Nice: A Dark Christmas Duet book 1

by Vivian Murdoch

  "Nice offer, but I'm good." My cock leaps up to attention, demanding that I indulge her. Shaking my head, I breathe in deep, hoping cold, clear air will help me regain my senses. Instead, I’m filled with her. With Caitlin.

  Her eyes narrow in a squint. "Oh, I see, too good to get a blowjob from me, but you'll carry my box anywhere. Like that's not code for something. I know your type. Get what you want then skip out. You don't fool me in the slightest."

  I lean down to listen, trying to make sense of her diatribe. "If that's code for something, I sure as hell don't know about it. Here, let me help you. You obviously need to get somewhere." I hold out my hand, willing her to take it. Though tempting, I don't want to bring out my sack and stuff her into it. There are far too many witnesses around.

  She sneers at my outstretched hand and bats it away, her lips twisted up into a snarl. "Just forget it. And forget my offer. You're not that hot after all."

  Rolling my eyes, I latch onto her hand before bending and scooping her over my shoulder. Her screech bounces off the nearby buildings, drawing the curious gazes of passersby. I growl softly and bounce her into a better position. Strong, lithe legs kick out, nearly sending her toppling from my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her thighs, pinning her into place. She still thrashes about but is in less danger of harming herself. With my free hand, I bend down and scoop up the box, casting it a casual glance. Nothing but office stuff. Grunting, I stand back up and cast an apologetic smile at the crowd.

  "She had a bit too much to drink."

  "No, I haven't!" She slurs, waving the bottle around. "I'm not drunk, I swear." The nervous faces melt into gazes of pity and understanding. "Don't just stand there! This mega hottie picked me and my box up. Help me."

  The crowd disperses, ribald jokes and chuckles littering the air. She thrashes about some more, her pleas becoming louder and more urgent.

  "Quiet, or I will make you be quiet."

  She pushes up on my back in an attempt to get her head closer to mine. "Make me, candy cane hunk."

  A small chuckle escapes my lips. I'll have to remember that one for next time. Shaking my head, I close my eyes for a moment, picturing some Christmas packing tape. After a moment or two, her words become a muffled series of grunts and mumbles, the words unable to get through the tape. With a smile, I carry my burden back to my portal. As she loses her words, her physical actions pick up. Her body heaves about, trying to dislodge itself from my iron grip. I hold on tighter, keeping her safe and secure.

  She feels so warm and small in my arms. So familiar. Too familiar. The ache I’ve been shoving to the back hits me hard, threatening to swamp me. I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts. She needs to see me at my strongest. I can’t go in with any part of me lingering in the past.

  The moment we enter the portal, her entire body goes limp. Magic tends to have that effect on humans, so I'm not worried at the moment. The bottle she held so fiercely drops from her fingers. Who even knows where the portal is going to send it. Just my luck, it will collide with my kitchen floor, making a hell of a mess.

  Closing my eyes, I clutch her closer to me as the magic gathers around our bodies. My stomach flops about as we pass through space. No matter how many times I do this, I'll never get used to it. The world finally stills, and I open my eyes to see the kitchen. I set the box down on a counter and turn towards the hidden doorway. Caitlin still hangs on my body, her entire being still and quiet. I stand there for a moment, listening to her breathing before carrying her downstairs into my dungeon.

  With one hand, I turn the table to where it's horizontal and lock it into place. Laying her down, I study her face in the dark for a few moments before leaving her to light the candles. Her body quivers under the soft shafts of candlelight, each breath sending her chest high in the air before bringing it back down. Blood zips to my shaft as I watch her lying there.

  I reach her side in a few steps, bringing one of the candles with me. The Christmas tape is a bright red against her pale cheeks. Setting the candle down, I skim my fingers over her sleeping form. The rational part of my brain screams at me for taking liberties with her while she's asleep. However, the feral part of my brain argues that she belongs to me and I can do what I want with her.

  Hard nipples poke the nondescript fabric as I slide my fingers down her breastbone. Every touch makes her react and squirm. My but she's sensitive. I can't wait to see what my tools do to her. No doubt they'll pinken her skin with just the slightest touch.

