Mr. Santa

by Shana Vanterpool

  “Taste good?” He chuckled knowingly. “You really are a bad girl this time. Maybe I was saving that experience for later.”

  He had it all wrong. I only succumbed to him when he succumbed to me. “What? You want a taste?” I crawled over his body, settling on his lap. His cock was thick with want. I plunged my fingers in my pussy, making them slippery with his cum, and then showed them to him. They glistened.

  He glared beneath me. “You better be putting those in your mouth. Put them anywhere near mine and I’ll spank the ever-loving shit out of your ass.”

  “You’re not one of those guys that are afraid of the taste of their own cum, are you?” I pouted in disapproval and put them in my mouth instead, cleaning my fingers of his musk. His semen was everywhere. In my mouth, on my fingers, dripping down my thighs, inside of my pussy.

  His fingers slipped between us and toyed with my pussy before pushing inside. “You don’t listen do you.” He pulled his fingers out and popped them into his mouth, moaning like the taste of our love making was better than he thought it would.

  The moment he pulled his fingers free, I kissed him, fondling his tongue with mine. Our love making created a thick musky intoxicating taste we shared. I felt it happen like a dream. His cock sought me out as my wet heat sought out him. The tip slipped inside, making a new flood of liquid drip down his shaft.

  His kiss turned dangerous. Filthy. Lust driven.

  Just like mine.

  I lowered myself slowly onto his shaft, moaning into his mouth when it burned. The pinch as he stretched me was as intoxicating as his kiss. Having him inside of me felt like he’d never leave me here with my love. He’d feel it with me.

  He would let my love own his soul.

  I tore my lips free and braced my hands on his chest, arching my back to take all of him. His massive cock stretched me so incredibly deep I knew there was no way I’d ever have sex with anyone else. His cock was made for me, fitting every tight curve and crevice my pussy ached for.

  I rocked back and forth over him, riding him in the most relentless way. Fast, deep, hard; he was never out of me for long.

  The sight of his face was the definition of beauty. His eyes gleaming like obsidian. His hair messy from my fingers. His beard tracing his just-kissed lips. His jaw clenched, teeth gritted, the pleasure flushed high in his cheeks. I’d do anything to keep this. Anything.

  “You love my pussy, don’t you, Daddy Santa.”

  In response, he arched his back, digging his fingernails into my waist.

  I fucked him harder, driving his teeth into his bottom lip. “It’s the best pussy you’ve ever had, huh, Daddy?”

  “Shit, yes,” he growled, his body tightening.

  “Tell me you love it.” My ass slapped off his thighs. His eyes were barely open. His abs were coiled. “Tell me you love my pussy.”

  “I love you,” he moaned, growling as a hot stream of his cum shot into my pussy.

  I rode him faster, harder, clenching my pussy around his cock. He cursed repeatedly, breaking the flesh of my waist with his fingernails as filthy dirty words spewed from his lips. And they were all followed by my name.

  “Fucking so good, Noelle. Shit, Noelle. Damn it, Noelle. Son of a bitch, Noelle. Ahh, I love you, Noelle.”

  I exploded around his cock harder than the first two times. Not because his cock was magic. Not because he was my dirty Santa.

  But because he’d said he loved me. Twice.

  And Micha Santa didn’t make the same mistake twice.

  I fell across his chest, panting. He was still inside of me, pulsing. I lifted free of him, hissing quietly when he left me empty. I curled up against his chest and he managed to pull the blanket across our backs just in time for my eyes to close.

  ***

  He didn’t stir when I woke.

  I carefully eased out of his arms and ran for the hall bathroom in the dark, washing his sweat and semen from my body. I needed to shave. My legs and pussy looked fine, but I could already feel the beginnings of stubble. He obviously didn’t have a razor with him. I wrapped myself in a towel and put my dried panties and bra on before stealing more of his clothes. I made his flannel pajamas look like a kid wearing her father’s clothes.

  Smirking, I went into his bathroom and searched through his things. He had nothing but clothes. No electricity. No food. It chilled me to think about him on his own. It almost felt like a last stand. In hindsight, maybe that’s what it was. One last chance to exist before he left for duty.

