Page 13 of Santa's Little Elf

“No kidding.”

“But you’re worth it.” I kiss the tip of her nose, which is cold enough to remind me where we are.. “You should get inside. You’ll freeze out here.”

“You should come with me.” Her eyes gleam with an unmistakable light. “Like, right now.”

My cock twitches in anticipation. “Now that you mention it, I could use some warming up.”

“I’ll get you good and warm.”

Oh, I know she will.

9

NOELLE

Everything’s different now. Even if I hadn’t found him outside, I would have broken down sooner or later—I’ve been fighting hard enough as it is to stay away from him.

Once I got home and the tears dried, I got a hold of myself and started thinking. I haven’t been able to stop since. Why would a man react the way he did all because I happened to find a wedding photo under his bed? It was the most innocent thing in the world. There’s wanting privacy, and there’s his reaction.

I figured it was either an ugly divorce or he was widowed. Hearing him talk about her broke my heart a little, but that pain has quieted to more of a dull ache by the time I pull Luka into the house with me.

Now I understand why fate brought us together. He needs healing. He needs another chance. I want so much to give him that.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you about these gifts,” he murmurs before nudging one of the boxes with the toe of his shoe. “It isn’t safe, leaving them by the window like this. With the curtain open, anyone can see in.”

Like I care about that right now. “Maybe they’ll see this, too.” In one swift motion, I pull off my sweater, then drop my jeans in the next breath.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” He arches an eyebrow. “You know how I feel about this kind of thing.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel about it.” I drop to my knees in front of him and work on his belt, then his fly. “But I know how you feel about this, too.” I pull him free of his shorts and immediately run my tongue around the ridge of his head. He was already thickening, and growing, but now he’s hard as a rock. I plunge down on him without another word, taking all of him, my pussy moistening at the sound of his soft groans.

“So nice.” He sighs, stroking my hair. “Somebody’s eager. Were you aching to do this? Did you want to suck my dick as much as I want to be inside you?”

I grunt my agreement, my head bobbing, fondling his balls with one hand while sliding the other up under his shirt. My fingers dance along the topography of his abs and chest, the muscles so finely chiseled they almost feel unreal. He’s so beautiful. How can anything so beautiful want me?

“Holy fuck. I should’ve let you do this before.” His legs shake a little, but he remains upright, though it’s clear from the way he pants for air he’s coming close to the finish. I slow my pace, easing up on the pressure from my lips, which only makes him groan in frustration. I can’t help but laugh a little at the sound—now he has to deal with being at my mercy, at least for a little while.

I know better than to think it will last long. “That’s enough of that,” he mutters, and he doesn’t sound happy about it as he withdraws from my mouth. “Shit. That was too good.”

“Too good? I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“Neither did I, until now.” He strokes my hair again, smiling down at me, and I can’t pretend the sight and feel of it doesn’t fill me with a pleasure deeper than anything physical. I’ve pleased him, and it pleases me.

“Now. Let’s talk about picking up where we left off the other night.” With his hands on my shoulders, he presses down, and I lie back on the floor, my head almost under the tree. It’s sort of surreal, lying here, watching him undress before he sinks to his knees between my spread thighs. “I’m pretty sure I promised to eat your pussy.”

“That was a promise?”

“It was to me. I take that sort of thing very seriously.”

“As you should,” I can’t help but whisper with a giggle.

The feel of his coarse scruff against my inner thighs turns my giggle into a moan. I close my eyes, disconnecting from everything but the feel of him. The sound of his breathing, the way his breath hits my skin and makes me shiver.

Instead of pulling my panties off all at once, he teases me, running his tongue along the edge of the fabric, making heat race through me but refusing to give me what I need most. On and on it goes until I’m whimpering and practically humping his face, desperate for relief.

“What did I tell you about that before?” He lifts his head before pushing himself up on his knees and scowling down at me.

“Please!” I don’t care that I’m begging. I don’t care that he knows he pretty much owns me because it’s the truth. He knew it before I did. He owns my body. He owns my pleasure.

---