  With swift movements, I unbutton the tight shirt, noting her arching up into my movements. With a chuckle, I rip open the remaining fabric, sending buttons cascading around the dungeon. The little plinks and pings bring a smile to my lips. Staring down at my prize, I note her plain bra and frown. Too sensible for what I have in mind.

  I slide my hands under her back and clutch her to me, trying desperately to ignore the heat of her body or just how perfectly she nestles into me. My cock, however, lurches forward, desperate to bury itself in her warmth. With a growl, I pluck at the back of her bra, nearly ripping it from her body.

  Easing her back down, I tear the offending fabric from her body and cast it down to the floor. Instantly, her nipples pebble from the cool air swirling about us. Fully clothed, I barely feel a thing, but her small form shivers a bit as she lays there.

  A small whimper escapes her throat, and her brows furrow together. What is she dreaming about? My fingers twitch at my side as I keep them still. I can’t start our little foray by showing any sort of mercy. Instead, I zero in on her nipples, licking my lips as they harden even more.

  The scent of her skin calls to me like nothing ever had before. Not even the actual Angelica smelled this good. Leaning closer, I close my eyes and snake out my tongue. Just a little taste. That's all I need to soothe this raging in my brain. That's all I need.

  My tongue brushes over the taut peak, and she squirms a bit more, the most wanton sounds pouring out of her mouth. With a grin, I close my lips around her, sucking in deeply. She gasps and lurches up closer to my mouth, her body just begging me to take her in deeper. I glance up at her face, just to reassure me that she's still knocked out. Her eyelids flutter about, but that's the only movement I can see. Perfect.

  Reaching up, I slide the pads of my fingertips across her other nipple and pluck at it a few times before switching my mouth over. Fathers but she's addictive. I thought just a taste would satisfy me; however, it's becoming quite clear that I won't be satisfied until I consume all of her.

  The need grows the longer I lave at her skin, fill my nostrils with her scent. With both hands, I grab her breasts and knead the tender flesh, scrutinizing every reaction. Her full lips tremble as her body writhes under my touch. Thinking back, none of my other...guests...have been nearly that responsive.

  I can't wait to see how her body reacts to her punishment. Would she still quiver under me with pleasure, or would the pain be too much? I stare down at her, my heart thumping a violent staccato. The need to make her submit to me overriding all rational thought. I need this from her. I need this do over, this absolution. This time, I'll be the one to cast her aside, and not the other way around.

  Rage fills my body as I stare down at Caitlin. My fingers curl into a firm grasp as I grip her soft flesh. Her pants of pleasure turn into mewls of discomfort, but I don't care. She has no choice but to bend to my will, bend to my punishment.

  This is, after all, why she's here. She's not in my dudgeon for pets and kisses. She's here to learn the errors of her ways and in the process atone for that bitch that she has the misfortune of looking like.

  Letting go of one breast, I slide a finger down her cheek, her pain expression clearing almost instantly. If only she didn't look like her. Maybe then I could treat her like a normal prisoner: just punish her and send her on with her life. But no. She will pay for Angelica's sins. She doesn't know it yet, but she will be the key to my absolution.

  I let go of her other breast and ease my fing
ers down to the clasp at her pants. Making quick work of her buttons and zipper, I grip the edges and slowly peel the material down, taunting myself with slow movements and small glimpses of her skin.

  She's so pale she fairly glows in the light of the candles. My own personal Christmas fae. With a smirk, I note the no-nonsense, cotton panties. This fae is far too uptight for the naughty things I plan to do to her. My cock swells at the thought of crashing through her neat and tidy walls. Is she a screamer, I wonder? No matter, I can make her scream well enough.

  With a firm yank, I bring the pants down around her ankles and pause to remove her shoes and socks before easing the fabric to the floor. Now, all that remains is her underwear. Licking my lips, I stare at the play of flames on her nearly naked skin. A bead of precum wells up to my head before it smears against my stomach.

