Page 28 of Her Secret Santa

He sinks his teeth into my shoulder as I toss my head back on a scream, biting down in a vicious claim. I ride out my orgasm as he bites across my chest, the pain sharp and melding so perfectly with pleasure that I can hardly tell them apart.

“That’s it, princess, one more time for me,” he urges, hammering into a spot that has my legs shaking.

One more time turns into two, then three, and he fits his hand around my throat to cut off my blood flow as another orgasm mounts. My vision starts to gray, but he doesn’t let up until I’m quaking beneath him. I draw a ragged breath into mylungs as the blood rushes back to my head, and my whole world explodes with my final orgasm, so intense it hurts. He follows me over the edge with a groan that he stifles into my collarbone, his cock throbbing as he fills me up.

Sleep creeps at the edges of my vision before he even pulls out, my body so overwhelmed and exhausted that I can do nothing but go limp and pass out beneath him.

I only barely wake up as he cleans me up, shivering at the damp cloth that dabs at my skin. The world fades back into blackness as he climbs into bed beside me, and I nuzzle into his arms, humming happy noises against his bare chest as he tells me to go back to sleep.

I wake up alone.

There’s another note on the nightstand. The first time, it felt thoughtful, but now it feels distant. Careless.

I don’t know why I’m so disappointed to wake up alone. All of this is temporary, and I knew what I was getting myself into the first time I came here.

Maybe it’s because he left marks this time. Maybe it’s because he whispered how pretty I looked into my ears and told me he’d been thinking about me. The way he touched me, the way his cock filled me, the way he kissed me with the taste of my cum still on his lips…

The Floor Master offers me breakfast again, but I decline. I want to be home right now, in the comfort of my bed. I change into the clothes I brought and head back out onto the street to catch the bus home.

I’m scared to admit it, even to myself, but I don’t just want to have this again.

I wantmore.

Chapter Twelve

ZADE

I’ve never really felt bad for leaving someone at Eternity for the Floor Masters to take care of. It’s frustrating that the first time I actuallywantto stay, I don’t have the option to.

Tuesday is my blessed day off from being Santa, and I need to get pretty much all of my work for the week done. There are a few meetings on the schedule too, but I’m hoping I can rush through the rest of them. Half of the meetings I’m scheduled for are just inane small talk anyway.

I made it through the first half of the day, only getting distracted by Clara’s list burning a hole in my pocket a few times. I don’t even know why I brought it with me, or why it feels important to keep it in my pocket instead of in a drawer somewhere. Last night cemented the idea of wanting to spoil her, and it’s refusing to fade. I’ve been known to be a generous Dom on occasion, but it never lasts past the scene.

Now, my mind races with ideas of how to make her dreams come true.

Some of them are admittedly less than PG, but I can’t deny that most of them are about how to make sure her Christmas list gets fulfilled. I don’t talk to her often enough at the mall to make sure she’s getting everything she needs, but I’ve overheard enough of her conversations with her friend in the breakroom to know that she’s struggling. It sounds to me like she puts way too much on her plate, but it also sounds like she’s too stubborn to do anything for herself.

I’ll probably have to set most of this up anonymously, silent gifts from a faceless Elite through Eternity. I just can’t bear the thought of someone else stepping up and giving her what she needs when I can do it without any effort. I want her to bemine, in a way I don’t even really understand. If I have to do it all from behind the scenes to ensure that she’s taken care of—that she’s taken care of byme—then so be it.

The thought sits heavily in my gut. I’ve never wanted to reveal my identity to anyone there before.

It’s not a smart idea, but maybe there’s another way to get what I want. Her list says she wants a job in graphic design, after all.

It would be odd, but the hiring managers wouldn’t dare question me if I told them to post an opening. It would be easier to keep an eye on her if she was working for me. Maybe I can even come up with a personal project I want her to work on, something that’ll keep her close.

If she doesn’t apply, I’ll just have my assistant send her an invitation for an interview. Heidi is getting close to retirement anyway. It would be easier to hire Clara to help out with her tasks and assign her graphic design tasks as she has time for them. I just don’t want her to know I’m the one behind any of it. Regardless if it’s Zaiden the owner of Hawthorne Enterprises, the Santa at Hawthorn Mall, or her Elite, she can’t know. I don’t know why this is so important to me, but I’m not ready for herto make that connection yet. I’m not ready to know what her reaction will be.

Everything is just easier if she doesn’t know who I am.

Still… some part of me—a part that I don’t really understand—is obsessed with keeping her close, keeping her safe. Keeping her happy.

The way she smiles at me when we’re at Eternity makes my whole chest go warm, and I want her to have more reasons to smile like that. I want her to have enough money to fulfill her whole wish list and more. I thought having her a second time would sate my curiosity, my hunger, but it only made her even more pervasive in my thoughts.

I’ve gone from wanting to leave marks on her skin to wanting to make sure she can afford Christmas presents for her grandma, and I realize with a sigh that I don’t just want another night with Clara.

I wantmore.

Every day since Tuesday has been a fucking nightmare.

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