by Changelings
Then all speculation vanished because she turned her head and saw him. He stiffened, ready to take the pain. But a smile broke out on her face, warm and real, and his heart turned over. She was all that had kept him sane for months, before the memories had vanished altogether. She’d been the last to leave him and the first he came back to. There were no words for that.
Instead he said, “What are you doing?”
“I thought you might be hungry.”
Fascinated, he took a step nearer. “You knew I’d come back?”
“I’ve always known. And that’s the thing about Christmas. You have to have faith.”
She stood face-to-face with him now, no fear in her beautiful dark eyes, only the love that miraculously had never faded.
“I don’t know what I am,” he got out. “I may never know. I will never, ever hurt you, but I am violent and I have killed.”
She put her arms around his neck and he whispered, “I love you,” as he brushed his lips against her soft, warm cheek. He felt her smile, even as the wetness trickled past his lips.
“I love you,” she murmured into his neck. “And I’ll never leave you. I’ll never even think of it.”
In spite of the heat of the little kitchen, her nipples were hard, pressing against his chest. Raw, sexual hunger broke through his tenderness. Gently tugging back her hair he kissed her mouth, lost himself in her taste and smell and the feel of her hot, sensual body wriggling in his arms.
She whispered, “I know how you remembered.”
“So do I. I want to remember more, everything. Put the turkey in the oven.”
“Why?” she asked, clearly baffled by his apparent change of subject.
“Because I want to fuck you on the kitchen table. If you’ll have me.”
“Oh, I’ll have you,” she gasped. With apparent effort she tore herself out of his arms, opened the oven door and thrust the turkey tin inside. But before she’d even closed the door, the sight of her curvaceous rear bent over drove him to catch her hips, pulling her back against his hard-on as he yanked up her skirt.
“Now?” he asked urgently, swinging her round toward the table.
“Now,” she pleaded.
Laughter caught in his throat. For the second time that night, he wrenched open his old jeans and pushed his cock into her hot, welcoming pussy. He’d come home.
His eyes closed as her warm, velvety walls closed around him and squeezed.
“My God… Happy fucking Christmas,” he whispered, and set about making it just that.
Marie Treanor
Marie Treanor lives in Scotland with her eccentric husband and three much-too-smart children. Having grown bored with city life, she resides these days in a picturesque village by the sea where she is lucky enough to enjoy herself avoiding housework and writing sensual stories of paranormal romance and fantasy.
Marie is the award winning author of nearly forty sexy paranormal romances -- Indie, New York and E-published.
You can find out more about Marie and her books on her website: www.marietreanor.com. Connect on Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Marie-Treanor-Paranormal-Romance/105866982782360.
Subscribe to her New Release Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/w84NH and find more titles by Marie Treanor at http://www.changelingpress.com/author.php?uid=80.
An Orgasm for Christmas
Marteeka Karland
Rose has the winter blues. For three Christmases she’s been the consummate wallflower at the Magical Forest Christmas Festival and she wanted so badly for this one to be different.
She’s about to give up and leave in disappointment yet again when she spots Father Christmas. Marching herself over to him, she plops down in his lap.
“And what is your Christmas wish this year, my dear?” His rich, deep voice inspires trust, but she’d have asked for her wish no matter what.
“I want the biggest screaming orgasm the Magical Forest has ever seen.”
Chapter One
“And what do you want for Christmas, little one?”
The question had been burning inside Rose’s mind since the Forest Santa had asked the first child early that evening. Now, after hearing the same question about five million times throughout the night, she thought she had an answer. At least for herself.
Until the Christmas she’d come of age three years before, the Yule festivals had been the highlight of Rose’s year. She loved Christmas time even better than Spring. Her mother claimed Rose would be a snow faery when she grew up. Rose didn’t know what she wanted; she only knew her heart was happiest in the winter. Christmas especially.
