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Mischief Under The Mistletoe

Page 21

by Maren Smith


  He pressed her down into position, his big body behind hers blocking any hope of escape. She felt him grab a handful of her skirt and raise it. The hem slid up her legs. He lifted it, spreading it out over her back, exposing her bare bottom fully. Her hands were clammy against the leather upholstery. She felt him grab her hair, undoing the clip that held it up, letting the tresses fall free around her face, before grabbing a handful of her locks tight in his fist, tugging gently.

  “This is what happens to naughty little girls who get so wet, they saturate their knickers,” he scolded in a low growl, the rumbling tone sending tingles to the very core of her that already burned for his touch.

  Smack! Smack! His flattened palm branded each cheek separately and she gasped at the sting. Smack! Smack!

  The same hand that scorched her ass slid between her legs now, cupping her pussy, slapping lightly, drumming two fingers against her clit in a quick staccato beat. He dipped his fingers inside her, teasing her, coating his fingers in her juices. He held his hand up close to her face.

  “Smell yourself,” he whispered. “You’re so wet.”

  He wiped the back of his hand over her bottom, spreading her wetness down the cleft between her cheeks, then slapped her ass again, twice more, softer this time. A low moan filled her throat when his hand landed against her smarting flesh in another soft spank, a loving caress that brought her right to the edge of the precipice.

  “Get in the car, princess,” he ordered huskily.

  Clay drove them to a secluded spot beside the river, lit only by the glow of the moon. They were so close to the water the sound of the current rushing swiftly over the rocks carried in through the wound up windows.

  She needed him.

  Unbuckling her seatbelt, she reached for his pants, fumbling momentarily, then tugged at the layers of fabric, finally freeing his cock. It stood huge, erect, waiting for her, in the moonlight, the moon illuminating the sticky droplets oozing from him. She leaned forward and licked him, tasting him, then drew him into her mouth completely, closing her lips around his thick shaft. She ran her tongue over the head, lapping up his moisture, her tongue swirling and sucking with reckless abandon as she cupped his balls in her hand.

  She blew across the tip of his wet cock before she straightened up, the tight confines of the small space making her stiff.

  She didn’t need to be told to hop out when he reached across her and opened up her door, nor did she need to be told to bend over in the same position as before, when he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, his hand between her shoulder blades pushing her down.

  The evening air was cool on her hot skin as he raised her skirt for the second time that evening, before landing six quick smacks to her butt, hard enough to make her yelp. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to breathe. All she wanted was him. Before the sting had dissipated, he drove himself into her from behind, impaling her on his thick cock, grasping her hips and pulling her backwards onto him, in tandem with his own rhythmic thrusts. She rocked her pelvis in time with his, pressing her body up against his, offering herself to him and he took her wantonly, urgently, fucking her roughly.

  One hand entwined in her hair and tugged, pulling her head back to look up at the night sky. The other hand slapped her left buttock, hard, tipping her over the edge completely. The stars above her blurred into one and she arched her back and cried out as his hot seed spilled inside her, filling her. He shuddered behind her, collapsing against her, one strong hand against the doorframe taking his weight as the other slowly let go of her hair.

  Breathing heavily, he stood up, and she swivelled around underneath him so she was facing him. She loved the look he always got in his eyes right after sex: they sparkled.

  He pulled her knickers out of his pocket and shook them out, handing them to her.

  “You can put these back on now princess,” he murmured. “They’re still wet, you wanton little girl.” He winked, the rakish expression making his whole face light up.

  Her heart glowing, she tiptoed to kiss him full on his chapped lips, her eyes locking with his.

  “I love you, Clay,” she whispered.

  He squeezed her bottom. “And I love you, my girl.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE CHRISTMAS MUSIC blaring through the overhead speakers hit them as soon as the automatic doors opened at their approach. After circling the carpark for close to ten minutes trying to find a park, they were all grouchy. But the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer lyrics cheered Bianca, Jen and Luke up immediately, and Jen and Bianca linked arms and moved to the beat of the music, swaying their hips rhythmically, as Jen fixed her eyes on one of the two men she loved. Her eyes sparked with passion as she looked up at the tall, ruggedly handsome man, and Bianca smiled. She’d never completely understood the dynamic of Jen’s relationship with Luke and Cody Lewis, Clay’s brothers, but looking at the love in her eyes now, she was clearly happy in her role as little girl, and lover, to the two men.

