Page 4 of Christmas Desires

“Good girl,” he said, and the heat rose at his words again.

He leaned back and spread his knees like some resplendent god. He could easily model with the level of presence he had.

“Get dressed. I’ll be back.” Gene disappeared through the door opposite the main one.

I dropped my gaze from Simon’s and walked toward the bed. Laid out was a top made of black netting and a cute pair of silky, pink pyjama bottoms with candy canes on them. A note on top held two simple commands.

No underwear. Loose hair.

Excitement raced through me as I let my shoulder-length curly hair down and slipped out of my dress. Simon’s eyes burned into my back as I bent and slipped my black thong off.

“Turn.” His command lashed at my senses, and I swallowed thickly.

Turning, I was acutely aware I had a black bra and heels on but nothing else.

His eyes roved all over me, and he rose from his chair. “May I?”

He held out his hand, and I passed him the sleep shorts, a tremble in my arm giving me away.

He knelt in front of me. “Lift.” He tapped my leg.

I lifted it, and he leaned forward, inhaling as he slipped the soft material over my foot. Tapping the other, he made me raise it as he hooked the other side on. Torturously slowly, grazing my outer thighs, he pulled them up. The heat in his eyes as he looked up scorched through me, drenching my pussy. No one had ever stared at me with such intensity. Once the shorts were in place, his fingers briefly gripped my hips, and then he stood again and reached around, unclipping my bra. Slowly he pulled the bra down, and the material rubbed against my hard nipples as it fell away, causing me to suck in a breath.

Somehow, I felt even more naked now, and the heat blazing off his shirt fuelled the fire. My senses were full of his musky scent, and my shorts were already damp.

“So pretty.” He skimmed his fingers across the underside of my breasts.

He leaned down, and I held my breath, waiting for him to take a nipple into his mouth, but he snatched up the top from the bed behind me.

Air puffed out of me. I’d never been this wound up. He stretched the neckline and drew it down over my head. The elastic netting glided over my skin as I pushed my arms through. Each netting hole caught on my straining peaks as he extended it down over my tummy. When it finally settled into place, my engorged nipples stuck through the material obscenely.

“Such a perfect combination of naughty and nice.” He stepped away, and I swayed towards him, catching myself at the last minute.

“Shoes off and into bed. Santa won’t visit unless you are a good girl.” He turned and walked away, leaving me panting.

CHAPTER 3

Elle

This is it. No one was going to leap out and call me a freak. My naughtiest desire was coming to life, and it was even hotter that Simon would watch. My body throbbed with need. Stumbling slightly, I yanked my heels off and pulled the covers back, slipping into bed as chills raced over my skin.

Simon flicked the lights off, leaving only illumination from the Christmas tree and the moon. He settled back into the armchair, his eyes glittering in the multicoloured lights. My breathing was shallow as I struggled to remain still. Closing my eyes, I willed my body to calm down, but it didn’t work. The anticipation clawed up my throat, threatening to bubble out.

Sleigh bells tinkled, and the door creaked open. My breathing kicked up, but I kept my eyes closed like I was asleep. I felt his presence draw closer, and a gentle stroke across the covers ramped up my desire.

“What do we have here?” Gene’s voice was husky.

I continued to feign sleep, pretending I wasn’t electrified with need.

“Have you been naughty or nice?” Coarse hair tickled my ear as his breath ghosted across it.

His hand snaked under the covers, and his leather gloves caressed my skin, making my breath hitch. Agonisingly slowly, I opened my eyes and focused on the mass of white beard obscuring his face. His dark eyes gleamed down at me from below his hat brim. Heat shot through me as a red jacket swam in my peripheral vision.

“Tell me, Candy, have you been a good girl?”

“Yes, Santa,” I breathed, barely able to get the words out.

“I hope you aren’t lying because naughty girls lie.”

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