Chapter Three

Stuart

I'm not even sure if Rose is going to be here—it's all part of that new Christmas surprise Leo will offer his billionaires at this time of year—but my whole body tingles with anticipation anyway.

I don't know why I think that a woman as delicate and respectable as Rose would be here... and yet, I believe it. I can almost feel her, waiting for me on the island. I know she'll be under my tree.

One of the valets guides me to my suite. It's dark outside by the time I arrive on the island. As we stroll the sandy path toward the villa I always request, I absorb the pleasurable scenes around me. Everyone wears masks, as usual, and many of the outfits are identical. There's one woman being double-teamed by a couple of my business associates, and we wave to one another in passing, though all they say is, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” There's another being hungrily devoured between her legs, a man’s mask ridden up onto her mons by his impassioned dining.

I wonder where Leo is. Probably off in the shadows, watching everything like a good host. He's always making sure that these women are taken care of, and that the men enjoy themselves.

"Here you are, sir," the valet says, bowing low as we approach a wooden walkway. Beyond us lies a spacious villa, fully decked out in Christmas lights, and my heart warms at the sight. This may be a sex island but it's still a genuine display of holiday cheer. It's been a long time since I celebrated Christmas through and through: the tree, and the precious gift nestled beneath it. I hope the stockings by the fireplace belong to Rose.

"Thank you, sir." I bow slightly to the valet and he's excused. I turn and cross the wooden walkway, wondering if she'll be in there. She is, after all, a devout Christian, and something about her screams of virginity. She was probably horrified by that invitation.

I haven’t been a good boy this year, anyway.

The door opens, and I scan the warm cherry wood floor for any hint of her presence here but there's nothing and my heart sinks. Damn.

My eyes tilt up to the coatrack next to the foyer exit, and I see a tell-tale blouse and skirt hanging. Her clothes?

I tread down a corridor and in the den is a massive, sparkling evergreen.

Rose isn't sitting beneath it... but she is sitting beside it.

My jaw drops, and I struggle to process this image. It’s like the fucking Ark of the Covenant. It’s so beautiful, I think I might melt.

She wears a green ribbon blindfold and doesn't seem to be aware that I've entered the room. Her body is wrapped in shiny red and green ribbon, looping over her breasts and hiding her nipples from me. The ribbon loops and crisscrosses on her torso, tied again into a dramatic bow right in her lap... on top of her pussy, knowing Leo and how much he appreciates aesthetics.

Rose's skin glows with oil, and I know that she has been prepared for me by the staff.

She let them strip her down and lube her body, then wrap her in ribbon and blindfold her. She let them do that. My dick is about to rip the seam on these trousers, that’s so hot. She is here only for me. She was prepared for me. And she comes like a willing sacrifice.

And I'm finally seeing her without the big coat and the modest dress and the tights. All she's wearing tonight is ribbon...

I could never imagine that Rose, my Rose, would ever be so free. Is this all for me? Is this truly happening?

I might be an entrepreneur considered a genius by his peers but this moment—this naked girl wrapped in ribbon—might be my crowning achievement.

I swallow and cross the threshold of the den.

I've had women before. Probably hundreds. But... none of them have ever meant as much as Rose means. She's the first woman who has ever truly been out of my league, no matter how rich I am, no matter how handsome they might say I am. That's how I feel. I might be a ten... but she's a ten stack.

Her hair is down and wild, her breasts so perky and ready for my mouth beneath that glossy red band of ribbon. Nestled beneath her ribbon is an adorable plume of pubic hair. I want to unlace that ribbon. I need to unlace that ribbon.

I haven't felt this way since I was a child.

Mystique Island really has recaptured the spirit of Christmas for me with this Wish List idea.

I can't believe she came. I can't believe she came.

And now, she's going to come. She's going to come her brains out.

I step forward slowly, filled with something like reverence. I asked for her, and in spite of being a billionaire for years now, I never expected I would get her. She's not the kind of woman you can just buy.

I swallow, and my hardness redoubles the closer I get. Her scent slides into my nose, tickling, encouraging me onward. Deeper against her. My length is as dangerous as a beam of steel as my eyes trail over her body. She's painful to gaze upon. I need release.

Without speaking, I crouch and scoop her into my arms. She yelps but doesn’t resist. My biceps bunch with power but she's as light as air in my embrace. I settle her down onto the low coffee table in the den and she stiffens.

"Stuart?" she breathes. “It’s Stuart, isn’t it?”

"You know it's me," I tell her. "Merry Christmas, Rose."

“I’m a virgin," she blurts, and I can’t stop the smile from forming on my face.

“Shh,” I say. “That’s perfect.”

I grasp the tip of her ribbon—the one sitting so pretty on her sprig of golden pubic hair—and pull, unwinding the bow until it falls away and I'm left peering into that soft, curly bush.

I want to bury my face in her. My pants are wet with pre-cum. My cock has more blood in it than my brain or my heart right now, and I lower my face down, down, down, pulling in a deep breath of her pussy, like she’s a fine fucking wine.

Rose gasps and shifts toward me, then away, probably startled by the way I almost buried myself against her bush. It's so beautiful, I can't resist. How does it smell like fucking vanilla?

I firmly pry her knees apart, and now she's sitting with them open, her hips resting on her heels. It's a strong stance, unlike the way women usually take a good tonguing, and I think it'll give her some more control and make her feel comfortable. Gives me one hell of a view, too. Lots of… access.

First, though, I just stare. I enjoy the view. I don’t want to rush this.

Rose’s thighs are spread for me at a 130-degree angle, highlighting that hot pink gash between her legs, fucking dewy in the Christmas lights. God, I want her. I want her like I've never wanted anything before.

"Oh, Rose," I murmur to her, pressing myself flat to the coffee table so that my face is almost pressed into that pussy. The heat wafts off of her and my hand snakes into my pants and squeezes my cock to give him some tiny sense of relief. Because I want to wait, as hard as that is going to be. I want her sweet juices coursing down my chin before my zipper comes down.

Because she's the gift. She's worth it.

"Are you ready, Rose?" I whisper, my warm breath tickling against her swollen lips and her perky little clit. I know she's ready. She’s ready, and when she feels my breath on her skin, her hips rock forward slightly. She wants me. Her body can't hide it.

"I'm ready." Her voice is almost choked, and she rocks forward again, urging me to taste her.

She must be so tired of waiting. She's been ready for a man for so long but she had to wait for the right one. For me.

I can wait, too. For the perfect second. The perfect flick of my tongue.

I extend my tongue and give one quick flick up her pink strip, hitting that rigid clit and then retract it into my mouth. I clamp my jaw shut and tamp down a moan, eyes rolling at the sweetness of her taste. I could eat her all night for no reason at all.

"Let's start," I rasp and flick her cunt again. “Here we go.”