Now that she was as free to seek her pleasures as any other adult fae, she hadn’t been able to find anyone interested in her. Since she’d turned eighteen, she hadn’t danced a single dance with anyone other than her father or Gaelen, the Forest King. Even the stupid party games that had seemed so much fun before had lost their appeal. All she wanted to do was find a handsome man, have wild, passionate sex with him, and wake up the morning after snuggled in bed with the sheets tangled around them. Such was the way of all Forest creatures.
Since she’d come of age, however, every man in sight avoided her like she had some kind of fungus. She’d watched from the wallflower’s table with other Elf and faery maidens not yet promised. Unlike the other maidens, she hadn’t danced even a single dance with a prospective lover. It was happening again tonight, too.
Stupid party. She blew a strand of unruly curls out of her eyes.
As the last song ended, Gaelen raised his hands for silence. “It’s time,” he announced, “for all children to go to bed.”
A collective, “Awwww, man!” went up from the little ones around the assembly. Rose couldn’t help but smile. She remembered not wanting to leave all the fun.
“Now, now,” the king chuckled. “Off to bed. You know Santa won’t deliver your presents unless you’re sleeping. Besides, if you’re naughty tonight…” He let his last statement trail off, leaving them to ponder the consequences. It was enough to send children scampering away and to make adults smile or even laugh. Parents waved good-bye to the single and childless partygoers as they followed excited young ones home.
Rose sighed. She had just decided to turn in herself when she noticed Santa leaning against a tree, looking directly at her. Curious, Rose wondered who he was. This was a new Santa. Strange she hadn’t noticed before, but this definitely wasn’t the same Father Christmas of previous years.
This one was taller, bigger. His hair was long and platinum blond, not the snowy white it should have been, and he hadn’t yet grown a beard.
When he beckoned her to him, she went without hesitation. A new Santa happened only once in a lifetime. There was usually a celebration just after All Hallows Eve to welcome a new Santa and his wife into their duties. Apparently not this year.
“You’re new.” It was obvious, and not her usual snappy self, but she had to say something. For some reason, her stomach quivered and sweat dampened her body. Her tongue stuck to the inside of her mouth, and she had to swallow a couple of times.
He only smiled and sat down in the big, plush chair near the tree. Rose remembered the children gathering around the huge thing earlier. It may have been a large chair to anyone else, but it fit this man perfectly. His big body filled the space comfortably.
When he had situated himself, he spread his arms out to Rose in welcome. “Come. Sit with me.” His deep, baritone voice rumbled through her insides, sending erotic vibrations straight to her clit. “Tell me what you want for Christmas.”
He sat with his legs spread slightly, his nearly knee-high boots hugging his calves lovingly. Almost as lovingly as the brown pants trimmed in forest green molded to his thighs. Rose figured she could see every muscle hugged by his coverings. The matching vest rested over an ecru-colored shirt with billowing sleeves. Both opened at his throat halfway down his chest. Blond curls peeked through the opening, and Rose had the sudden urge to trail her fingers through it.
His hair kissed his shoulders, barely brushing the tops as he moved his head. She clenched her hands into fists to keep from reaching out to him.
Rose thought briefly about her answer, but lying to Santa didn’t seem to be in her best interests. Besides, one look in his eyes -- one spine-tingling, pussy-clenching look -- and there was no way she was telling him anything other than the truth.
“I want an orgasm for Christmas.” She couldn’t help the dreamy grin she knew had split her face. Several wonderfully erotic images popped into her head. All of them starring the sexy Santa.
His naughty grin melted her insides and made her wings quiver. This Elf was definitely a Santa of a different variety.
“Only one orgasm?”
“You knew what I was going to ask for, didn’t you?”
He chuckled, and the hand he had around her back stroked her wings slowly and sensually. “I’m Santa. I know everything. Didn’t you know that?”
“I don’t see anyone else over here. Your reputation definitely doesn’t precede you. Perhaps you don’t know as much as you think.”
