by Allysa Hart
I inhaled deeply, anticipating the warmth of her lips around my tip, and shuddered when she smiled and took me in her mouth.
I was in bliss for two full seconds before she frowned and pulled back in surprise.
“Oh! You taste like candy canes!”
“Do I?” I chuckled. “Well, they are my favorite food group. I eat a lot of them.”
“No, I mean you taste exactly like a candy cane. It’s not like a hint or an essence. Your dick is practically candy coated. Like for real.”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, but it must be a job hazard, or a perk, depending on how you feel about peppermint, I guess.”
“I love it.” Ending the conversation, she took me in her mouth and began to blow me with more enthusiasm than I would have dreamed possible. Folding my hands behind my head, I leaned back, thrusting my hips out so as to push myself farther into her mouth.
Her tongue traced circles up my dick as she licked and sucked to her heart’s content. She was slow and thorough, savoring every inch of my candy stick. I was enjoying every moment of her exploration.
She took me deeper into her mouth until my balls were touching her chin, and I moaned in ecstasy when she increased the pressure and gave my sack a soft squeeze. I closed my eyes and threw my head back, moaning. If she didn’t stop, this was going to be over before it started. Blasted peppermint dick.
I grabbed her hair with both hands and used it as leverage, slowly pulling her off me while thoroughly enjoying every second of her lips sliding down my cock. When she got to the tip, she blinked up at me with a pouty smile and wide eyes.
“Get up here,” I growled, helping her to her feet by her hair. When she was standing, I grabbed her hips and pulled her body against mine, relishing the feel of her female softness against my own hard hairiness. My lips closed over hers with far less gentleness than our previous kiss. I was rough and demanding as I claimed her lips with as much ferocity as she had claimed my cock. My need for her was feral and unforgiving, a wicked side effect of the weekend’s pent-up sexual tension.
I had no patience left and no desire to take things slowly, but no desire to rush things, either.
This was no hot and heavy one-night stand. If I played my cards right, this woman would be my wife, and I wanted our first time together to be special.
Panting through my arousal, I broke our kiss and pulled her body close to mine. “I think it’s time to move this to the bedroom.”
Her breathing was shallow as she nodded her agreement, and we could hardly keep our hands off each other as we made the short journey down the hallway to her room. We didn’t bother to close the door before we stumbled over to the bed and fell onto it, side by side.
We lay there naked, staring at each other while we caught our breath. Then we inhaled simultaneously and almost head-butted into each other as we leapt forward, closing the space between us. In only a minute, we were a crazy tangle of sweaty limbs. My hands were all over her, and hers were all over me. I kissed and licked every inch of exposed skin, exploring every curve, and savoring each and every point of contact, committing it to memory. She was exquisite.
She moaned and writhed under my touch. When my lips closed over her soft mound, her moans intensified before turning to whimpers.
“Santa, please.”
“Please what?”
She raked her nails up my back and grabbed at my shoulders. “Please. I want you. Your cock. Please. Now.”
Just hearing her say cock had me ready to bust a chestnut, and I hurried to oblige, scooting up the bed to cover her body with mine. I started to thrust myself into her but was pleasantly surprised when she rolled over and climbed on top, straddling me. She poised her hips above me, hovering her soft pussy at the tip of my cock, teasing me until I was the one whimpering with need.
“Get your sweet little pussy on me and give me some of that sugar,” I growled, reaching back to give her ass a hearty slap. She jumped, impaling herself onto my cock. I grinned.
“Now I’ve got you right where I want you.”
“Took you long enough.”
We started out slow, but soon our lovemaking reached a frenzy. It felt so good inside her, and I loved to watch her perfect breasts jiggle inside the red satin as she rode my cock like it was her job.
My hands rested on her perfect ass, grabbing hold and using her body to plunge deeper into her soft folds. She felt like heaven.
I thrust into her, watching the ecstasy on her face as we came together, and trying to stave off my own orgasm.