  Groaning, I reach over and pluck up a pillar and bring it over. I hold my breath and just watch her for a moment. Her body is still, tight, poised. Even unconscious, she's primed. Tilting my head, I scent the air. Her smell of arousal permeates the room, and my cock pulses hard against me, demanding I take the little troublemaker hard and fast: just like she deserves.

  Keeping a close eye on her, I tip the candle forward, just a little. Enough that a small splash of the hot wax escapes its prison and lands just above her belly button. Caitlin's body tenses, and she squeaks out in discomfort. Chuckling, I tip the candle again, reveling in the small squirms and breathless gaps. Enough. I put the candle down next to us and lean forward to brush my nose against her inner thigh, bringing it up her leg until I'm at her apex. I breathe deep, like a druggie doing lines. I need to distance myself before I fall in too deep.

  With a growl, I extend a fingernail and scrape it against the horrid fabric separating me from my prize. The sound of fabric ripping is the only sound filling our tiny world. In agonizing increments, the fibers separate all the way down the front until her mound is in view. The smell of her arousal thickens and my mouth waters in response.

  Leaning to the side, I swipe up to cleave the band in two and shift to the other side to do the same. Satisfied, I ease my hands in between her legs and spread her thighs, just enough to dislodge the fabric from her body. Finally, my prisoner is ready.

  I lick my lips as I stare at the glistening arousal in between her thighs. It astounds me that mortals can get so turned on by the simplest of things. With a smirk, I lean down again, fully prepared to feast upon my human.

  "Master!"

  Fuck. I freeze, my lips a hairs breath away from my goal. Her scent consumes me, enters every pore. Every ounce of me is poised to pounce upon her. "

  “What are you doing here Fredrick? You have the week off. You should be somewhere warm and tropical."

  My eyes track his movements as he makes his way fully into my dungeon. Each step is slow and calculated, his eyes pinned on me. Curling my lips back, I give him a silent growl in warning. I don't want him this close to my woman.

  Shaking my head, I dispel that quiet voice whispering insidious things into my brain. She isn't mine, nor will she ever be. I want nothing to do with her after I extract my punishment and vengeance. However, like a whisper in a howling wind, the small voice pecks at my brain, demanding I claim her and keep her forever.

  "I felt the shift, Master. I felt you might need me." He takes a few more steps closer.

  Every ounce of me screams at me, filling my brain with a loud, incessant racket. Get away! Get away! On and on it chants, growing louder the closer he's getting.

  "Back off Fredrick. You don't want to come any closer."

  "But I need to Master." He holds out his wrinkling hands in obeisance, his cloudy, blue eyes staring at me imploringly. "Please. I just want to help you prepare her for punishment. Nothing more."

  "She's mine!" I snap, the voice unrecognizable to even myself. What the hell is happening?

  "Yes, she is, Master. She is completely yours." His voice is soft and low, if not just a touch patronizing.

  A snarl lights up my brain. "Back. The fuck. Up."

  He raises his hands again before slinking back to the opening. "I understand Master, but even you know this is wrong."

  I shake my head, the voice screaming on one end, and my humanity screaming at the other. It's enough to start a small ache in my skull. Before me, my fae lies there, her body shaking, her brows furrowed. Slowly, I back away, my eyes never leaving her body. "

  “Restrain her." My voice is soft and hoarse. Nothing like my normal timber. I need to get out of here. Even if it's just for a breath of air.

  I turn, leaving Fredrick to his task. He won't touch her inappropriately. That I know for certain. I trust him with everything I own, even my life. Now, I’ve just got to convince my beast that she's safe with him. I feel him in there, rattling his chains and roaring his displeasure. If he had any say, I'd go back in there and impale my morsel on my aching cock. She's there to appease my needs and nothing else. The fact that I'm walking away fills both of us with great displeasure.

  It only takes a few moments to reach my front door. I heave it open and step outside, letting the stinging cold bite at my skin. The small slices of pain ground me and help me clear my mind. What the hell was I thinking? There's no way I can lose control like that again. Not with her. The further I separate myself, the easier I can breathe. My beast has slumped back down to lick his wounds, but I know he'll be back. I've got to fortify myself.

