  She hated the hellish things. Only a Master would come up with such vile instruments. She’d been spanked in the car and on trips with both of them. Small and easy to conceal in his pocket — or the luggage — she swore they stung even worse than his regular whip. The little pipe brush seemed so innocuous that the first trip they took together, she had decided that his order that she call every hour while she shopped wasn’t all that important. So she’d made the mistake of waiting two hours. She found out that Maxim didn’t allow any deviation from his orders. That metal pipe brush had left red and purple stripes on her ass for the rest of the trip.

  “Yes. Okay. I’ll be good. I promise.” She was unable to hold still, her hips bucking on the pillow, the burn in her ass becoming unbearable. Thankfully, he stopped at that point, tossing the crop next to her on the bed. She didn’t even want to see it, so she shoved it away from her, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

  “Ah. Attitude.” His hand stroked her sore bottom. “Maybe I need to spank more? Is that so, bad girl?”

  “No. No, sir. I just... I don’t want to see it. It hurts.”

  “As it should. You will remember rules better this way.” He knelt next to her, pressing kisses to her sore flesh, nibbling and licking, his face feeling cool against her burning skin.

  Situating himself between her legs, his nose slid up the crack of her ass as his tongue inched along the seam of her labia, those skilled hands spreading her cheeks. His tongue glided slowly up to her little hole, licking and teasing the sensitive flesh. Light, feathery kisses made their trek back down over her fleshy lips, the tongue poking, tapping against her clit. Caroline ground her hips into the pillows, clenching, moaning. Her arousal climbed higher as she lifted her ass up to give him better access, pushing back against his face.

  He chuckled, the rumble vibrating through her slick, moist flesh, reverberating into her core. He pressed his tongue into her pussy, slowly and languidly licking and sucking. She groaned loudly, unable to contain her growl. Once her breaths and sighs became rhythmic, climbing to a staccato beat, Maxim pulled away, the sound of him drawing down his zipper making her look over her shoulder at him. He released the large, veined cock, stroking it. He smiled at her, knowing she loved watching him caress the silky length. A bead of pre-cum glistened on the head.

  His hands braced her hips, and he thrust into her in one fluid movement. She exhaled on a loud sigh, her pussy tingling with the warm invasion filling her, rubbing and sliding on the sensitive flesh. She pulsed and vibrated around his cock, rocking her hips and pushing back, forcing him to press deeper into her.

  “Oh! I need—” She wanted to speak, so badly — but she knew she needed permission.

  “Yes, Caro!”

  Thank god.

  She stiffened, clenching his cock, screaming with her release. Her flesh pulsed and quivered around his pistoning, pounding member until he jammed into her, stilling and growling with his own release. His hot semen filling her, causing her muscles to tighten around him, a strangled moan coming from behind his closed lips. His still-throbbing penis ignited her flesh, and instead of winding down, she felt her arousal climbing, her vulnerable clit straining for touch, yet too sensitive. She whined when he slipped out of her. He replaced it, however, with his expert fingers, pushing and prodding, while his thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves. She panted and keened, squeezing, rubbing, grinding. When he pushed a finger into her bottom hole, she growled deep and long.

  “My god, Caroleena. Who knew you needed this so bad?” He pulled her body off the pillows, s
pooning with her on the bed, stroking her hair. She loved nestling with him, feeling his warm body against her back, his fingers raking through her long hair, calming, soothing her.

  “Your ass is still hot against me, hopefully it stays red and sore long enough for you to behave on this trip.” He patted her hip, sliding his cool hand over her.

  “It hurt. A lot.” She turned, giving him a pout.

  Maxim climbed off the bed. “No whining. Not allowed. Come. Up. Go wash yourself in the shower, and I’ll get your breakfast.”

  She put her hand into the palm of his outstretched arm, and he slapped her ass as she walked away.

  Chapter 3

  “Did you remember to give Liam’s blanket and Maddie’s doll to my mother?”

  Inga could barely answer, chewing on her lip, looking up to find him smiling mischievously back at her. Glaring at him, she contemplated not answering — that is until he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. She grabbed his hand. “Yes, your mother has them.”

  Sitting in cramped quarters on a packed flight, and fighting the need to orgasm, was not how she envisioned the beginning of her vacation to Colorado.

  She muttered under her breath, “Jävla människa, jävla hand i badrummet.”

  “Missy, I only understood part of that — fucking the hand.” He quirked one eyebrow at her. “You better not even think about it. Is that a lesson that needs to be revisited?”

  She swallowed. She definitely didn’t want to have orgasm denial again — ever. “No, Master. I’m just talking. I didn’t mean it.” She averted her eyes, looking at her feet.

  “What did you say in Swedish?”

  She stared at him for a moment, not wanting to upset him, but knew she had no choice. “I said: ‘Damn man, I will be fucking my hand in bathroom.’ But I wouldn’t really do that. I was just—”