Page 21 of I Saw Krampus Kissing Ms Claus

“You don’t need to worry about anything in here. All of this is—negotiable.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed.” I shake my head, moving further into the room. Some of the items on the wall are strange, and some are a bit exciting. I run my finger across a leather strap, a shiver of excitement runs down my spine when the smooth leather touches my skin.

“I’m not embarrassed.” He says, “I just wanted to wait to show it to you.”

“What’s your favorite?” I ask him.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, but I see the way that his eyes move to the bench at the end of the bed. “It doesn’t matter.” He says.

I move toward the bench to examine it. It’s shaped like a small picnic table. A wider leather bench in the middle sits a higher, with thinner, smaller leather benches a little lower on each side.

“What’s this then?” I gesture to it.

Krampus seems like he might not answer.

“I can wait all day.” I sit down, running my hand over the buttery red leather.

“Spanking bench.” He takes a few steps toward me until his thighs are just barely grazing mine. It shoots a heat all the way through me. I stare at the place our legs touch, trying to find more words to say.

His fingers catch under my chin and he pulls my gaze toward his face. His golden eyes are full of fire. “You know when I say that you are my girl, that I mean that I am your guy as well?” He says quietly.

“You don’t have to say that.” I say.

“I don’t have to do anything.” He smirks. “I just want to be clear. I think of you as mine. And I have always, always been yours.”

“Krampus.” I protest lightly. But he is already leaning forward, putting his hands on the bench beside me, and pressing in close so that his body covers mine.

“Always.” He reiterates, and presses a light kiss to my forehead, “Always.” He kisses my left cheek, “Always.” He kisses my right cheek. “You are my girl, and I am your guy.” He smiles wildly, and smothers my neck with more kisses, until he is pressing me backward to lie on the bench. My hands creep up to run across his muscular arms.

“Your, naughty, naughty, guy.” He says, pressing a kiss into the skin of my cleavage with every word.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” I say, but my breathing is already a little heavy.

“So tell your naughty boy what to do, Ms. Claus.” He pulls back onto his knees in front of me, running his fingers through his dark beard.

I squirm in my seat.

“Or would you rather I was a nice boy?” He presses his palms against the insides of my knees, urging them apart. “I could be a very, very nice boy?” His dark tongue dances across his lips.

ChapterEight

“ITHINK I’M REALLY STARTING to like it when you are nice.” I reach down to stroke his face and let my fingers grace up the length of his dark horns. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a low growl.

“Sorry, was that not okay?” I pull my hand back.

He shakes his head. “They are sensitive, Saint Nik. If you keep doing that, I’m going to become a very naughty boy a lot faster than I planned.”

I smirk, poking the hard tip of one with my fingers. “Then you’d better start being nice now.”

He growls and leans forward, reaching up my dress and hooking his fingers around my leggings, gliding them down my legs in an easy motion.

His tongue sneaks out of his mouth again, and I see now just how long, how thick it is, the rough barbs visible, the forked tip flexes as he moves toward me.

He moves up my thighs eagerly, trailing little kisses all the way up til his lips meet my underwear, which he slides down gently with his claws.

He releases a pleasant groan. “Of course, my perfect Saint Nik has a perfect pussy, too.”

“Nice boys do not talk with their mouths full.” I wrap a hand around his horns, pulling his face closer to me.

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