The whole house smelled like cinnamon, pine, and trouble—her trouble. Anna Marie had been working on the decorations all day, humming Christmas songs like a good girl while she hung garland along the staircase and fluffed the gorgeous red velvet bows Sir liked. She made sure everything was perfect: the tree glowing gold, mistletoe hanging in all the right corners, candles lit so the room looked warm and inviting—like it was begging to be sinned in. She even wore the outfit Sir loved on her. A clingy little red dress that hugged her curves and barely covered anything. And no panties. Because she knew he’d check. When she heard the front door open, her stomach fluttered. Sir’s voice drifted in, deep and tired from a long day. “Babygirl…?” She stepped into the hallway, hands behind her back, hips swaying just enough to get his attention. “Surprise,” she whispered. “I wanted the house ready for you.” Sir looked around slowly, taking in the lights, the ribbons, the stockings—every detail she’d done just to make him smile. Then his gaze dropped to her thighs, and that smile turned wicked. “Come here,” he said. Not loud—just commanding. She walked to him, heat pooling between her legs with every step. When she reached him, Sir slid his hand up under her dress, fingers brushing her bare skin. “No panties,” he murmured. “You were thinking about me.” “I always think about you,” she breathed. Sir cupped her jaw and kissed her hard, pressing her back against the wall so the garland beside her trembled. His other hand slid higher, and she gasped as his fingers teased her slowly, deliberately, making her hips arch. “You did such a beautiful job with the house,” he said. “The lights, the tree, all of it. You’ve been such a good girl for me.” The praise went straight to her core. “Do you want your reward?” She nodded quickly, breath shaky. “Yes, Sir. Please.” Sir’s thumb brushed her lower lip before he spoke again. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall.” Her knees nearly buckled. She obeyed instantly, feeling his body press against her from behind. He slid her dress up over her hips, exposing her completely. “Look at you,” he murmured. “All ready for me. Needy little present.” His hand came down on her ass once—firm, claiming—and she let out a soft moan that echoed through the hallway. Sir bent her just a bit more, lips brushing her ear. “Hold still for me. I’m going to give you exactly what you’ve been begging for all day.” What he did next made the garland shake again. And the stockings. And her. By the time Sir pulled her back against his chest, her legs were weak and her cheeks flushed a deep holiday red. He kissed her shoulder and whispered, “Merry Christmas, babygirl.” She smiled breathlessly. “Best Christmas ever, Sir.”

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