by Sabrina Kade
“Hold on!” Azan rarely raises his voice, but it thunders. He’s probably worried about how desperate I look. “I don’t even know what this is, and you are trying to take it from me? Is this a part of your people’s traditions as well?”
“No!” My voice comes out like a squeak. “I haven’t made anything like this since I was in high school… sewing class. I got a B-. And now you can see why.” His eyes widen, but he keeps the gift away, and I slump again. Azan leans closer, but I flinch away. Of course I couldn’t do this right. I should have ordered something… Korben said I could. “It’s dumb, and I don’t care if you throw it away.”
Azan falls silent, curiously looking at the mass of dark red fabric in his hands. It’s poorly made, but I’m the one who made it and I’m damn proud. I don’t want to be hurt, but this thing took me hours, and not letting anyone figure it out what I’ve been up to was near impossible. To see him now, having no idea what I’ve spent hours making, kind of hurts and I’m about to leave the room—
“It’s a new mask?”
Butterflies explode in my stomach and I jerk around. Azan’s holding the long strings behind his head as though he’s about to tie it on. His eyes are so soft, and he’s being so delicate now that he’s figured out what I’ve made for him. He’s treasuring it. Even though he couldn’t figure out what it was at first, he’s figured it out now, and he looks upon the horribly stitched parcel as though it’s made of gold.
“York?” Azan tries again, leaning closer to me until his lips are practically at my ear. “It is a mask, yes?”
I try not to look like an idiot.
“Did you make this for me?” His voice has turned hushed, the one he used to use before he felt comfortable talking to me all of the time. He holds the mask out towards me. “You… Did you make this for me? As a Christmas gift?”
“Well, yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “I know you don’t like to wear one around me now, but I know you’re most comfortable wearing one around the others. And I thought… it would be nice if it was homemade. By me.” I lick my lips. “I know it’s not as pretty as yours but—” I can’t finish my sentence because Azan’s lips have slammed into mine. It’s a beautiful kiss, so full of love and desire. I moan deeply. Azan’s still holding the mask even as his fingers brush against the back of my neck and I love him even more, knowing he’s not ready to let his gift go yet.
Once I’m finally able to come up for air, Azan’s still clutching the new mask. He inspects it closely, bringing it up to his incredible golden eyes, flickering back and forth between me.
“It’s beautiful, York. I cannot believe you made this for me.”
“Well, it’s Christmas.” I know I’ve grown a little shy, but how can I not? “And I’ve Chosen you, just like you’ve Chosen me. Your mask is one of the only things from your world I was able to make. I couldn’t exactly make you a new blanket or shorts. I’d have to measure your dick to make sure I make them right, and though I wouldn’t have minded, I’m sure you would have known I was up to something.”
“So how did you measure this?”
“I took your other mask while you were sleeping. I traced the shape over a flat rock.” I beam proudly. “And I talked to Korben, asking him for fabric and thread. I’m sure he knew what I was up to, but he pretended not to notice. And I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“Amazing. Now I am worried my gifts will not be enough.”
My eyes shoot up. “Gifts? You’re already ahead of the game, babe.”
“We shall see.”
“I guess this means… you like your gift?” I hate how insecure I sound, but I had no idea how nervous seeing Azan scrutinizing my gift would make me. It reminds me of getting a midterm or final back in high school. Deep down, I knew I would pass, but I never was sure by how much. And in my family, there was a world of difference between an A and a B.
“There is only one thing – er, two things now, that I could possibly treasure more than this gift.” He pulls me into his arms again. “My Chosen. And my sprog.” I wrap my arms around his neck, and Azan’s already as excited as I am. I press the insides of my thighs against his throbbing dick, already gliding in the wetness between us.
I love this man.
So fucking much.
Azan’s as greedy for this as I am, pushing his tongue between my lips so we can dance together. Mouth to mouth. It’s amazing that my man was a virgin before this, he’s so experienced and sexy, even now. I used to think I would have to teach him everything, but now I’m pretty sure he’s teaching me.