  “I’ve got shopping of my own to do,” Luke told them, “so I’ll meet up with you soon. And you girls behave yourselves, righto? Don’t give me an excuse to smack your butts as red as Rudolph’s nose.” He looked down at them sternly and a shiver went down Bianca’s spine. He’d do it too; she knew he would. She’d been on the receiving end of Luke’s hard, calloused palm several times before, and it had never been a particularly pleasant experience. Luke was easily the strictest of the three Lewis brothers, and his punishments were always the harshest.

  “Of course, we’ll be good, won’t we Bianca?” Jen winked.

  “Of course. When are we ever anything else?” She smiled up at Luke sweetly and batted her eyelashes, trying to make herself the picture of innocence. “Although the deal with Clay for him to be Santa is that I have to be his naughty elf. And naughty elves do naughty things. But I’ll try to be good.”

  “Really?” Luke raised an eyebrow at her.

  Bianca’s spine continued to tingle as Luke fixed her with a stern stare. He was so much like Clay! Although not as ruggedly handsome as her husband, the way Luke’s shaggy blonde hair was falling in his eyes just now, and the way his deep voice rumbled through her in such a dominant way, he could just about pass for him.

  “You’d better do more than try,” he growled in an undertone. “Because I’m just as good as Santa is, at spanking naughty elves.”

  “Yes, daddy,” she heard Jen breathe.

  “Yes, Uncle Luke. We’ll be good. Promise.”

  Luke winked, tweaked her nose, then bent down to kiss Jen possessively on the lips, his hand on her back staking his claim. “You’d better,” he said.

  Shopping with Jen was fun—Bianca couldn’t remember when she’d last laughed so much! Within the first hour, they’d found the perfect presents for the men in their lives, several rolls of Christmas-themed gift wrap, curling ribbon and tape.

  “Here, try this out.”

  Bianca took the proffered pen and pressed the top to expose the nib, leaning forward to the pad of provided paper, intending to test it out.

  “Ouch!” she shrieked, shaking her hand, as electricity zapped up her arm. “Ow! You evil woman!” she laughed, slapping her friend on the arm. “That is cruel!”

  Jens’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “But perfect for the staff gifts, yes?”

  Only if you’re my naughty elf. Clay’s voice rang in her ears as she held up the shock pen Jen had found. Being a naughty elf was right up her alley! And what could be naughtier than giving work colleagues a pen that zapped them, as a joke Christmas present?

  “Yes! You’re a genius!” She just hoped the staff would take the joke gifts in the spirit they were intended—as fun. And hopefully, if they didn’t, the generous hamper the Lewis family always gifted each one would more than make up for the lingering tingling in their arms that the shock gifts would impart.

  The little shop was full of quirky gift ideas, and before long, Jen and Bianca had chosen a present for each staff member, a
nd one each for Cody, Luke and Clay, as well.

  “We’re going to get in so much trouble,” Bianca murmured. Her butt clenched involuntarily; it was still a bit tender from Clay’s hard hand.

  “We’re naughty elves,” Jen reminded her. “We’re supposed to get in trouble! That’s the whole point!”

  “Well yes,” Bianca conceded. “But I really don’t want another punishment spanking. I got one just a couple of days ago and I’m still a bit sore. A fun spanking is all I need.”

  Jen’s eyes were filled with compassion as she touched Bianca’s shoulder. Ordinarily, Bianca didn’t broadcast it to anyone that she got spanked, but with Jen it was different, because Jen got spanked too. She understood.

  “We’ll just be a little bit naughty then, aye? Just enough to live up to our roles.”

