A growl of rage struggled to surface in Nik’s chest and if the man wasn’t already dead…Nikolai had to remind himself of what he was, and how wrong it was to wish ill on the dead. And it didn’t work. Bryan was as perfect as any child could be. His hearing had mattered little. A gifted child, and his own father had shunned him, and then he had taken him away from his mother and endangered him—
“Bryan, aye, I know of you, little brother. Welcome. We will talk, you and I. I will tell you of the real elves, the sidhe, and fey and leprechauns and selkies as well. Don’t be listening to this Russian brute too much,” Brenna teased, ruffling Bryan’s hair and chucking him under the chin.
“You talk pretty,” Bryan said, looking up at her with a winsome smile.
Charmed, Brenna lapsed into Gaelic and lowered her head to kiss him on the nose as he giggled. “Welcome to the Northern Reach, little brother.” Then she turned her eyes to Chelly.
“Welcome, Chantelle.” Brenna gave her a broad smile. “Though I canna see how you will tolerate this bear’s surly moods for more than a week. The boss is in his office. The Council is nagging him, telling him he should at least try to look more…rotund.” She poked Nikolai’s lean belly with one finger and said impishly, “Whatever will they do with you?”
Nikolai smiled and shrugged as she moved away.
“So we get to see him, huh? Santa Claus? I wonder if I’ll find out why I never got that black cat I wanted when I was ten,” Chantelle said. “You’ll have to do something pretty impressive to make me believe.”
Nikolai wisely didn’t respond as they rounded the corner. He loved this walk. The hall was of golden oak, polished and gleaming, the windows of stained glass. Each one made to resemble the last reigning Claus. Soon, Alisdair McNeil of Scotland would join them as he retired back to his homeland. He had sat in the office at the end of this walk for three centuries, the tenure for each Claus, and he was ready—very ready, and very tired, very sad, since his wife had died suddenly less than a decade ago.
Elvin folk tended to live well into their second millennia. And Brielle had only been eight-hundred-fifty-two years old. Alisdair had never quite recovered from the loss. He would retire, and quietly grieve.
And a new elf would take his place.
Nikolai knocked on the carved wood of the door and waited until the heavily accented Scots voice invited, “Enter, Nikolai. And ye’d better be in a better mood than you have been these past months. I’m in no mood to tolerate you after listening…”
Alisdair’s voice trailed away as he caught sight of Bryan and Chantelle. His eyes, twinkling blue, gentle and soft, settled first on Bryan. The boy, usually so nervous and shy with strangers, looked at the bearded man and smiled. Broadly and easily. And he said simply, “Hi, Santa.”
“Hello, Bryan. Did you like the trucks and trains you got last year?” Santa/Alisdair asked as Bryan squirmed out of Nik’s arms, trotted over to the chair and climbed up onto the older man’s lap.
Bryan nodded vigorously.
Alisdair laughed. “I thought you would. Especially since you played so hard one of them was broken by New Year’s Day. But your mama fixed it all up, didn’t she?”
Nik heard Chantelle’s soft gasp and he moved behind her, resting a strong hand on her waist as her body started to sag.
“And what of this year? What do you want for this year, lad?”
“I already gotted it—my ears are all fixed. And we never thought they could,” Bryan said, grinning hugely. His freckled nose wrinkled and he scratched it with a small hand. “The words sound funny, and sometimes people talk too fast. But I can hear, and Mama’s voice is so pretty.”
Chelly muffled a sob against her hand as Alisdair smiled gently at Bryan. “Your hearing isn’t a gift we gave you for Christmas. That didna come from us—not exactly. It came from the Maker. The One who made Christmas possible. So it’s not the present we needed to talk about. And we can talk nice and slow, and use some sign language as well.”
Alisdair went on as he stroked Bryan’s head, speaking slowly, staring into the boy’s face, signing a few words from time to time as he said, “I remember your mama. Chelly, your grandparents called her when she was little. And she wanted a black cat when she was oh, ten, I think. But she’s allergic to cats. She did not go finding that out until she was in high school, but we knew. Can’t go getting her a present she wouldn’t be able to keep.”
