by Lily Rede
She trailed off, and the uncertainty in her face tugged at his heart. He lowered his head to drop reassuring kisses all over her face.
“You want us to come meet Santa Claus?”
“And Mom. And my sisters. And the elves. There are a lot of them, but they’d love to have Henry to play with for the day.”
“How are we supposed to get to the North Pole, Miss Kringle?”
His fingers found her nipples and rolled, and Holly had to remind herself that he’d asked her a question. Her hips were already moving.
“Snow globe technology.”
“You were serious about that?”
“Very high tech,” Holly teased, and gasped when David pinched lightly, “but you’ll have to behave yourself up there.”
“So I can’t sneak off with you and fuck you up against the sleigh?”
“No. Too many elves around. They ruin the mood.”
David frowned.
“Your dad’s not going to…I don’t know…kill me or something?”
“Santa Claus doesn’t kill people, David.”
“Have you ever brought a guy home with you before?”
“Well, no.” Holly hesitated. This would be a new situation for all of them.
She slid slowly up his cock and sank down again.
“Willing to risk it?”
“That sounds…like an experience we shouldn’t miss,” David said, his voice tight.
His hands came down to her hips to direct their rocking motion.
“Speaking of which, you were going to lean back and show me how you like to take my cock.”
She did as he requested, leaning her hands back on his thighs.
“Arch your back for me. There, just like that.”
The position thrust her breasts up and gave her less control, but David obligingly took over, raising and lowering her on his cock as her head fell back, her hair brushing his inner thighs.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
It might be the orgasms talking, but Holly wondered if she was ever going to get enough of this. David moved one hand to stroke her clit, and too soon she was crying out as pleasure overtook her, feeling the hot wash of his seed as he followed her over.
She sank down on his chest, out of breath.
“I should go,” she whispered, kissing his chest.
“There are hours until dawn,” he responded, tracing her spine with light fingers, “and I’m not done playing with my present yet. Let’s get something to eat and then we can take a shower and test out all of your waterproof features.”
Holly bit him.
“If anyone here is a sex toy, it’s you.”
“Well, since you put it that way, there are a bunch of settings you haven’t tried yet.”
“You’re impossible,” she laughed, “but you’d better get it out of your system before tomorrow night.”
“I thought you said your dad wasn’t going to kill me.”
“It’s not Dad you have to worry about. It’s Mom.”
The look on David’s face was priceless, and Holly rubbed against him soothingly, and proceeded to kiss him until his frown disappeared and all he could do was kiss her back until they were both drowning in pleasure and the wonder of having found each other on a cold Christmas night.
“Seriously, should I be worried?” David pulled back just enough to nip her lower lip.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Holly assured him.
“Fine, but if your mother casts some sort of freaky North Pole spell on me, you owe me.”
Holly rolled her eyes, but nodded.
“What do you want?”
“Do you still have that elf costume?”
“I don’t think it’s your size.” She gasped at the light slap to her ass. It tingled, sending shards of heat to her pussy, “Okay, I’ll wear the costume.”
“No panties,” David grinned, and though Holly knew that her family was going to love David no matter what, she had a feeling she was going to be wearing that elf costume and nothing else by the end of the week.
She couldn’t wait.
THE END
IVY
THE HALLS WERE TOTALLY decked, and the party was in full swing.
Standing in the doorway to his office, Rafe Allen sipped a glass of liberally-spiked eggnog and shook his head in disbelief. The headquarters of Kringle Works, Inc. looked nothing like the well-oiled machine it appeared to be during working hours. Desks had been pushed back to make room for a dance floor, holly and pine garlands studded with Christmas ornaments decorated every possible surface, and the refreshments table was loaded down with so many different kinds of gingerbread, cookies, and snacks that it was a miracle it didn’t buckle under the weight. The noise was deafening as Rafe’s fifty hard-working employees and assorted spouses, significant others, and dates danced and drank, caroused and let loose, celebrating the holiday and a job well done on their most important night of the year.
