Page 27 of Santa & His Elf

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Pepper

Sneaking into the bathroom, I shut the door partway and speak through the crack. “Nick, I have to pee. I need privacy.”

My stubborn man rests his hand on the door but doesn’t push. “I can watch.”

“No.” I giggle, rolling my eyes at him.

“Fine.” He mopes and crosses both arms over his chest like I’m somehow punishing him. “I guess I’ll stand out here and wait.”

Flashing him a quick smile, I shut the door and lock myself inside.

One day with Nick at the workshop has turned into every day for weeks, and now that we barely spend any time apart, we can’t be separated. It hurts. The bond’s too strong now. We’re obsessed with each other, and I love,love, love every minute of it, except maybe when Santa demands to watch me pee.

Quickly using the facilities, I wash my hands and dry them on a snowman hand towel. When I exit our bathroom, true to his word, Nick is chewing on his thumbnail and waiting. Stepping outside the door, he immediately pulls me into his arms and smells me. He smells me a lot now.

Needing to inspect other things, Nick double-checks that his office door is locked before he rushes back to my side, drops to his knees, and shucks my pants to the floor, trapping the fabric around my ankles. Spinning me around, he spreads my cheeks and stuffs his face there. Wetness soaks my cleft as it always does now, and he’s right there, licking his fill of sweetness.

I shuffle to the wall to lean against, and Nick crawls along behind me as he indulges. Knowing this is what he craves most, I let him because neither of us can stop. Not the sex. Not the ravenous need. It grows and grows to the point we can’t even be around anyone for more than half an hour before we’re clawing at each other’s clothes.

I wish I could say it’s too much or that I mind.

But I don’t.

Except that it interferes with everything else.

Nick knows this.

I know this.

My coming to the workshop has been both a blessing and a curse. One I don’t plan to change anytime soon.

“Nugh,” he grunts against my hole as he screws me on his tongue, and I sigh in pleasure. “So good.” He slurps and laps at the wetness. More drips onto the floor, and he tries to catch it to use as lube to jack his cock.

“Nick,” I gasp, pushing his head between my cheeks. “Nick. I think we need to go home soon.”

“No,” he mumbles.

“Nick.” I giggle at his stubbornness. “It’s late.”

He spanks my cheek. “Shhh.”

“Nick.” Chuckling, I grip his hair and pull him from my ass.

He slaps my hand away to dive back in. “I’m busy,” he comments against my rim, bathing it in his hot breath.

Amused at the absurdity of this moment, I try a different tactic. “This isn’t normal.”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Nick.” Trying again, I grip his hair even tighter and pull him from my crack. On a loud grumble, my partner sits back and stares up at me, mouth wet, hair messy, eyes glazed in lust, cock out.

His desperation, mixed with frustration, bleeds through our bond.

I turn around, and he dives forward and tries to swallow my erection. Snorting at his eagerness, I push his forehead before he can get me in his mouth. “Nick,” I scold, tone firmer this time by only a smidge.

Pulling my pants up to avoid any further sexual interruptions, I cup his face and make him look up at me. “We need to talk to Doc.”

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