  Swallowing my tears, I wondered the real reason Winter sent me here. She had a good nose, could sense things in the air. She’d either felt in her heart that her father was close to the edge, or she knew I’d pull him back. Or maybe I was grasping at straws for how to fix our relationship. The breaking of it was inevitable. It would happen. Keeping my love for her father a secret wasn’t the same as lying about being with him.

  My tears increased, coming from two different pains. I had to figure out a way to pull Micha from the edge, and earn his daughter’s forgiveness for tossing our relationship over the edge in exchange.

  The lack of food and water, coupled with the days spent in a fog of orgasms, had me on empty. I knew there was food in my car. But one look out the window showed me that the entire porch was submerged in snow. I’d never make it, unless Santa Clause gifted me an army tank. With Wi-Fi. And Diet Coke.

  I made a cup of peppermint tea and glared at his food options, settling on a protein bar and a can of clam chowder. I ate it in front of the fire after tossing a log in. He’d get me pregnant. It was inevitable as well. I’d never let a man cum inside of me before. Never let them have my body, because since the day I met Micha, it was his. I finished my food and huddled by the fire, feeling like my secret was going to become my reality.

  To have my love, I’d be forced to give up the friendship that brought it to me.

  I’d never been one to bite the hand that fed me. But this hand also held my heart, dripping and pumping. He’d breathed life into it, keeping it alive; I’d be nothing without it.

  Chapter Eight

  Noelle

  “What’s that noise?”

  I blinked at the fire, feeling the stirring of life come back to me the moment his sleepy voice swept over my back. “What noise?”

  “Listen.” He sat up, looking over his shoulder at the door. His hair was sexed and mussed, wayward on top of his head. His eyes were still drowsy with lust.

  And as much as I would have rather looked at him forever, getting lost in every hair and wrinkle, something tore me from my dream.

  In the distance, there was a whirring sound, like a garbage truck, or… a snow plowing truck. My heart sunk. Our eyes met. Our snowed in lust-laden tryst was over. The roads were cleared. My Prius could make it out of here, away from him. I felt sweaty with panic, my mouth going dry and my throat squeezing in panic.

  He licked his lips. “Could you make some coffee?”

  He didn’t want to talk about leaving. Which meant he didn’t want me to leave either. My heart released the panicked hold. I nodded. “Anything for you, Micha.”

  He was half-dressed when I brought it to him, jeans zipped but unbuckled, bare upper half facing the fire.

  “Thank you,” he rumbled, bending to press a short, but lingering kiss to my lips before taking a sip.

  The buzz of his kiss tingled in my lips. It was amazing to me, how aching my insides were for him. It felt like we hadn’t been together in years. When we’d been locked, middle to middle, only hours ago.

  So, I gave in. Because the roads were clear and our time together may one day become something I look back on.

  I dropped to my knees in front of him, forcing the tears back where they came. I can cry later.

  “What are you—oh,” he exhaled, watching me pull his flaccid dick from his pants.

  I stroked his smooth soft skin, feeling it slowly come to life. It was a beautiful penis. Nothing about it made me wonder or overl
ook. I eyed every smooth hard inch, squeezing my legs together to smother the ache.

  “You’re coming in my mouth this time.” I looked up at him from my perch in front of the fire, pressing down on his tip with my thumb. “And don’t spill your coffee.” I guided his tip into my mouth.

  His taste was as sublime as last time. The fog wasn’t as confusing. I basked in it, moving down his length until he was deeply nestled in my throat. I trumped down my reflex to gag, and then I systematically made my best effort to own his soul.

  I deepthroated his cock, loving the sounds of his growls forced through gritted teeth. I pulled away, trailing my tongue along a thick vein, and swirled it around his head. When I glanced up, it was like he was waiting for me to. His eyes locked on mine, showing me that the storm was far from over. His eyes glimmered with lust and desire, making them shine as much as his slick cock.

  “Gonna… cum,” he ground out, white-knuckling his coffee cup.

