Page 13 of Dirty December

“Oh, yes. Like that!”

“Good.” Klaus kisses my mouth again, tongue delving deep, demanding my surrender as he probes in, tangling his tongue over top of mine. His body mimics the actions of his mouth, rolling on top of me.

It’s like being smothered in thick, heavy expanses of muscle. Klaus isn’t thin. Nor is he fat, contrary to the pictures, cards, andwrapping paper show. I think, over the years, people mistook all the extra layers of warm cloaks for him. And of course, there have been Santas of many shapes and sizes throughout history.

Klaus’s body covers mine completely. My arms ache holding onto him as he stretches them wide across his broad chest. His hips test the limits of my pelvis. It’s all muscle, and it’s all cloaking me. There’s soft silver hair in a cross that starts out in a shimmer across his chest and fades to a wisp over his belly before making a soft luxurious mat over his manhood.

“My polar bear,” I smile, daring to run my hands through his hair and beard, and then to dance over the coarser curls above his cock.

“My little arctic hare. Oh, little rabbit. I love that you finally ran right into the big bear’s jaws,” Klaus whispers softly as his hand forms a possessive seal over my throat and his mouth locks over mine.

His tongue stabs in deep, and air vanishes. Below, two fingers start playing with my pussy, touching it as if it is his—as if it’s always belonged to him.

It has.

Klaus touches me in ways that make me blush, fingers poking and swirling in my slickness until I know they must be saturated in the thick, clear desire meant to ease him into me.

Klaus lets me breathe as he cradles my gasping body to his chest—plunging two long, sinewy fingers into my hole.

“Ohh!” It only hurts for a second. “Oh, please. More.”

“I know, snowflake. I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t like,” Klaus comforts as he studies my face, his hand starting to glide, pushing in and pulling out.

I’m so tight that my tunnel clings to him and stretches around him.

“You fit like a glove. My very special pink mink,” Klaus teases, making me blush. “You feel so tight, Eirwen. How longdo you think I’ll have to fuck you with my fingers before you’re ready for my cock?”

“Not long at all. I’m ready now. You can take me now!” I squeak, squirming when he leaves two fingers in me, knuckles deep, the knuckles rubbing the underside of my aching clit.

“Oh, you’d like that, would you?”

“Don’t tease.” My stomach flip-flops with the sudden vulnerability of being naked and pinned, spread on his hand, and shamefully desperate for more. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do if he asked.

“But there’s more we should do first.”

The fingers inside me curl and wriggle. Klaus feels around inside of me, withdrawing almost all the way so that he can find the spot that makes me go boneless.

“I’ll do anything you say. Or want. As long as you make me yours.”

There’s silence for a second. Klaus kisses me. “Thank you, my love. My Eirwen. You know I would be yours, too? This is a gift exchange. After all, Christmas isn’t just about getting, but also about giving.”

We share another long, soothing kiss. It’s nice. But we’re both waiting, aware that our wishes are much darker and more deviant.

“What can I give you?” I whisper. “Name it.”

Klaus hesitates, then bends his head. His silky beard drapes over my belly as he lovingly suckles on my breast. The rhythm of his mouth finds a partner in my pussy, making them both pulse in time.

As he worships at my tight, needy nipple, his fingers leave my hole, feeling painfully stretched and still dripping like a melting ice floe. Two slick fingers go down between my cheeks.

“Legs much farther apart, little rabbit.”

I nod, eyes closed. What’s he going to do? Would he really fuck me there, first?

The thought sends a tingle all through me, with hot blood to my face and an ocean of worry and excitement racing to my stomach as I picture being bent over and taken in the tightest and most taboo place.

I’d love it.

“God, yes,” a moan escapes me as I spread my cheeks.

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