Page 8 of Dirty December

I nod, clucking my tongue to Hades and Jingle.

They start to run, fast and smooth. Icy drops of snow blow back against us. Klaus tucks the hood of my furs up close around me and wraps us in the thick tanned hides of musk ox.

I’m touched by his concern—but the man should know that he’s setting me afire already!

As the sled suddenly slips free of gravity and starts to climb through the air, I can feel Klaus relax under me. His hands rest under my ribs and gently stroke up and down, massaging me through the fabric of my dress.

“Alone at last. Am I distracting you?” Klaus murmurs, voice as thick and dark as curling chimney smoke.

“I can drive.”

“Not what I asked.” His hand slips lower and starts to stroke my outer thighs. “You make such pretty little noises when I touch you, Eirwen. Does that mean I should continue?” he asks.

“Touch me where?”

Klaus laughs, chest shaking silently. Eventually, his voice catches up, louder to counter the rushing wind. “That’s the question, isn’t it? I could be a gentleman.”

I nod.

“Or I could give you what you want.”

I nod so much harder. “That one.”

“But you’ll have to tell me. I wouldn’t like to push you too far,” Klaus warns, a mixture of genuine concern and roguishness in his tone.

“You can touch me. Anywhere. I want that.” I bite off the words and spit them out fast before I can lose my nerve.

Klaus puts his lips to my temple, larger form cradling mine. It’s both sweetly protective and intimidating.

And I love it.

“You want me to touch you where? Where should I start? Where do you dream about me touching you the most?” Klaus asks.

“I—”

There’s a soft squeeze of his iron arm around my waist. “I’m only going to touch you in one spot for the rest of the ride. Where should it be? No overthinking, just tell me, sweet little snow angel.”

“Pussy!” The word escapes and I can’t call it back, blurted out in sudden fear that he won’t touch me where I’m throbbing so bad it physically hurts.

His lips fasten on my neck, and his left hand joins my two on the reins.

His right hand slips under my spread skirt and brushes over my damp tights.

Then, I feel a sharp tug between my legs and a burst of colder air.

“I’ll buy you more.”

My eyes are wide despite the rushing wind. Klaus just ripped open my tights. Does that mean he’s—

His hand cups my wet pussy through my panties.

“Don’t.”

“You don’t want me to touch?” Klaus drops his hand and stops kissing my neck.

I could curse at the loss. “You’ll get all wet,” I whisper, blushing madly.

Another of his booming laughs crashes against my skin. “Yes, Eirwen. I’ll be drenched in your juices if I have my way. I want to make you wetter still. I want to hear waves lapping when I touchyou here. You’ll have to be utterly soaked to take all of me, and even then—”

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