  I fisted his cock and stroked, pumping him with his tip resting barely inside my mouth. I wanted to taste every drop, feel the warm hot stream hit my tongue. The pleasure I derived from his was unsettling, so strong and intense I felt on the edge of erupting. I waited until my mouth was full of him before I let every musky drop slide down my throat.

  I cleaned him with my tongue and then put his half-massed cock back in his pants, zipped and buttoned him up, and then pressed a kiss above his waistline. The heat of his taut abs made me purr.

  “Your body’s unfair.” I drug my lips over his abs. “You remember that one time you had that Christmas party?” I kissed his V’s, praising their holy existence. “I was probably sixteen. It was right before your second tour. It was at Autumn’s work, I think.” I brought my hands up, savoring every warm hot inch of his body. “You were drunk. Started undressing as soon as you got home. Tore your suit off—hot as fuck suit, by the way—and your undershirt. Winter groaned and left the room. But I couldn’t move. That was the first time I masturbated that night. To you, to these abs, this delicious sinful body.” I gazed up at him from under my lashes, meeting his shining obsidian eyes. “I stopped fighting how I felt that night. And I’m stopping now too. You know how I feel. I’ve loved you for eight years, and I’ll love you forever, Micha. Do anything I could to make you happy. Make love to you every chance I got. I’d be there when you needed me. I’d never let you hurt or suffer. I will be here for you every single time you need me.” I struggled to keep them at bay, but my tears won out, falling silently down my face as I gave him my heart. I rose to my feet on weak legs. “I want to be yours. I want to have your babies, make those babies. I want to marry you, I want the world to know that I am yours. I want to fight and scream, and I want to spend hours having makeup sex because of it. I want to give my heart to someone and know they won’t abandon it. I want the family I’ve never had, with you.” I pulled his face down on mine and kissed him as hard as I could, for as long as I could, so he’d know how forever my love was.

  It wasn’t strong enough for a weekend. It could no longer be a secret. We’d set it free this Christmas, and he needed to know that it would only grow. Consume me.

  My love would devour me if he didn’t feed it.

  “Okay,” he whispered, the warmth of his coffee soaking into our toes where he’d dropped his mug during our kiss. He grabbed hold of my face and poured his heart into my eyes. “This is crazy. It’s insane.” He smiled in disbelief. “I was ready to give up when I came here. But from the moment you walked into this cabin, you’ve done nothing but show me how beautiful it could be again. I feel good, wanted, strong, warm—you brought me back to life, Noelle, and nothing could ever make me turn my back on that. We can figure out the other shit later, but for right now, I can’t give up the only person in my life who reminded me what living felt like.”

  My lips rose. I beamed at him, grinning so wide my lips were confused. They weren’t used to smiling that hugely. They weren’t used to happiness this intense. “Okay?” My heart soared. “That is by far the best anticlimactic response to forever in ever! Give me another.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head as his lips came for me. “You’re cool.”

  I moaned against his lips. “Again.”

  “You’re reliable.”

  I laughed. “One more.”

  “You’re an outstanding kisser. You’re the best lover. You’re beautiful. You’re supportive. You’re funny, you’re unbelievably sexy. You’re my Christmas present, honey. And now I want to unwrap it.”

  “You’re insatiable.” I groaned against his lips. His kiss was different, hungrier, wanting—like mine.

  His hands moved under my shirt, pushing it up but leaving it on. I thought he didn’t want to break our kiss. I didn’t want to either. He said yes. Right? He said yes to this, to us, to me? Was this really happening?

  His fingers cupped me, squeezing my tits gently as his lips answered my burning question. This was so much more than lust, more than confusion and desire. It was a connection that made love its only focus. Nurturing our doubts until they made as much sense as his lips on mine.

  “What the fuck?”

  Our lips stilled, our eyes opened, and our panic was swift. We both turned around at the same time to find Winter and Autumn standing inside the cabin. They were dressed from head to toe in snow gear; the opened door let fresh snow in, dropping silently to the floor and melting.