Rafe lifted his drink in silent toast. They deserved the party, and the hefty bonus coming their way as well. The last twelve months had been a giant leap out of their comfort zone, and his little PR firm had handled the challenge with grace and aplomb. Rafe eyed the giant monitor that tracked Santa’s progress around the globe – right on schedule.
He remembered the day early last January when Ivy Kringle walked into his office, all poised elegance, with skin like fine porcelain, and turned his world upside down. She proposed a deal to partner with his firm to act as her family’s public face to the world in an era when changing technology and ideas made it necessary for them to keep up with the times. The presentation she made was impressive. The numbers she suggested were even more so. There was just one slight problem.
Ivy Kringle was crazy.
She had to be. The whole idea was preposterous, and no matter how Rafe’s skin tingled at the press of her delicate fingers when they shook hands, or how her peppermint chocolate scent had a surge of unexpected lust filling his cock to a shocking hardness, Rafe knew that the cool blond beauty with the unusual blue-green eyes had to be out of her mind.
But...
She didn’t seem crazy, nor the least put out by the laughter he couldn’t keep inside. Ivy took it in stride, took his hands, and POP! Suddenly she and Rafe were standing in the North Pole village, surrounded by elves rushing to and fro, the air alive with blustery snow and trails of magic. After one thirty-second stretch where Rafe wondered if he might actually be the delusional one, while a swarm of elf children hurried up to throw their little arms around a laughing Ivy’s legs, she took his hands again and POP! They were back in his office. Completely unfazed, Ivy handed him the paperwork, hoped he would consider the offer, and calmly walked out.
Santa Claus is real. It was hard to wrap his head around.
His daughter is smoking hot. Okay, that one wasn’t so tough. There was something about her unflappable professionalism that made him wonder what it would take to ruffle her feathers. He wanted to find out, maybe by laying her back on the desk to unbutton her neat little suit and explore the delicate curves below. She wasn’t voluptuous, just exquisitely feminine, and though she was almost polite to a fault, and did her best to stay just this side of chilly – intimidating as hell to most of the office – Rafe had seen glimpses of her softer side. The guys called her “Snow Princess” behind her back, and Rafe had a feeling that she would melt just as sweetly on his tongue.
The usual frustration roiled through his stomach, and Rafe took a sip of his drink, hoping the icy rum and cream would soothe his restless libido. Acknowledging to himself that he wanted to screw Santa’s daughter blind had taken about forty-five seconds. Dealing with the knowledge had taken the better part of the year, and he still wasn’t sure how to proceed. How did one start up a casual fling with a woman whose family was the symbol for everything good and pure in the world? After months of considering the problem, Rafe had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t possible – Ivy Kringle was too good f
or a casual fling, but Rafe knew he couldn’t just let her pass him by.
And that’s a disaster.
It wasn’t that they had nothing in common – they were both workaholics, fiercely devoted to their jobs and their employees. They both liked good scotch, old books, and travel. It wasn’t that she was a magical creature while he was human – every couple had a few issues to overcome. It wasn’t even that he was opposed to a real relationship. After years of meaningless dalliances with social climbers and golddiggers who were only interested in his stock portfolio, Rafe was ready for something a little more meaningful with someone smart, beautiful, and unafraid to speak her mind.
No, the problem was that every time Rafe thought about finally getting his hands on Ivy’s creamy flesh, of baring her secret places to his hungry gaze and the heat of his mouth, it was inevitably followed by the thought of how her sweet, curvy ass would blush under the weight of his hand. He wanted to spank her until she was begging to come. He wanted to tie her hands and tease her nipples until she asked, oh so prettily, to suck his cock. He wanted to take her from behind, against a wall, on the desk, and make her scream his name with his tongue buried in her pussy. Rafe liked control, and more than anything he’d ever wanted before, he wanted to control Ivy’s pleasure, to take her so far that she would never again think of another man. He didn’t want to run her life, but when it came to sex, he wanted her to trust him to take care of her, to bring them both to heights of pleasure that would change them forever.
