Page 1 of Cupid's Naughty Elf

1

LIAM

DECORATING HIS ELF…

That sinful fucking mouth.

So pouty and sweet. Plump and bitable.

Her lips are slightly parted and painted a bright, merry red with just the tiniest hint of shimmer that catches the soft lighting inside my bedroom. They beckon me closer—an exquisite tease that sends a featherlight stroke down the underside of my cock—and I clench my fingers around the glass tumbler in my hand, creating a hairline crack that travels from rim to base.

She’s done this to me—taken my rationality and destroyed it with each coquettish grin. With the breathy way she says my name or the innocent hugs that always last a few seconds longer than appropriate.

Three years.

I played her game from the shadows, protected what is mine, while the little sugar plum spent her time teasing me with her sinful curves. And while her cousin, my business partner, gave me knowing grins—I scared off any man who looked her way.

I broke a few bones, too.

I’ve never hidden my intentions. Never lied or touched another woman, either.

She was born to be mine, and I’ve waited for three long fucking years. A thousand and ninety-five days where I pretended to be the saint I’m not for her to turn twenty-one before I claimed her

And tonight, I’ll collect:

Piper Christmas Valentine.

A little cock tease born on Christmas day.

My soon-to-be wife whose maiden name name will one day be our wedding day.

I will never deny myself again.

Because everything about this woman was simply created for me.

To tease. To haunt. To destroy. Her mere breathing is a fiery stroke that pulls beads of pre-come from my engorged tip, and I feel each pearl-like drop as it slips from the slit, an almost painful clench of my abdomen following before they disappear into the fabric of my dress pants.

“Five more minutes.” The deep rumble comes from my chest seconds after my eyes shift to the alarm clock on my nightstand. It startles the little morsel on my black satin sheets; she’s half-asleep and twisting, slowly coming to while a small, kittenish mewl sweeps past her lips.It's such a pretty sound.“Wake up, sweetheart.”

The dark color contrasts perfectly against her lightly tanned skin, an advantage of living in a state where going to the beach on Christmas Day isn’t unheard of. Not this winter, though. Florida’s experiencing an unnatural cold front with temperatures dipping well into the low twenties, yet it hasn’t been a deterrent for her. No. She stepped out of my favorite holiday fantasy in an indecent little number last night at ourannualFriendsmasparty, sealing her fate and breaking my prideful control.

Naughty, naughty Piper.

“Three minutes.” The deep timbre of my voice carries throughout the room, and her face—eyes still closed—turns in my direction. Her brows are furrowed while the slutty elf outfit exposes a little more skin with each sensual shift. Not that she’ll get far. Her movements arelimited, at best.

I made sure of it after my sweet darling asked for a ride home, only to fall asleep in my car.

And I’m not the least bit ashamed of taking advantage.

Of gently transferring her from my car to my bed and then admiring the view.

Piper’s wearing a tiny velvet corset in a rich, deep green and matching tiny shorts that ride up, leaving little to the imagination. Each time she moves, the fabric molds to her curves, highlighting every inch of flesh I vow to claim before the sun rises. But more than that, she’s my present for the years of cold showers and self-given hand jobs, I’ve suffered through while patiently waiting for this special birthday. She’ll be twenty-one in a few minutes, and I’m savoring the moment.

Our memories:

The years of following her every move.

The years of denying every man who attempted to get close.

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