Make me believe.
Nik heard the words circling around in her head and felt the impending dizziness just as she started to sway. He caught her against him and carried her out the door with a quick thought to Alisdair to occupy the boy. He was already doing it, with a pleased smile. Playing with children was something he never got enough of, and something he truly enjoyed.
Chelly awoke back in that wide, sumptuous bed, her heart racing, her mouth dry, and her head woozy.
She was in the North Pole.
She had seen Santa Claus.
He was real.
The presents last year…the ones she didn’t think she had bought, and convinced herself she had. They had come from here, they had to have.
And Nik…Nikolai was one of his elves. Nikolai was truly an elf. Truly magic.
“Da.”
She barely saw him move and then his mouth was against hers in the darkness of the room and his thoughts were filling her mind. So many, many years I have ached to touch, to taste, he told her as hard hot hands slid up her torso, around her ribcage and up her back, until he was cupping her neck and angling her lips up for his kiss, pushing his tongue deep inside her mouth, groaning greedily, hungrily.
Nikolai.
One of his hands fisted in her hair while the other went racing down her body, cupping and molding her breast, pinching her nipple until she was squirming against his body. Dropping to his knees and staring down at her, his electric blue eyes glowing hotly in the dim room as he watched her. Gripping the edges of her shirt he tore it open, and fastened his gaze on her breasts, hidden still by the lace of her bra.
“Lovely.” His voice was deep and guttural as he ran the roughened tip of his finger over the edge of the bra and smiled as she shivered, arching up. Sliding his forearm under her and lifting her up, arching her higher and taking one pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deep and suckling hard, he had her moaning and keening against his mouth. Her legs straddled one of his thighs, and she rocked against him, riding the muscled length of his thigh and whimpering.
Nik felt the throbbing of his cock and groaned as she rubbed her belly against him, her small soft hands roaming restlessly on his shoulders. They dipped in his hair and fisted as she clasped him against her breast and the frantic movement of her hips increased. Nostrils flaring, he caught the desperate, hungry scent of her body. She was close, very close to coming, and through the barriers of their clothing he could feel how hot she was, how wet she was. Hungry little moans rose and died in her throat as she pushed her tongue inside his mouth, her nails biting into his shoulders.
He moved his lips down her pointed little cat’s chin, and bit lightly before kissing a hot trail down her throat. Lifting her up and closing his mouth over the hot, erect point of one swollen nipple, he listened with sharp satisfaction to the little scream that filled the room. “Scream again, Chantelle.” His mental voice purred inside her mind, pushing beyond the surprisingly tough shields so he could murmur inside her head. “Come for me, let me feel it.” He tugged at the fastening of her jeans as he whispered to her, stroking the bud of her breast with his tongue and teeth, worrying it gently, then roughly as he worked her jeans down lower and lower. Palms on the firmly rounded cheeks of her ass, he caressed the crevice there before stripping away her jeans and silk panties and tumbling her onto her back—staring hungrily down at her, pushing her thighs wide.
Eynou, she had removed the hair from her mound, just a narrow little path of hair right at her pubic bone, leaving the lips of her sex smooth and bare. “Hmmm, look at that,” he
purred roughly, sliding one finger through the cream gleaming in her folds. He slipped his finger into his mouth and groaned hungrily. “What a taste you have, sweet. Oh, what a taste.” He sprawled between her thighs and opened her, plunging his tongue deep inside her as she arched up with a weak, wild cry, climaxing at once against his mouth.
He worked two fingers inside her, feeling her tighten around him and shudder as she twisted and whimpered under his hands and mouth. The sweet clasp of her cleft hugged his fingers and Nik swore as his cock pressed into his belly, burning him like a branding iron. He wanted, badly, so badly, to get inside her. The chaotic whirl of her thoughts filtered through his mind and he knew he could have her, but he didn’t want her to regret it later.
She had to stay, had to want it.
