Page 10 of Stalked By Santa

“That wasn’t a request. Good girls sit on Santa’s lap when they’re told. I won’t ask again.”

This time, I do obey. Reluctantly rising from the sofa, I approach him, my bare feet sinking into the soft carpeting.

“Strip.”

I’m unsure what I expected him to say, but it wasn’tthat. Face hot, I freeze. But then I do as he asks—how could I do anything else? This isSantacommanding me, and I can’t say no.

Feeling as if I’m dreaming, I pull my camisole over my head and toss it onto the sofa behind me. Then with shaking hands, I push my pajama shorts down, letting them fall to the floor. I’m not wearing underwear, and an emotion I can’t read flashes in his eyes when he discovers that.

Heart pounding, I force myself to move toward him again. As I close the distance between us, goosebumps form on my limbs even as I feel my blush spread from my face to my chest.

Hot and cold. Fire and ice. Just like this man.

His gaze raking over my naked body could immolate me. Yet those icy eyes are colder than the darkest winter night as he pulls me sideways onto his lap.

And then the cold disappears—and not just because of the proximity of the fire. Hot shame flares inside me at my own helpless desire when my bare sex meets his muscular, leather-covered thighs. Sitting on Santa’s lap, I feel like a naughty child about to be scolded by the only hero I’ve ever had.

He wraps an arm around me, holding me in place. Despite knowing that I’m trapped, I can’t help but try to get away. But his embrace is like being restrained by steel bands. And something equally hard presses up against my bare sex…

Suddenly, it’s all too real. Too intense. Too impossible.

But even as I’m thinking that, the arm around me tightens, pulling me even closer. He strokes the side of my face, then cruel fingers grasp my chin, turning my face toward him.

His lips claim mine in a bruising kiss, coaxing my lips open. And then I’m kissing him back, our tongues warring as I feel myself falling into him, deeper, darker… wrapping my arms around his neck, I moan into his mouth, needing more, needinghim.

But I’ve needed him for years and he’s never so much as written back, despite my desperate pleas for him to do just that…

Gasping, I pull away from him, ending the kiss. And as my lungs fill with air, the unreality of all of this washes over me again. I’m sitting on the lap of a strange man who just broke into my parents’ house, naked, wet, and desperate for him to kiss me again.

The mixture of shame and arousal coursing through me is confusing. And maybe that confusion is what makes me say what I do next. “You may be my stalker. But you aren’t Santa. Santa isn’t real. Hecan’tbe real.”

“This isn’t the Maddie I know,” he says, voice stern. “My Maddie is a good girl. My Maddie believes. And yet, you’ve been nothing but naughty tonight. Forcing me to divert my sleigh on the most important night of the year. Wearing that skimpy little outfit to tease me, to test the limits of my control by tempting me with those delicious curves.”

The displeasure in his voice should frighten me. As should the clear obsession his statements betray. But instead of being frightened, I’m shamefully thrilled.

Not seeming to expect a reply, he continues. “And to make matters worse, you neglected to leave out the milk and cookies this year. Is that because you were hoping I’d taste that sweet pussy instead? I will, many times. But first, you need to be punished, then maybe you’ll understand how real I am.”

Then as if I weigh nothing, he stands and carries me across the room to the sofa. The next thing I know, I’m lying face down across his lap, my cheek pressed into the upholstery.

I should struggle. I should try to escape. But then I suddenly understand that I’m incapable of disobeying this man, incapable of doing anything other than exactly what he wants. I hold my breath, uncertain what he’ll do next but praying that he’ll finally give me what I so desperatelyneed.

SIX

NICK

I’d bea liar if I claimed I never fantasized about this exact moment. Yet the reality of her bare bottom exposed before me is beyond anything I ever imagined.

Sliding a finger along her little slit, I discover exactly how wet for me she already is and groan. It’s all I can do not to spread that tight little pussy and take her virginity here and now. But there will be time enough for that later.

Right now, she needs to be punished.

Not because she’s bad. Oh no, my little girl is nothing but good. But she needs to be shown how real this is, needs to be grounded in the present moment. And she needs to understand that this delicious ass is mine, thatshe’smine.

Lovingly, I caress each cheek, and she whimpers, squirming on my lap. The small movement causes her clit to rub against my erection, and she gasps.

“Stay still, gorgeous, or it will be so much worse for you,” I say, then deliver the first swat, not giving her a chance to reply.

To her credit, she goes absolutely still, not making a sound.

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