Page 22 of Krampus Kruk
“There’s no tomorrow.” I laugh at the insinuation.
“I thought you were sleeping over?” he says with a cocked smile.
“Ifyou crawl to me.”
“If I crawl to you, I am making a mess all over your face and body and punishing your smart mouth with my cock.”
“Deal,” I instantly reply, smiling and excited. “Now go pee and drink a glass of water. When you get to the door, I want to see you on your knees waiting for me to say crawl.”
The look he flashes me before leaving the room is downright sinister. I lean back on the bed, giggling to myself about how I’m naked in this man’s house, commanding him. I like this. He returns after a couple minutes and leans against the doorframe.
Krampus is the hottest guy I’ve ever hooked up with, I think, checking him out in just his jeans. His dick is going to be huge; that’s obvious by everything about him.
“Disobeying already?” I ask, and he bites his lip in response. My heart rate elevates as he drops to his knees. “Good boy,” I taunt, and he growls in response. “Crawl.”
We hold the most heated stare, and then he starts crawling. I feel powerful, reeling that this guy is actually doing it. I watch his muscles flex as he moves toward me.
“Heel,” I command, resting my foot on his shoulder.
He turns his head and kisses my ankle, still watching me.Why is this the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced?It’s tender, sweet, and the powerplay makes it fucking hot. I lean back, feeling the most comfortable I have all night. “Like the view?” I giggle, spreading my legs a little for his perusing pleasure.
“Yes.”
On a whim, I slide my hand down my chest, moving down my body until I’m making small circles on my clit. His face isn’t far away, but I taunt, “Stay.” His voice rumbles in his chest, our eye contact relentless. I bite my lip as our gaze intensifies. “Stand.”
On his way up, he licks my thigh then hovers over me, setting his hands on my sides.
“I want to play with your belt,” I breathe, turned on by his presence as I extend my hands toward him. “Give it to me.”
He doesn’t say anything; he just unbuckles his belt. These staring contests of ours have me so turned on. He loses this one, looking down as he folds the belt before handing it to me. “What should I do with this?” I ask, examining the leather.
“You’re pushing boundaries, baby girl, exploiting your power.”
“Maybe I’ll use it to herd you as you crawl some more.”
“We did not talk about this,” he huffs.
“Nervous?” I tease.
“No.” He stands, body rigid.
“Flexing?” I ask, checking him out. Every fucking muscle is cut, defined, and unbelievable.
He shakes his head.
“What dark arts are you dabbling in?” I ask, tilting my head, continuing to objectify him with my eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Me, Botox. You …? Testosterone, human growth hormone?”
He shakes his head, smug. “All natural.”
I narrow my eyes.I don’t know if I believe him.
He chuckles, cocky.
“You’re a gym rat, got it. Now, take those off,” I say, staring at his jeans. He’s out of them too fast. I almost sayslower next time, but there isn’t going to be a next time. He’s wearing short briefs and has an impressive bulge. I smile, excited about that, before I notice more tattoos. His left shin has a piece up to his knee, and his right thigh is painted with some kind of crest. “Is that one mafia related?” I ask, curious to confirm my assumption.