  “Dad?” Winter’s jaw unhinged. I pulled my shirt down, feeling everything inside of me drop. “Noelle?” She stepped around her mother, who simply stared at us like she was seeing an elf orgy. There were little dicks in places they shouldn’t be, and tiny nipple tassels swinging around. “Please tell me I didn’t see you doing what I thought you were doing.”

  “Oh, that?” I laughed uncomfortably. “I was trying to get something off his tonsils. Shouldn’t swallow things whole, Micha.”

  He glared down at me. “Not helping.”

  “This is not funny!” she screeched, making us both flinch. “I’ve been worried sick about you. Neither of your cells are on. The roads are blocked. I had no idea you’d even gotten here safely. And here I find you making out with my dad?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “What’s going on? What’s going on!” she screamed again, her fists bunched at her sides as Autumn watched the elves move on to naked cartwheels.

  Before we could answer, her eyes filled with tears. “Dad?” she asked, as smart as she was beautiful. “What did you do?”

  I despised how she blamed him. I was kissing him too. Of course, all she saw was her father with her best friend, a best friend, might I add, who hadn’t betrayed her once. But I’d just committed the biggest crime of our friendship, and there was no room to deny or argue innocence that didn’t exist.

  Micha’s face fell. “Win,” he started, but stopped. “I—” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at me. His eyes softened and he sighed, returning to his daughter. “Saying I’m sorry would be a lie, and I’d never do that to you, Win.”

  She gasped, shaking her head in disgust. She looked confused, like her brain couldn’t compute the things she’d seen with the feelings she felt. “Noe?” she beseeched, begging me to deny the truth she’d just seen.

  I couldn’t stand the sight of her hurting. I’d never been the product of her pain. I didn’t know what to say. “Can we sit down?”

  “No. I don’t want to sit down. I want to know why you were kissing my dad? My dad!”

  I flinched. “Winter, it’s not an easy explanation.”

  “Why not?” She couldn’t look at me suddenly. “Mom? Please take over. I can’t right now.” Winter took off out of the open door.

  Autumn looked at Micha, and then at me, and then she shook her head with an eerie smile. “Finally got what you wanted, didn’t you, Noe?”

  My heart dropped. “What?”

  “You didn’t think you could hide your feelings from me, did you? I saw the way you looked at him. The way your eyes were on him whe
never he was in the room. You’ve probably been waiting for our marriage to end.”

  “No, Autumn, it’s not like that—”

  “Don’t talk to her that way.” Micha stepped in front of me, blocking me from his ex-wife’s judgment. “You have no right.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. I’m the horrible wife who forgot how to love her husband. I cheated. You can’t hold that over my head forever, Micha. Not when you’re practically screwing your daughter.”

  He didn’t react other than to growl quietly. “I’m not holding anything over your head. I let you go, Autumn. You’re holding on to your guilt. You want me to be the bad guy, and now you have your proof.”

  She came more into the room. “How long were you fucking her, Micha?”

  He could defend himself now, set himself free. Instead, he remained still and spoke. “You and I weren’t together, that’s all you need to know. Now, Noelle and I are going to talk to Winter. You can have the fire. I know how much you like watching me burn.” He grabbed my boots by the fireplace and handed them off, taking my free hand. He led us out onto the porch, pausing for me to hop into my boots before we walked hand-in-hand down the deck for the embankment.

  My Prius was drenched in snow, his truck too. Autumn’s 4X4 was parked beside me. Winter paced in the snow, her boots squeaking with each stomp. Thankfully, I was in too much shock to feel the cold.

  I was holding Micha’s hand. In front of Winter. And my nipples were hard as rocks, threatening to break free of my shirt and run away screaming.

  What kind of nightmare was this? The beautiful torturous kind?

  “Turn the heater on, please, sweetheart.” Micha’s voice was softer, more reverent when he spoke to his daughter, the way it always was. “Give us a chance to explain. Noelle deserves it.”

  “She does?” Her wintry blue eyes looked like sharp shards aimed at my heart. But she opened the driver’s side door and got in anyway, slamming it shut with a growl.