The student has become the master.
My heart beats more quickly as Azan lowers me to the bed on my back, but not before he’s laid the new mask out on the table with the greatest of care. Watching him handle the mask, I can hardly wait to see him with a sprog in his hand.
And shit, there it is. Now I’m calling babies, sprogs.
Azan’s touch grows greedier, and I tear away at my top, wanting to set my breasts free. They’ve grown in size, yes, but they’ve also grown sore, so I’m happy when he kneads them gently with one hand. I moan, arching my back, hungry for each little touch my man is willing to give me. My nipples have grown hard like crystals, and I wonder if the sun rayers will reflect against the light like a Christmas tree. I snicker as Azan’s mouth lowers over my breast and he cups my mound with a sturdy hand.
“Wet for me,” he hisses. “Like always.”
“Only for you,” I remind him. I take his face in my hands, pulling him closer and land needy kisses between the massive fangs. They’re capped like always, but I can’t resist brushing my tongue over the little metal shot glasses covering the sharp tips. The spicy, sweet scent of his arousal hits my nostrils and I all but come right there.
“I seriously need to melt your spunk and make a candle.”
“My Chosen, you are speaking nonsense,” Azan mutters while working my nipples between a finger a thumb.
Perhaps to him, I am, but I know the words I’m saying make perfect sense.
After a few moments, Azan does my favorite thing other than straight up fucking, using his finger within my sex.
“Ohhh…” I moan, curling my fingers around his massive shoulder. “I didn’t think… you already gave me a gift. It’s my turn…”
“You can give me anything you want tomorrow,” Azan growls. “Tomorrow is Christmas. Tomorrow is your day. For now, allow this one to be mine.” His finger continues to glide in and out of my folds, creating a slick and slippery sound that only makes Azan want more. I see the shift in his eyes immediately. I know that look. I love that look. I long for that look.
In and out his fingers go, and eventually he returns to tending to my mouth with kisses. A scaled tongue works against mine, brushing against the roof of my mouth and I’m losing control. There’s nothing like that sensation. It’s ticklish. It makes me laugh, but it also brings me so close to the edge. He moves his mouth away from mine, and I almost pant with need until his face drops once again, peppering me on the cheeks, jaw, and collarbone. I’m so desperate. I’m always wanting more and as much as I’m feeling guilty that he’s pleasing me and not the other way around, I know Christmas is only a day away.
And then it’s my fucking time to shine.
“I need you,” I gasp.
“You have me.”
“No, babe. Your dick. I need your dick. Inside of me. Now.”
“Have you been a good woman?” he asks, mixing up his Christmas sayings as always. “Shall I give you a package in your box?”
It’s so naughty. Dirty and sweet, and I love it, nodding greedily as Azan removes his massive cock from his shorts and tosses them aside. He doesn’t bother being careful like he did with the mask I made for him and that makes me even more aroused. His cool skin lands against mine, still working his fingers between my thighs, but I can’t wait any longer, practically grinding my pussy against his hand until he gets the damn message. A groan escapes. A sexy smile appears, and he rem
oves his fingers.
Something thicker teases my entrance. The dripping wet crown of his cock gently kisses my entrance.
I forcefully grab his shoulders, all but forcing him to thrust his dick inside of me. The scales splay away from the soft skin and I cry out, always feeling like a virgin, even to this day. I swear, the man’s impregnated me, and it still feels like the first time, every time.
“Don’t toy with me,” I pant hungrily. “It’s my gift. Give me your package.” Oh God, I’m almost as lame as he is, but I don’t care. I love this. I love him.
“Your stomach is getting larger,” Azan groans. “Not that I’m complaining. We may have to switch positions next time.”
I purr. “Are you saying you want to try doggy style with me?”
“Doggy… style?”