And that was the problem.
Because she was Santa’s daughter.
An image of a Ivy wearing nothing but a Santa hat, boots, and jingle bell nipple clamps sent his imagination soaring. He’d bend her over the desk and spread those long, long legs before stretching her wet little pussy with a thick vibrator to prepare her for his dick. Rafe imagined the breathless noises she would make as he fucked her with the toy, the little bells tinkling with every thrust. A rush of heat to his groin pulled him back to reality.
God, she was going to drive him insane, simply by existing. He was a dominant, sexual man, and she was demure, classy, and pure Christmas magic. Rafe was sure she’d be shocked by all of the hot, kinky, delightfully dirty things he’d dreamed of doing to every inch of her delectable body.
He adjusted his suit jacket to hide his erection, grateful that half the office would be too drunk to notice in any case. Eyes narrowing, he scanned the room in search of Ivy’s familiar fall of platinum blond hair.
Where the hell was she?
IVY KRINGLE TOYED WITH the glittery green hem of her cocktail dress, idly dangling one stiletto on her toe as she perched on the edge of her desk, going over the press release for tomorrow morning – a Christmas Day statement from the North Pole wishing everyone a peaceful and joyous holiday. Santa and the reindeer would spend the day napping after the night’s long trip, and would stay out of sight until the Christmas Night feast. The Kringle Works office would be silent and dark until after New Year’s, though Ivy knew her younger sister Merry would probably have the elves back at work bright and early the day after Christmas. Giving Merry the responsibility of managing the elves had turned out to be a great idea – the most timid of Santa’s daughters, Merry somehow had no trouble talking to elves, though humans still gave her some trouble. Ivy would join them for the feast tomorrow.
Ivy sighed. It would be nice to spend time at home, to relax and be herself. She loved her work, and she loved living among the humans in a big city, but sometimes the cool and professional face she put forward to the world felt a little confining. She wanted a chance to let go. She wanted someone to see beyond her status as Santa’s proper daughter and a symbol of her family’s good name, and see the woman beneath. Maybe someone tall, dark, and handsome, with brown eyes so light they were practically amber, and strong, elegant hands.
Stop it.
Thinking about Rafe Allen was going to get her nowhere. He was a sophisticated, experienced man, and though he clearly admired her, she could just imagine the horror on his face when he found out exactly how inexperienced she really was. Ivy and her sisters had spent most of their teenage years commiserating over the lack of cute boys at the North Pole, but when they were finally old enough to make their own choices, they’d all taken distinctly different paths. Holly lived in the human world and dated occasionally. Merry went to the other extreme and avoided all human contact. Noelle was the family’s wild child, and Ivy was sure their mother would be horrified to hear about some of the sexual exploits her sister related to her siblings. Of course, ever since Dad had set her up as reindeer keeper at the ranch, Noelle’s flings had been severely curtailed.
Ivy had never been wild. Though she’d never admit it out loud, men made her nervous. She hid the nerves behind propriety and smiling good manners. The few times she’d finally relaxed enough to let a man close, the weight of her family’s trust in her and the responsibility of presenting their good name to the world made her pull away after a few kisses and a little light petting. Not that any of them were ever more demanding – apparently being faced with a Kringle daughter put even full-grown men on their best behavior, which was all well and good, but sometimes a girl just needed…more.
Hard hands pushing her thighs apart, the rasp of stubble against her sensitive breasts, and hot inches of hard flesh filling her up as a warm, muscled body moved against her, and pure sex gleamed in those pussy-melting whiskey eyes.
And…we’re back to Rafe again.
He’d never been anything but polite to her, but somehow she knew that under his fine suit lay a sexually demanding man that could indulge every last one of the naughty fantasies she’d crafted for herself despite her lack of experience. She wouldn’t have to know a thing, because in her wicked imagination, he’d explain to her in excruciating detail precisely what he wanted to do to her, and what he’d like her to do to him. Oh yes.