But she was too gorgeous, and it was too perfect, and it had been too long. I pushed the pads of my fingers into the soft flesh of her ass as I came, screaming her name.
We came simultaneously, and instead of screaming Yule, this little minx cried out, “Santa Daddy!”
If I hadn’t come already, I would have then.
“Wow,” I panted, rolling over on the bed to face my naked Santa. “Well, that’s one way to end the weekend.”
“We still have hours yet, before I have to go.” Santa leaned up on the bed, resting an elbow on the mattress and his chin on one hand. “Are you hungry, little elf? You didn’t really eat dinner.”
I was starving, but I didn’t want him to leave my bed. I was about to say no, but the way he was peering at me twisted up my insides. In the nick of time, I remembered his stupid mind-reading skills. I sighed.
“I could eat,” I admitted. “But I don’t want to get up, and I don’t want you to, either.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret, little elf,” he whispered, leaning in close. “I wouldn’t leave this bed right now for all the cocoa and candy canes in the world.”
I giggled, suddenly feeling more six than thirty-one, and Santa snapped his fingers. I blinked and waited to see what treats he would conjure up this time. Two steaming mugs of cocoa appeared on the nightstand, and a pizza box sat on the bed between us. I clapped my hands in excitement then rolled my eyes at myself and how little I felt all of a sudden.
Santa smiled, opening the box, and grabbing up a hot slice dripping with melted cheese. He offered it to me, and I took it happily.
“Looks like I chose well.”
I didn’t respond. I was too busy shoving pizza into my mouth. I was suddenly famished from our activities, and I quickly inhaled that slice and a second one.
“You’re not eating,” I accused between mouthfuls.
“I ate my dinner.”
“I had a different kind of hunger on my mind, I guess,” I quipped, closing the pizza box and moving it off of the bed so I could lay my head on his chest.
“I guess so.” He was quiet for a second, stroking my hair. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his brain. “Did you have a good weekend, little elf? Did that help, do you think?”
I sat up suddenly, took a deep breath and stock of my feelings. I could still feel a twinge of tenderness in my ass if I shifted just right, but the rest of me felt lighter somehow, like pain had been lifted. It felt crazy to admit that. A lump formed in my throat when I even thought about voicing it. And I knew that Santa was probably reading my mind anyway. I sighed.
“I’m going to miss it all, I think. And you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, little elf. Well, tonight I am, eventually. But I’ll be back, and soon. We don’t have much time you know.”
I rolled my eyes as I did every time he made thinly veiled references to the impending doom of Christmas that he claimed would happen if I didn’t agree to become his Mrs. Claus.
“You’re awfully presumptuous, you know,” I grumbled, hiding a smile. “And bossy.”
“It’s not presumption. It’s destiny.” He winked, taking my hand in his. “It’s what is meant to be, little elf. And it may be a little crazy, and it may be a little fast, but that’s only part of the magic of Christmas. You can’t have a magical Christmas without a Mrs. Claus, and the love story between Santa and the Mrs.… Well, that’s what builds the Christmas magic.”
I scowled and pulled my hand away. “God, you’re corny, you know that? You’re just a big velvety ball of Christmas corniness sometimes.”
“Yep. And you, my dear, are a master at changing the subject.”
“What am I supposed to say? I’ve known you for like four days! How am I supposed to sit here and discuss a future with you? A future that involves me somehow morphing into this perfect specimen of Christmas cheer, no less? How can I possibly consider any of that without questioning my very sanity?”
“Because you know what we have is good. It may be crazy and a bit unconventional, but it’s good. And the sex we had? That was more than good, little elf. It was magical.”
My cheeks burned at the memory of how wild I had gotten in my pursuit of him. Him and his candy-cane-flavored dick. But it wasn’t only the sex that had me hiding my face in embarrassment, it was the whole weekend and how much I had thoroughly enjoyed it all, even the little stuff.