He laughed then, a great belly laugh that made Rose laugh too. “Oh my, Rose! You are truly a special faery. Only you would have the audacity to bring Santa down to size on Christmas Eve.”
“Well.” Rose squirmed, but he held her fast. “I only meant you could most definitely have any woman -- or man -- in the forest tonight. If you really did know everything, you’d know that I’ve apparently contracted a fatal, disfiguring disease because no one is getting near me tonight.”
Again, he laughed. This time he had to wipe tears from his eyes, but he kept a solid grip on Rose so she was unable to slip from his lap and kick him in the shins. Despite her annoyance, his laughter was infectious, and she couldn’t help but smile, though she tried valiantly not to.
“Did it ever occur to you I might be the tiniest bit territorial, Rose? Perhaps I warned everyone off. Perhaps I knew what I wanted and had no intention of letting you have fun without me.”
Rose blinked and shook her head. “Me? Why didn’t you dance with me last year, then? Or the year before? Or any number of years before now! I’ve been here every year since I was a little girl. You could have danced with me or spoken to me, or played the stupid party games with me no matter what our ages!”
Again, Santa chuckled. Damn! He had a sexy voice. Maybe it was her own sexual frustration, or maybe he’d have the same effect on every woman at that party, but Rose wanted nothing more than to drag him to her bed and keep him there for days and days and days. There was no possible way she could be too annoyed with him, even if he was being an infuriating male. Funny. She remembered her mother saying the same thing about her father many times.
“I’ve been here every year, Rose. I’ve watched you blossom from the cutest girl into an intoxicating woman. But it wasn’t I who avoided you, my dear. You refused to dance with -- how did you put it? -- ‘a lanky Elf with two left feet’.”
Immediately, Rose’s hands flew to her mouth. “Omigod! That was you?”
Again, he laughed that wonderful, sensual laugh that was full of mirth and mischief. “It was indeed. Though, I confess, I’ve always thought I was a pretty good dancer.”
Rose tried to get up, but he held her firmly. “Please. I need to get up.” She was pleading, but she didn’t care. Sitting there now would just be too uncomfortable.
“Absolutely not.” He grinned at her and leaned closer. Warm breath brushed her ear and sent shivers zinging through her body. “I have something in mind that requires you to stay right where you are.” He latched onto her earlobe for a split second, and she squealed. “At least for now.”
Rose resigned herself to the fact that she’d been outmaneuvered. Now that she knew who he was, she recognized Kris, the Elf she’d been so rude to when she was a self-conscious teenage girl. He’d told her then that one day she’d dance with him, and when she did she’d never want to let him go. Now, she felt the need to explain her actions.
“I panicked back then, Kris,” she said, mortified by her words all those years ago. She hadn’t really meant them, but she knew she had caused the Elf pain and embarrassment. “I couldn’t dance and didn’t want you to laugh at me.”
“But you learned. By the next Christmas, you were light as a snowflake on your feet.” His lips feathered across her face and neck, and he inhaled deeply. “Ah, I love the smell of you, Rose. I have caught your scent many times over the years, but you smell even better up close than I ever imagined.”
Rose’s stomach fluttered and her pussy drenched with the unaccustomed sexual arousal. “Such pretty words, Kris. Are they all part of my present?”
Kris only smiled, and Rose was terribly afraid they were only words. She’d secretly harbored a crush on him back then. But after that horrible scene at the dance, she’d only seen him in passing. He’d never approached her, and she sure as hell hadn’t approached him.
Rose looked around them self-consciously. Anyone could see what they were doing. Surely he couldn’t mean to make good on her request in front of everyone.
“Relax, little Rose,” he purred in her ear. “I would never do anything to disrespect you. When you’re ready, I’ll take us to a place where I can make you howl and no one will be the wiser.”
Kris was so hot, he thought he might melt the snow. Finally, after years of preparing himself and waiting for Rose to come of age, he was about to have exactly what he wanted.