The thought was such a pleasant one that Ivy’s thoughts drifted from the press release to focus on the image of Rafe slowly unzipping her dress and kissing a shivery path down her spine as he informed her of all the delicious ways she was going to give him pleasure once he finished stripping her with those big hands. Her clit throbbed in approval.
“Thinking naughty thoughts, Miss Kringle?”
The smooth baritone had her dropping the press release, which fluttered to the ground as Rafe stepped inside, swirling a glass of eggnog.
“Sorry?”
“You were smiling at something.”
“Oh. It’s just…It was nothing, really…” Ivy hopped down to retrieve the fallen page, taking advantage of the moment to will her blush away. She knew he’d caught it – that arched eyebrow had raised another inch.
“What does it take to make the cool and lovely Miss Kringle blush?” Rafe asked softly.
Ivy considered him, uncertain.
“You’re in a strange mood tonight. What did they put in that eggnog?”
“There’s a reason they call it liquid courage, you know.”
Ivy tried not to notice as he stepped closer, his eyes sweeping over her in obvious approval.
“I like the snowflakes.” The pattern was subtle, but when she moved, hints of blue snow swirls danced amid the green.
“I thought I’d try to live up to my nickname,” Ivy laughed at the look on Rafe’s face, and forced herself not to tug the short hem down another inch, “You think I don’t know they call me the ‘Snow Princess?’”
Rafe frowned.
“They shouldn’t do that. It’s disrespectful.”
Ivy shrugged, “Maybe when it’s Stans or Aubern, but for most of them it’s affectionate. Remember, my father has been bringing most of them toys on Christmas Eve their entire lives. If they want to think of me as some strange magical fairy creature, they’re not that far off.”
“I don’t like it. I’m going to speak to them.”
“Please, don’t.”
Impulsively, Ivy placed a hand on his arm, and sudde
nly, the banked admiration in his eyes roared into flaming hunger that sucked all the air out of the room. She snatched her hand back.
Oh dear God, she thought, Rafe wants me.
Completely panicked, she put the width of the desk between them.
He never wanted me before. Or maybe he did, but he’d never let her see it.
Why now? Maybe because it was Christmas Eve and the whole office was celebrating. Maybe because the alcohol had loosened his tight grip on his control. And Ivy didn’t need a jot of experience to know that Rafe liked control – it was evident from every move he made, from the way he dealt with clients to the way he ordered his coffee. If she didn’t know better, she’d assume he was prescient or magical himself – he decided how things would go, and that was precisely the way they went. The few times he came up against a situation he couldn’t control, heads rolled and mountains toppled. It was a good way to keep your employees on their toes.
It was a good way to keep a girl wary of getting too close, lest she lose her head. Or her panties.
Ivy wondered what it would take to make him just let go and give in to the urges she saw burning in his eyes. She wondered, after he fucked her the way she’d been dreaming of, taught her everything she needed to know to please him and herself with that incredible body he hid under finely-tailored suits, whether she’d be brave enough to ask him to do a few of the wicked things she’d always been curious about. She had a long list, because Kringles loved lists.
She wondered if she might be losing her mind.
“Everything okay?” Rafe’s voice was soft and deep.
“Fine, I just have a few things to finish up.”
“Leave it. There’s a party out there. Didn’t you notice?”
He rounded the desk, and she was trapped. Ivy tried not to freeze as he stepped close and reached into a pocket, pulling out a little box.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Kringle.”
“Oh,” Her insides melted a little, “I didn’t get you anything.”
Ivy squelched the shiver that raced through her as his eyes slid downward to briefly caress her figure. There was nothing indecent about her dress – a fitted but not too tight bodice held up by tiny straps, it flared out into a fluttery skirt that glittered when she walked. It was a little short by conservative standards, but nowhere near what a person could consider provocative. Under Rafe’s hot gaze, Ivy thought she’d feel more covered up in a g-string and tassels.