I sat there biting my tongue, trying to stop my lips from speaking the words my brain was thinking, and finally I blurted them out. “If everything you say is true, and we are destined to be together, and I eventually become your Mrs. Claus… Could I sometimes be six again? Not like, all the time, just, ya know, sometimes.” My hands still covered my face, but I peeked through my fingers and could feel my skin heating as I grew more flushed with each word I spoke.
Santa’s large hands covered mine, gently pulling them down, exposing more than just my physical self to his knowing gaze. I scrunched my eyes closed.
“Open your eyes and look at me, little elf.”
I opened one eye. His expression was gentle, full of compassion and mirth. “We are destined to be together,” he began. “And you will be my Mrs. Claus.”
I rolled my one open eye before he continued.
“And we can absolutely do it again, and soon. You still have to experience a childlike Christmas morning, you know. The experience isn’t really complete without it.”
My other eye opened, and I breathed a sigh of relief at his kind and encouraging words. At least one of us didn’t think the other one was crazy.
“I’m the good kind of crazy,” Yule interjected, reading my mind again.
“If you say so.”
“I do. Now get over here and give me a kiss. I have to leave soon.”
“Ho, ho, ho!” I walked down the aisles of the toy workshop, watching the elves man the conveyor belts. They could build an average of a toy a minute, but even with a hundred elves, we put in long days.
“Looking good, Elmer.”
“Great work, Amelia.”
“Nice truck, Bobby!”
Each elf I addressed beamed up at me for a second before returning their attention to their work. The elves took toymaking very seriously. More so than any of the rest of their jobs, and there were a lot of jobs to do. It took a lot to keep the North Pole running smoothly.
I had a ton of work to do, but these were my morning rounds, important for keeping up morale. And I needed the distraction. Alone in my office, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering to Crystal, her red satin bra, and the taste of her lips.
And I was doing it again. Great jumping jelly beans.
The bell rang, signaling the first cocoa break of the morning, and I retired to my office and poured myself a fresh cup of cocoa, which I seriously considered spiking.
I needed to see her. I could hardly focus on my work, and I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. With a sigh, I cracked open the book that held the naughty list and stared at her name.
Crystal Angelina Turner. Even her name was sexy. I rubbed my face with my hands. Focus, Yule!
“So, when do your mother and I get to meet her?”
“Arrgh!” I jumped at the sound of my father’s voice, spilling my cocoa in my lap. Kringle Krisps! I am totally spiking the next mug. “Dad! You have got to stop doing that!”
My father laughed and handed me a napkin from the cocoa cart to wipe up the spill.
“I’m not trying to scare you. Focus, Son. Pay attention to your surroundings. Get your head out of the clouds.”
I glared at him. “What do you want?”
“That’s obvious. We want to meet her. Your fiancée. The future of Christmas. Your Mrs. Claus.”
“She’s not my fiancée yet, Dad. Got a ways to go on that front.”
“Might want to speed up the process.” My father pointed to the calendar on the wall. “You have one week until Christmas Eve, Son. It’s go time.”
I scowled. “I’m aware of the date. I’ve been working very hard to balance my job with my mission. You are the one who gave me only two weeks to pull off a near-impossible task.”
“It’s tradition that you become Santa on the eve of your thirty-ninth birthday, and you have the remainder of the time between your birthday and Christmas to find and marry your Mrs. Claus. That’s not my fault. It’s the way it has always been.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, maybe you should have had me in January or March, then, instead of two weeks before Christmas.”
My father shrugged. “You were a St. Patty’s day present, Son. What can I say? You know it’s my second favorite holiday.”
The reference to my conception was more than I could take right now. “Get out of my office. I have a ton of work to do, no thanks to you.”
“Whatever you say. Just bring her here this weekend. You mother needs at least two days to plan a proper wedding.” He snapped his fingers and was gone.
Thank God.