Gone was his lean frame. Instead, he’d transformed himself into a bulky, muscular man more to his lady’s liking. Kris had never been one to want to change for anyone, but the moment he’d been rejected by little Rose, he vowed he’d do whatever it took. Judging by what she’d said about their one face-to-face encounter, he should have followed his normal inclination. Apparently, she hadn’t been nearly as displeased with him as he’d thought. Still, the extra mass helped him fill out the Santa suit. He was definitely grateful for that.
Now, with her sitting in his lap, trembling in her excitement and lust, he knew it wouldn’t matter. He’d do anything he had to in order to have her. And keep her. If that made him weak and needy, then so be it. He needed Rose like he needed to breathe, and he didn’t care who knew it.
Kris had planned this encounter since he’d first been chosen to continue the work of Father Christmas. The kids knew him as Santa, but his work extended far beyond the actual holiday itself. He was supposed to be the voice of hope to people everywhere, but without someone to love at his side, without someone to love and be loved by, there would never truly be hope within him to give. When he’d been told this, the first name, the first face, that came to mind was Rose. He knew then she was the only woman for him.
Now he held her close and stroked her body carefully, waiting for the right moment. She trembled as he rubbed his hands over her back and legs. Kris didn’t touch her in a sexual manner, only needing to soothe her and entice her with what was to come.
When Rose lifted her head to stare into his eyes, the spark of desire he’d seen before had flared into a flame. He knew without a doubt she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Now he had to make her want to stay once he fulfilled her Christmas wish.
Chapter Two
Rose’s hands caressed Kris’s arms and chest. He had certainly changed from her youth. She loved how his muscles bunched beneath her touch and how big his body was now. Truth was, she’d loved his body before. It wasn’t lost on her that he’d transformed his outward appearance into what he’d thought she’d wanted. If that wasn’t a sign of a devoted man, nothing was.
When she looked into his eyes, she saw her own passion reflected there. Rose knew not only was she going to get her wish but she’d never be the same when she did.
As if he’d come to the same conclusion at the exact same moment, Kris smiled and lowered his head. His lips captured hers delicately, nipping and enticing her to deepen the kiss. Which she did. When he touched his mouth to hers again, Rose licked at him, s
pearing her tongue at his lips and groaning when he opened to receive her.
Kris’s mouth was heaven. The man knew how to do things with his teeth and lips and tongue that no man should be allowed to do to a woman. But at the moment, she could care less. He was masterful with his mouth. If all he’d done was kiss her, it would have been enough to push her into the best orgasm of her life, but when she tried to squeeze her legs together to put some much-needed friction on her clit, he put one big hand between her knees.
“Oh, no. Not yet, my sweet. Not until you can howl your pleasure. You will hold nothing back from me. Ever.”
He stood, cradling her close to him, and walked deep into the forest. Rose wrapped her arms around his neck and took the opportunity to do some exploring of her own.
Sticking out her tongue, she made a swipe from his collarbone up the side of his neck to his ear. She licked around the shell and sucked on the lobe until Kris grunted. His arms tightened around her, but he didn’t slow his progress.
After several minutes of walking, and several grunts and groans from both of them, impatient to get down to some serious loving, they reached a little cottage surrounded by trees. The interior seemed to be lit with firelight. Flickers and dancing shadows made the windows glow, and Rose marveled that she’d never found this place before.
“It looks cozy, Kris.”
He only grunted as he shouldered the door open and kicked it closed. In three strides across the room, he dropped her on his bed and started shedding his clothes. Rose knew she needed to rid herself of her own, but she was fascinated watching him.
His skin was creamy, like virgin snow with just a hint of a blush. Strong shoulders, a chiseled chest and abdomen, and bulky, vein-roped arms made her mouth water. When he stepped out of his pants, her breath caught. His legs were thick and heavily muscled, but that wasn’t what seized her attention. His cock stood proud and ready for her, and she licked her lips absently.
