Page 18 of Christmas Eve with Krampus

My pain is gone.

“Does that please you, Josie?”

I writhe on the bed as his warm breath washes over my sensitized flesh. “Yes. But you know what would please me more, R?”

“Tell me. I’ll do anything.”

Do you know how many guys have told me the same kind of line just to get me into their bed? Too many to count, but I’m already hear—and, for some reason, I actually believe that Ruprecht means it.

“Then finish what you started, okay? My hip feels great, but that tongue of yours… I need it on my pussy.”

“ Ich schenke dir alles.”

I don’t know what he said, but since he goes right back to fucking me with his tongue, I could give a shit.

I do giggle, though, as he single-mindedly devotes himself to giving me more pleasure than I’ve ever had. Even if it’s only while he’s touching me, for the first time in years, there isn’t the slightest twinge of pain. It’s just pleasure, and that makes me giddy as I confess to him, “That tickles.”

It more than tickles. Between his beard brushing my sensitive inner thighs, plus the points of his claws trailing down the outside…. and , God, how he can work that pointed tongue as he dips it in and out of me… it feels amazing.

He lifts his head just enough to meet my eyes. His are red, but I’m not afraid of him. I’m actually carenning toward a climax, and the hungry expression on his face as me clenching my pussy, wishing I had something to hold onto.

Even if it’s his tongue again, I need something?—

“Please. Please.”

“I exist for your pleasure, my Josie. Only yours. And for as long as I have you, I will grant it.”

Yeah, yeah. We both know that this can’t last. That this isn’t forever. But if he doesn’t give me just a little something extra to get me off… my begging might just turn to screams.

And then he lowers his head again, using the point of his tongue to flick my clit, sending me over, I do scream.

That’s not all, either. As the chains keep me in place so I can’t do anything but ride his face as he pulls my orgasm out of me, all I can think is this: Ruprecht tastes like peppermint and killed my pain more effectively than morphine could. I could totally get addicted to him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows it.

However, as I’m coming down from my orgasm, Ruprecht reaches above me. Like he did this morning, he removes the chain from the hook, then undoes the shackles, leaving me free again.

After busying himself with hanging them back on the wall, he turns and takes a firm step toward the kitchen.

Yeah, no. That’s not going to work for me.

“Where are you going now? Here. Join me in bed,” I say boldly. I don’t have the energy to get up and follow him—not when I might be conserving it for something else—but at the very least, he can lay down next to me. “There’s more than enough room.”

“Josie…”

“If you don’t believe that I want you to lay with me instead of watching me from the fireplace, brew some more tea.”

Ruprecht shakes his head. “You honored me by letting me know your taste. The tea might have the effect of loosening your tongue and telling me all I want to know about you, but I don’t want that to be the reason you share anything with me. And when you do? I will believe you because you are my Josie, and you are good.”

Ruprecht might think I am. For the most part, I agree. But, after the way he just worshiped my pussy with his mouth, then tended to my hip as if every part of me was precious to him… I’m feeling very naughty about now.

“So do you believe me when I say that I’d like it is you joined me in bed tonight?”

His brow furrows. “To sleep?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Eventually.”

He sucks in a breath. “To mate?”

My heart skips a beat. The way his voice got so deliciously low… “If that’s what you want to call it.”

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