  CLAY LOOKED AS HOT as she knew he would, in his Santa suit. The red velvet pants clung to his ass, outlining his spectacular muscles as he walked. The jacket had no buttons and was held together simply by a wide black belt, so it splayed open at the front revealing his naked chest, the white fur trim, framing his tanned six-pack. The fluffy white beard he’d tacked on, and the red Santa hat perched crookedly atop his head completed the look, and as he pulled on his black boots, she nearly swooned. Once again, she wished she could wolf-whistle. Who knew Christmas could be so sexy?

  He handed her a green, white and red bundle with a smirk. “Jen has an identical one. I think it will look cute on you. And don’t go getting any ideas about adding a jacket or anything—I want you dressed exactly as it is. My elf is going to be sexy and naughty.”

  Shaking out the costume, she gulped. It wasn’t going to cover much.

  “Put it on.”

  Green and white striped long socks reached to just above her knee and were finished off with a red bow at the top. The sleeveless elf dress was green with red fur trim across the collar and shoulder straps. A wide belt cinched in her narrow waist and the skirt flared out beneath it, the green zig-zag hem over a red tulle underskirt that was so short it just reached mid-thigh, leaving a gap of bare skin between the top of her socks and the hem of the dress. From behind his back, Clay produced a pair of shiny black patent leather Mary Jane buckle-up shoes. He smiled proudly at her. “My little girl needs little girl shoes to go with her naughty elf costume,” Clay whispered. “Spin around.”

  She obeyed, twirling on the spot, feeling the full skirt fly out around her thighs. Clay whistled appreciatively. “You’re gorgeous, princess.”

  Her breath caught in her throat as Clay leaned forward and kissed her, plopping a crooked red Santa hat on her head at the same time. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered.

  They broke apart to a knock on the door. Just one knock, then the door swung open and Cody walked into their kitchen. “You two ready?” he asked. “Everything’s done, Jen’s dressed up, you two need to get your asses out there. Santa and his elves need to make an appearance.”

  JEN, CLAY AND BIANCA had left Luke in charge of delegating duties to ensure everything was taken care of before the staff morning tea aka Christmas party. The normal morning duties had already been mostly done before they’d left: the horses had been ridden and stables mucked; there’d just been a couple of horses to hose off and put out in paddocks, and the barn still had to be swept. But as they stood on the threshold looking in, it was apparent that everything had been finished. Fold-out trestle tables draped in festive table cloths were laid out with a no-expense-spared catered morning tea including both sweet and savoury snacks a bowl of dark red cherries and another of decadent chocolate-dipped strawberries. The other table held plastic champagne flutes, bottles of champagne, and a bowl of punch with a dipper wrapped in red and green ribbon. On a tray in front of the punch bowl stood several lines of green and red vodka jellies, in plastic disposable shot glasses, that Bianca had insisted on making yesterday afternoon.

  Clay cleared his throat. He was Santa, like it or not, and he had to play his part.

  “Ho, ho, ho!” his deep voice boomed as he strode down the wide aisle of the barn, to the hay bale under the Christmas tree that was to be his throne. Jen and Bianca had been up ‘til nearly midnight last night decorating the pine tree Cody had chopped down for them, and Luke had ended up coming down to the barn and threatening to spank them both in order to get them to bed. But they were in fine form this morning, despite their lack of sleep, as they held hands and danced a crazy waltz together up the aisle of the barn toward the party, singing “Rockin’ round the Christmas tree have a happy holiday...” at the top of their lungs to the accompanying Christmas CD blaring from the stereo.

  A cheer erupted as he made his way through the staff gathered around the food tables, glasses in hand, and took his seat on the hay bale. He looked out over his mingling staff, the camaraderie he’d worked so hard to instil, evident now as they traded laughs and clinked plastic glasses together.

  He watched, debating whether or not to stop her, as Jen emptied the contents of a silver hip flask into the bowl of punch. The little minx! Didn’t she care that some of the staff here didn’t drink? He shook his head and smiled. He’d have a discreet word to the ones who needed to know... the others could just have a good time. And it seemed they were—there was a definite festive spirit to the air, mostly thanks to Jen and Bianca’s decorating, and the food and drink continued to flow freely, lightening up the conversation, leading to gales of laughter and merriment. He didn’t know why they’d never had a staff Christmas party before, but it was clearly good for staff morale.

