Page 95 of The Very Naughty List

“And what would you do if you lost control?” I whisper.

He turns to look at me, his dark blue eyes roiling when they meet mine. “I’d make you come right here and now for taunting me with your perfect fucking ass.”

Oh my god.

A smirk tugs at my lips, even as my stomach flutters with a rush of arousal. If he thinks the threat of that “punishment” is going to stop me, he’s dead wrong.

I don’t take my eyes off his, and instead of letting up, I put all my weight into grinding against the lump of coal in his Santa pants. He growls in my ear, the sound hungry and strained.

“I warned you,” he murmurs roughly.

Shifting his weight a little, he reaches for one of the red-and-white striped blankets on the float for us to use in case we get cold. He throws it over our legs, covering us from the crowd, and a second later, I feel one of his calloused hands sliding up the inside of my leg.

“I don’t remember asking for this for Christmas, Saint Nick,” I tease, my pulse kicking into overdrive.

“Maybe not with your mouth,” he shoots back with a feral grin. “But even Santa has to take care of his wife’s needs when her body is so clearly screaming to be touched.”

His fingers slip under my costume to find my pussy and brush across it, making me squirm on his lap. He tightens his grip around my waist again with his free hand.

“Be still,” he whispers, his voice low, “or you’ll give us away.”

I know this is crazy, and there’s a real risk that we could get caught, but I can’t help myself. I spread my legs to give him better access, because the truth is, the recklessness of what we’re doing just turns me on even more. I keep one hand raised high, waving to the crowd of excited townspeople as the float rolls by, but when one of Nick’s fingers slips inside me, it takes everything I have not to let my reaction show on my face.

“Look at you, songbird,” Nick says in my ear, his bristly beard brushing against my neck and making me shudder. “No one out there knows how bad you’re being for me. They don’t know how filthy and greedy you are, opening your legs and begging me for more, do they?”

He shoves his finger all the way inside me, holding me close against him, and my back arches against his chest.

“Oh my god, Nick,” I hiss, my toes curling inside my shoes. “You’re gonna make me?—”

“Make you what? Make you come on my lap? Make you fall apart with all these people watching, none of them knowing what a dirty slut Mrs. Claus is?”

“I…”

I can’t say anything else. I don’t trust myself to speak without letting out an embarrassing moan, so I press my lips firmly together instead, and Nick chuckles.

“Do you want another finger, my dirty little songbird?” he whispers. “You want me to stretch you out? It won’t be as good as my cock, but I bet I can make you come in less than five minutes.”

God, it won’t even takeoneminute.

I’m so turned on by everything he’s doing and saying that I feel like I could shatter already. But even though I know I’m playing with fire, I nod, answering his question silently.

I can’t see his smile, but I can practically feel it as he presses a second finger into me, grinding against my clit with his palm.

I let out the smallest whimper and bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep it to myself. There’s Christmas music blaring from the float, but that wouldn’t be enough to explain away the strained look on my face if I don’t keep it under control. Even if the spectators don’t figure out what’s really going on, I don’t want anyone in the audience to think Mrs. Claus is having a stroke or something.

Reid and Sebastian are still standing in front of us, looking silly but hot in their green elf tights as they wave to the crowd, clueless about what’s going on behind them. They provide some distraction from what Nick is doing to me under the blanket, but most of the eyes in the crowd are understandably locked on meand Nick. After all, as Santa and Mrs. Claus, we’re the power couple everyone is here to see.

Knowing that—and feeling Nick’s thick fingers pumping slowly in and out of me—is a wild rush like no other. Any little thing could give us away right now. If I can’t keep my mouth shut or my face composed, or if a winter breeze strikes up and lifts up the blanket that’s draped over my legs, we could expose ourselves to hundreds of people.

“You’ve been averynaughty girl this year,” Nick whispers, curling both fingers inside me. I clamp down around him in surprise and pleasure and grind against his hand, desperate to get him deeper.

“And the year… isn’t even over,” I whisper raggedly before locking my lower lip between my teeth again to keep from crying out.

“Exactly. Plenty of time to get yourself into more trouble.”

His thumb finds my clit, and he drags its rough pad around the sensitive bud while his fingers keep teasing my g-spot, torturous and slow. My breath hitches in my throat, my thighs clenching. I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust on his lap.

“That’s it,” he urges in a low voice. “Come on, Mrs. Claus. Give Santa his gift.”

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