Page 29 of The Krampus' Queen
They’re shaking, they’re cramping. I can’t do this anymore.
I have to…
Hot pokers touch my wrists. I cry out, not in pleasure but the worst kind of pain. His moan stops short, and he looks at me. In a heartbeat, he releases his fingers off of my wrists before he pulls them past my chest. Whimpering, I hold them tight over my breasts and don’t meet his eye.
“They still hurt? After all this time?”
“Yes,” I mutter, massaging the invisible welts blistering below my skin.
A grunt of exasperation bursts over my head, then he holds my hips with the lightest touch. “Let yourself go,” he commands.
What?I drop my hands to find him peering down at me.
“I have you,” he says. Using his might, he thrusts my whole body onto him. I shiver and cry out as he resumes the rhythm, then picks it up.
Faster and harder, he rams me onto him. I scramble to catch my breath and collapse. My cheek tumbles into the blanket of his chest fur. Without thinking, I breathe him in. That musk that sets my mind on fire buffets off of him in heavy plumes. With one deep whiff, my rational side vanishes.
Panting, screaming, howling to the winds, I fuck him. I drag my nails down him. I bite him. My voice cries out until my throat goes raw. None of it matters beyond the rush of his cock plowing me to pieces.
“Amaya?”
The sound finds its way through my feral brain. I recognize those noises but I don’t know why. Rabid, I stare up, expecting him to be in as wild of a state. Intelligence streams from his gaze as he holds my head. “My queen,” he whispers. Bending over, he throws me back and kisses me.
I smell the cum spurting into my arousal. His cock trembles inside my vise, shaking with joy. I drag myself higher, hanging on with dear life to the euphoria pumping through me. Inches of him slide out, but it doesn’t matter. He’s still inside, filling me to the top.
The mixture of him and me smears into his black fur and up his stomach. I hook onto his horns, my breasts spilling out of the top of my dress. Just as he lifts his face to me, I extend my neck. Krampus draws his nose over the thin skin. A muffled moan rises from his lips.
I gasp at the hot kisses trailing over my throat.
He bites down.
“My king!” I scream as I come in a shower of fury and lust.
CHAPTER 13
LIFE CHANGES BUT also doesn’t.
As days became weeks, our separate paths began to merge without force. Instead of trekking out for hours at a time, Krampus would linger in the library beside me. Over time, as I kept hitting roadblocks, I started abandoning my research more and more.
Once, he found me in his workshop watching him naked—save a pair of buckskin pants—running a small blade down a plane of wood. He had his tongue clenched between his teeth as he focused with such precision, it was a lucky thing I didn’t have any panties on to ruin. When he broke from his work to find me creeping from the door, he invited me in.
As painstaking as it was, he taught me to carve. First with a hunk of wood, then a full plank. I did my best, but I had no hope of matching his talent to make a lifelike deer leaping out of a wall. “So,” I asked, proud of my lopsided snowflake and Grinch tree. “Am I ready to have a go at one of the wall panels?”
Krampus took my crude carving in his hands and walked to the fireplace. I half expected him to toss it onto the flames for warmth, but he placed it on the mantle instead. “Do as you wish, but your work will be on the wall for centuries. Are you prepared for it to live in eternity?”
“Yeah, I think I need a bit more practice before that.”
His only answer was to kiss me on the forehead and return to etching every single hair on a squirrel’s tail.
Dinners became events. Some days I’d find him cooking from dawn ’til dusk with so many pots boiling he’d have to use hot stones to keep things warm. Feasts of venison, bourbon-glazed carrots, au gratin potatoes, and cheese tarts with a sprig of mint became the regular. I didn’t even want to think about how much weight I gained from them, but he never cared. If anything, he seemed to revel in the widening of my hips—his claws always digging into the soft flesh with every hard fuck across his castle.
I stopped thinking about the red door. Then I stopped seeing it entirely. Life was good. I discovered happiness in the simplicity, but also joy at discovering miracles I never knew existed. Krampus would find all manner of delights in his old rooms. One night he revealed an old box that, when cranked, would play music. It wasn’t easy dancing with a man with two left hooves, but he scooped me up into his arms and kissed me.
That was the first time we made love.
The next day he left.
Not for any nefarious reason. There was a village forty miles down at the base of the mountain. He needed supplies and, as much as I’d be willing to try, I couldn’t survive the trip. The weather was subzero by day, never mind at night, and all I had were my leather socks to keep my feet warm.