His expression shifts as he pumps harder into me, barely able to keep a conversation going. My words could be Chinese, and he’d never know the difference. And it doesn’t matter. Azan’s twitching. He’s going to come. Soon. I fall silent, not wanting to spoil the moment – fucking my man on Christmas Eve, and each thrust is more delicious than the last. I feel so small and cared for in his muscular arms, and I’m not going to last for long.
I know my man’s body almost as well as my own.
Azan’s voice drops to a sexy hiss. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The shared orgasm hits us like a violent wave, chilled from the late summer air. I gasp his name out, and he’s calling for me as we shiver and shake together, and my pussy pulls his dick in for one last Christmas Eve hug and falls away entirely. The scent of sage and pine fills the air as his chilled seed fills me inside, and spills between my folds onto the blankets. I’m raw and utterly spent after each fuck session, and this one proves to be no different as he pulls his cock out from my pussy and falls back to his side of the bed, panting with a small smile on his face.
It’s not even Christmas, and I’ve already received the best gift of all.
“You’re incredible, babe.” I’m still breathing hard as I snuggle closer into Azan’s chest, inhaling the deep, intoxicating scent of his sweat.
“You are the incredible one.” Azan sounds as though he couldn’t mean his words more before he lifts his hand and retrieves the mask on the side of the bed. He twirls the fabric around his long, graceful fingers. “I never imagined you would make me a gift. I must admit I am a little worried…”
“You said that already, and I told you, you have nothing to worry about. I’m going to love whatever you are willing to give me. Fuck, Azan, if that sex session was my gift, I’d consider this the greatest Christmas ever.”
Azan chuckles, the warm, throaty sound making me tingle once again.
“You must tell me in greater detail what you meant. You do not have to tell me now, or on Christmas. But you must explain yourself at a later date.”
My eyebrows knit together. “Tell you what?”
“About the change in sex positions. I believe you referred to it as dogus style.”
I break out into laughter, convinced I’ll never be happier than I am in this moment. Right now. With Azan.
“Doggy style, Azan.” I’m still laughing. “If you’re a good little boy, we can give that gift to each other tomorrow night.”
***
It’s Christmas. It’s Christmas on Earth, and even though I’m on Hethdiss, a planet filled with exiled Sidyths, it’s motherfucking December twenty-fifth and the day of the Christmas celebration has finally arrived.
I open my eyes slowly at first, feeling around on the bed for my man, but when I grab nothing but bunched blankets, I sit up, startled that something’s happened.
A choked cry escapes my lips.
Azan’s there. Standing at the foot of the bed with a long strip of bark wrapped around his chest. But the bark isn’t alone. There are little glass-like jars hanging throughout the length.
And in those tiny glass jars are… lightning bugs?
“Are those alive?” I blink stupidly, trying to piece together what I’m seeing, but the only word that makes sense is lightning bugs. There’s about five per tiny jar and fluttering and blinking pale pink lights as they move. “Where did you…”
“The lagoon. I saw these hanging around the lagoon waters. Korben and I worked together to catch them. He only took a few so he could string them up for his mate, but I wanted to create this for you.”
“Create this…” My own personal Christmas tree. Only my man’s smile could put the Rockefeller tree to shame because no Christmas tree has a branch as long and as beautiful as my alien’s. He remains silent as I sit up fully in bed, still blinking as though I can’t believe this isn’t a dream, and when Azan cocks his head to the side, I can’t help but frown.
Beautiful or not, he’s still a Sidyth. And I just want to make sure…
“That doesn’t hurt them or anything, does it?”
Azan shakes his head. “No. They will be alright. After Christmas Korben and I will release them back to the lagoon.” With another deep bob of his head, I notice something else that’s different.
He’s wearing a Santa hat. Sure, it’s not perfect, but it’s got a furry part at the bottom and a dark red part at the top that comes to a point at the end with a furry ball at the tip. Oh God, he’s Santa Claus and a Christmas tree at the same time. The day has barely begun, and I’m ready to call off the whole thing to spend the day in bed with my man.