  With a firm nod, I start the trek out to North Pole Proper. I didn't think the time would come to see Ein Hexenmeister, but it seems like it's becoming more necessary the further this goes. I owe it to Caitlin to be at my best, even if that means seeing the old coot. I wrap my arms about me, trying to ignore the peppering of snow hitting my body like bullets. I'll consider this my penance for letting myself go that far with her.

  After what feels like hours, the town gate comes into view. The moment I cross over into the city, the snow stops, and the air is warm and heavy, easing the ache in my bones. Underneath my feet, snow still crunches, a testament to the magic of the place. Bright lights twinkle about in every hue, painting a cheery diorama. It's nauseating. From their festive shops, males and females call out their wares, their voices tinkling in the night. Even the sound of the voices ring out like sleigh bells in a crisp, cold night. The moment I enter, the joyful, raucous merriment stops for a moment. The air stills in the pregnant pause. Every time. Every damn time.

  Elves and denizens of NPP scurry away from me, their eyes tilted down to the ground. Adults grab their children and hide them behind colorful clothing. I look down at my own ensemble of pure black and sigh. Even my clothes are different.

  Shaking my head, I use every inch of willpower not to snarl and scare the children, even in good fun. But it would serve them right. They ostracize me like I'm the boogieman. What they fail to realize is, I have no beef with them. Ever.

  It's the naughty women that catch my eye. Sneering, I look at the good women of NPP with their concealing clothes and prim attitudes. None of them entice me in the smallest bit. Yeah. No one here will ever need to fear my more carnal attentions.

  I traverse the winding streets, the smells of gingerbread and hot cocoa lift on the breeze, filling my nose with its cloying scent. Pausing for a moment, I look down the darkened alley to my right and smile. The Mistletoe Lodge flashes out in the cul-de-sac a ways down, the familiar blink of red and white calms my nerves.

  At least my old haunt is still here. Perhaps I need to visit the Yule Tithings section before I go back and destroy my human. My balls tighten as I think about her, naked on my table. At this rate, I'll be blue balling even before really starting anything. Gritting my teeth, I turn from the beckoning light and continue onto my destination.

  The air grows a touch chillier as I near Ein Hexenmeister. By this point, I must be at the very edge of NPP. Many people don't come this way. It's evident by the lack of festive cheer thrown up on nearly every other surface. The slight hint of snow cr
unches under my feet, and involuntarily, I shiver. Whispers of Ein Hexenmeister filled my family house, and if the stories were to be believed, the houses before that. If there truly were a boogieman in NPP, Ein Hexenmeister would be it. But, at this point, I fear I have no other options.

  My humanity has never wavered like this before. In my centuries as Krampus, I've never lost control. Hell, it's the one thing I pride myself on. Closing my eyes, I reach down within me, trying to connect back with the beast.

  Anger, pain, and loneliness swirl up, almost like releasing a valve on a balloon. For a moment, I'm unable to see, think, or feel anything except the pain ravaging through me. It steals my breath for a moment. Leaning down, I drop my head between my knees, anything to catch my breath. I knew there were issues, but damn.

  "You don't look so hot, my friend. Can I interest you in a hot beverage?"

  My lips curl up as I prepare to blast this interloper with my ire. I lift my gaze, stopping short as my vision is assaulted by the garish fabrics in front of me. Reds, greens, whites, and blues crisscross in a dizzying pattern. My brain tries to make sense of it, find some sort of pattern, but it's failing hopelessly. Traveling further up, I eye the paunchy figure, making my way up to a jovial face. If I didn't know better, my first thought would be Kringle, but not only is he dead, the face is a night and day difference from Father Christmas. The twinkle in his eye and quick smile is the same, but that's the only thing. Still, my heart clenches for a moment at the sight.

  "No thank you. I'm actually heading somewhere."

  He looks around, a chuckle bouncing his belly up and down. Again, a shaft of pain hits my heart, leaving me breathless.

  "To be this far from town, I can only assume you're here to see Ein Hexenmeister."

  The knowing look in his eyes makes my stomach turn a bit. His gaze is one that knows too much. One that can see through anything. I put my head back down, intimated by that gaze. My gut churns as I look at the snow.