I kept the decorations up. Every single one of them, and when I looked at them, I smiled. My ass clenched, and my pussy tingled every time I caught a glimpse of that ridiculous Santa tree topper, or the silly gingerbread houses I didn’t have the heart to throw away. Not to mention the small pile of wrapped packages under the tree that grew larger each day. Every morning, when I woke up, there were at least two new ones. And then, of course, there was his parting gift. A huge centerpiece vase on the dining table filled to the brim with candy canes. At least, it had been filled to the brim when he left Sunday night. It was now Wednesday, and my supply was dwindling. I couldn’t get enough of the sweet minty sticks, and every time I put one in my mouth, I thought of Yule slamming me against the wall and taking me like his own naughty little elf.
Stupid nickname. I missed it, and him. I missed the ridiculous way he hummed Christmas songs under his breath constantly and the way he drank cocoa with every meal. I missed the never-ending supply of corny Christmas pajamas he snapped into existence.
I hadn’t heard from him since Sunday night, but that was no surprise. Christmas was only eight days away. He had a plethora of Santa Claus duties to tend to and far more important things to do than indulge the repressed dreams of a confirmed anti-Christmasite on the naughty list.
“The naughty list thing is a problem, but imagine my joy when I opened my nonbeliever list today and watched your name fade right off the page.”
His deep voice echoed behind me, and I turned to see him standing there, all gorgeous six foot one of him, clothed in his uniform of red velvet.
“Yule!” I scolded, calling him by his real name, “Don’t do that! Can’t you teleport to outside the front door or something halfway normal?” I shrieked, even as my insides melted at the sight of him.
He shrugged and snagged a candy cane from the vase. “The magic isn’t perfect. I think of you and then I teleport to wherever you are. Lucky for us, you weren’t in the bathroom.”
Annoyed by the thought of such a gross privacy invasion, I scowled at him.
He just stood there, casually unwrapping the candy cane before sticking it into his mouth with a suggestive grin. “I missed you, little elf.”
My shoulders sagged as the week’s stress seemed to roll off my body in waves with those five simple words. I walked toward him and all but fell into his arms. His red jacket was soft and warm and smelled like pine and peppermint. He held me for several minutes before taking me by
the shoulders and pulling me back to hold me at arm’s length. He grabbed my chin with the crook of one finger and lifted my face until my gaze met his. The miniature candy cane stuck out from the corner of his mouth, reminding me of our last night together and giving me all kinds of naughty thoughts.
“Do you really believe, little elf?” His face held a mixture of hope and skepticism.
“Well, your magical book of secrets says I do,” I joked, “so I must. Besides, it’s kind of hard not to with you teleporting in here with your mind reading, and your perfect gifts, and your freaking magical flying sleigh.”
Crunching the candy cane between his teeth, he quickly swallowed. “God, that is so fruitcaking hot.”
He grabbed the base of my neck and backed me against the wall with lust on his face and passion in his eyes. He kissed me with a deepness and longing that filled my soul and sent only one message. This man wanted me.
Damn. Who would have thought it would be believing in Santa that made me irresistible?
The fervor with which he kissed me and the pure unbridled desire he held for me fueled my own need. I was frantic in my mission to relieve him of his bulky uniform. The Santa suit was cute, but Santa himself was sexy as sin.
I wrestled with his jacket, and yanked at the large metal belt buckle.
Yule tossed his head back and laughed. “Little elf,” he said, snapping his fingers. “If you wanted my clothes off, all you had to do was ask.”
He magically removed not only his own clothes, but all of mine as well. Holy shit.
He was naked perfection, standing there with his rock-hard erection and self-satisfied smirk. I threw myself onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He stumbled backward, taking us to my couch, collapsing into a sitting position with me straddling him, my legs still wrapped behind his back. I felt his erection press against my opening, and I spasmed with frantic need, hoisting myself onto him, impaling myself with his candy stick.
Where our first lovemaking session had been slower and sweeter, as we explored each other’s bodies, this one was hot, heavy, and reckless with abandon as we took what we needed from one another, grinding together with a passionate heat. We had one goal. Release, and I was hovering on the brink.