“You look… insatiable, babe.” I can’t help the hushed tone in my voice, crawling to the edge of our bed and brushing my fingertips against Azan’s chest. I tug absently at the string, surprised he was able to figure this all out himself. “Who told you how to do this?” I ask with a hint of suspicion in my voice.
“I had help.” He beams as though he’s never been prouder of himself. “But it is a secret.”
A violent blush hits my cheeks. I can only imagine the awkward conversations he must have had with either Blythe, Celeste, Phoebe or Layla. Oh lord, maybe he even had to talk to Sloane. That must have been… eye-opening. I smile harder, unable to stop touching him, more grateful than ever that the best man on this planet belongs to me and only me.
“You never stop surprising me,” I say, pulling him close so I can press my lips against him. “Please don’t ever stop.”
“I don’t plan to. I know you like things different. Otherwise, you get bored.” He wraps his arms around my waist, kissing me more deeply and I swear we’re back to where we finished last night all over again.
“We should go to the Gathering Room,” I moan, curling my fingers through his overgrown pale hair.
“Why?”
“Because it’s Christmas?”
“Is Christmas a time mates don’t spend together?” He nibbles delicately at the sweet spot behind the top of my ear, and my knees fail me. I collapse into Azan’s arms, and he easily lifts me off the bed, keeping my feet off the ground.
“It’s a family holiday.”
“And the other women? They are your family?”
There’s a sharp pain of guilt. No, they aren’t my family. Not exactly, but this day wasn’t supposed to be only for Azan and me. It never was. And the other girls have worked so hard – even Blythe between her puking sessions. And though I’m still not sure what the hell is wrong with Ellis, I’m sure she has her reasons for not being around so much.
Lately though, I’m getting more and more nervous about what could shake up Ellis so much.
Azan clears his throat, and I’m embarrassed for taking so long to answer.
“No, you’re my family, Azan. You and our baby.” I rub my stomach while in Azan’s arms, and he gently sets me on my feet next to my clothes. “Everyone’s worked so hard, you know? Making this holiday happen. It doesn’t seem right that we hang out in the room. Glykoran and Celeste have made dinner and there are presents for everyone. We may have even missed most of the good stuff.”
His smile brightens. “All the more reason we sh
ould stay here!”
I tug on his arm. “Not happening, bub. Come on. We’re going.”
His smile doesn’t dim in the slightest. In fact, he turns away and reaches for his new red mask, tying it on with pride written all over his muscular features.
My walking Christmas tree.
“I’ll make it worth your while, babe.” I wink at Azan before tugging him towards the Gathering Room. “And in case I don’t say it later, Merry Christmas. That’s the traditional greeting for today.”
“Ahh. Merry Christmas, My Chosen.”
So far, no dick in a box.
Maybe this will be the perfect Christmas.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ellis
I told Hujun I wouldn’t mind if we missed the entirety of Christmas, but he insisted I would regret it. I’m sure he’s right, but I don’t want to admit that to him. It’s bad enough my pride’s been wounded because of my stupidity. And now I have to walk into the Gathering Room and act like everything’s fine. Like I haven’t almost been raped by a visiting Sidyth – the same one who delivered all the Christmas items that have brought so much joy and familiarity to this day.
I try to remember this day isn’t about me and my fucking problems.
This is about the girls. All of us. Finding something to celebrate together.
Finding beauty in a universe of nightmares.
Merry fucking Christmas.
I have to admit though; York and the rest of the girls have brought this whole thing together. Walking into the Gathering Room, other than it smells like coconuts, it’s not a bad set up. There are makeshift Christmas lights and a huge palm tree strung with lights and ornaments. Most of the girls are hustling and bustling around like busy wives, all holding at least one wrapped gift in their hands and shoving them into the nervous and curious arms of the Sidyths.
It kind of reminds me of a middle school dance where all the boys are horny and excited but have no idea how to have sex, or even talk to a girl, for that matter.