  The mischievous smile on Bianca’s face when she picked up the basket of perfectly wrapped gifts next to his feet, should have told him something was up. But instead, he got distracted, deep in conversation with one of the track riders, as Jen and Bianca, their arms linked, moved through the people, distributing gifts from the basket.

  “Thanks,” Dave, the track rider he was talking to, said, flashing Jen a happy smile. Clay watched as the other man unwrapped an elegant, shiny silver pen, then snorted in laughter when Dave swore, dropping the pen and shaking his hand.

  “They gave me a shock pen!” he exclaimed, bending down to pick it up then examining it.

  Clay turned around. Jen and Bianca had distributed most of their gifts now, and if their mischievous smiles were any indication, they were pretty pleased with themselves. Some people held pens, others held lighters, but it seemed the presents all had one thing in common: electric shocks.

  The zapping pens didn’t seem to affect anyone’s mood though; drink still flowed, the piles of finger foods artfully arranged on the holly-sprig decorated plates dwindled, and the barn was alive with laughter and conversation. A small group of people were at the back of the barn where there was more room, dancing a lively Macarena, led by Jen and Bianca.

  Half an hour later, he looked around. Where were Jen and Bianca now? There, right at the back, the two little figures dressed in green were trying to be inconspicuous as they crouched down next to a closed stable half-door, fiddling with something. What on earth were they up to? He knew it would be something naughty—the two of them together always struggled to be good—but he didn’t want to ruin their party by questioning them. He was Santa, after all—meant to be the life of the party.

  Bang! The loud crack sounded like a rifle shot and echoed through the barn, making everyone jump, and the person closest to the sound squealed in fright. Clay looked – one of the female stable hands was covered in streamers, courtesy of the party popper the naughty elves had pulled. He caught Bianca’s eye and she winked at him slyly, before pulling the string of another party popper, right behind another stablehand. The poor lad jumped a mile, streamers landing in his hair, his spilled drink wetting his shirt. Clay narrowed his eyes and shook his head, silently telling her ‘no’. But she didn’t listen. She understood his instruction, he knew she did—she met his gaze and smiled at him cheekily—but instead of obeying, she pulled the string of another party popper, crouching down to let off the
bang right between the legs of one of the track riders.

  That was it. He shook his head and put down his drink, intending to put a stop to her naughtiness but before he could, Cody grabbed the elves, scooping up one under each arm, and indicated that he sit back down.

  “Who wants to see these naughty elves get their comeuppance?” he shouted, his voice drowning out the conversation that had come mostly to a halt around him.

  Clay watched his staff as his brother looked around, holding tightly to the squirming elves who were clinging to his pants legs, looking somewhat terrified. A couple of the newer staff members looked a bit bewildered, but everyone else looked amused.

  “No! Everyone will see! Put us down!” Jen shrieked.

  “I don’t think so, naughty little elves,” Cody growled. “I’m taking you to Santa, so he can spank your naughty bottoms. Come on people!” he shouted. “You’ve all been the recipients of naughty presents and party poppers... who wants to see these naughty elves get what they deserve?”

  There was a loud cheer as the tipsier ones in the gathering yelled their approval and the crowd parted as Cody carted his still-squirming cargo toward the Christmas tree. Luke met him there and took first Bianca, then Jen, and draped them unceremoniously over Clay’s red velvet covered thighs.

  He held them still as they giggled and squirmed, their short dresses riding right up their thighs, barely covering what they needed to. He couldn’t get much of a swing up because Bianca was lying on the hem of his jacket, but it didn’t matter; this spanking wasn’t meant to hurt much. He slapped first Jen then Bianca, three swats each, the thick tulle underskirt absorbing most of the impact. But still, they squealed.

  “You told me I had to be your naughty elf! How can I be your naughty elf if I don’t do naughty things?” Bianca yelled in protest, laughter evident in her voice.

  “Santa spanks naughty elves,” he heard himself growl. “That’s just the way it is.”

 

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