As if she had been reading his mind as clearly as he had been reading hers, she whimpered, “Nik, please. Damn it, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this with you.” She opened her eyes and stared up at him, her gaze gleaming with want, need, and tears of sheer frustration as she surged up and pressed her mouth hungrily to his. Eating at his mouth, sucking his lower lip into hers, she gasped when he caught her hands and pinned her to bed, crushing her body beneath his.
“Know this.” His voice was a rough growl in her ear as he wedged her thighs apart with his and reached for the buttons at his fly. “I want badly to take you, mark you as mine. And if I do, you are mine. I will never let you or the boy leave me. Mine to keep. I cannot leave the Northern Reach. My destiny, my life is here. Are you certain?”
In reply, Chantelle reached down and pushed his hands aside, sliding the buttons of his fly free and shoving the denim of his pants aside, catching his hard, heavy length in her hands and sending a rumbling growl through him as she stroked him with soft, cool hands. Nikolai shuddered, lowering his brow to press against hers. “Mine to keep, da?” he asked, staring with near desperation into her eyes, as he pressed the tip of his cock against the wet portal of her sex.
A slow feline curl of her lips had his heart leaping in his chest.
He used one big hand to tilt her hips up as he surged slowly forward, hot, wet tissues closing over the engorged head of his cock as he stared down into her eyes. Her lids lowered to half-mast and her tongue slid out to wet her lips as a sigh shimmered out of her. “Nik…”
At the sound of his name on her lips—in that heavy, sultry voice—his control snapped, and he pushed deep, driving hard and fast into her, until he was lodged hilt-deep. The head of his cock rested at the very mouth of her womb as her eyes opened in shock and she screamed out his name, her nails biting into his skin.
He moved higher on her body, shifting so that he was riding her clit with each stroke, and she started to convulse around him, the clasp of her pussy tightening around him with each deep, driving thrust as he caught her thrashing head, fisting the gleaming golden-brown locks around one hand and pushing his tongue deep into her mouth, feeding on her taste.
Chelly sobbed into his mouth as he caught one thigh in his other hand, pushing it high, draping it over his arm, opening her wide so he could fuck her deep and hard. She wailed, her head falling back, away from his hungry, greedy kiss. His avid, seeking mouth found one hard, pebbled nipple and fastened onto it, sucking it deep, until it was pressing against the roof of his mouth and throbbing.
“Mine to keep…”
His mental voice filled her mind, a soft, seductive caress, a sharp contrast to the thick, burning fullness of his cock invading her cleft. She screamed out his name as she started to come again, opening her eyes and staring up at him as he pushed onto his knees and caught her clit between his thumb and forefinger, staring down and watching the play of his fingers on her body.
She stared hypnotized at his body, the gleaming muscles of his chest, covered by a light film of sweat, the rhythmic play of his washboard belly as he pushed his thick cock inside her. Something odd…a twisted, puckered scar, old, low on his belly, between his hipbone and his navel caught her eye, but then his cock twitched, and her mouth went dry as she stared at his sex, ruddy, and gleaming wet with her cream—the sheer erotic sight sent her screaming into another orgasm, and this time she felt his cock jerk, and the hot flood of his come as he climaxed inside her.
He crushed her body into the soft mattress, his mouth coming down on hers as he pounded his hips against her, growling deep in his throat, biting her lower lip, his tongue seeking out hers and tangling with it hungrily as they both went flying into orgasm. A series of hot, rhythmic contractions from her drew out his climax until he finally collapsed atop her in exhaustion.
“Where’s Byran?” she asked numbly once she was able to breathe again. She still couldn’t feel her toes. Or her fingers. She wasn’t sure she could feel her hands or knees either. She was going to have to take stock in a few minutes. But first things first. Bryan.
“With Alisdair.” He had rolled onto his back, taking her with him and now he cuddled her slim body to his chest, smoothing one hand down her naked, gleaming back, sighing in contentment. One of her hands ran over his pecs, flattening over the pounding of his heart. He felt her smile slightly.
“Your heart is racing as fast as mine.” Then she lifted her head, her feathery brown bangs falling into her cloudy, sleepy green eyes. “Alisdair, you said? I don’t want my son with somebody I don’t know, somebody I’ve never met. Even if you know and trust him—”
“You have met him already. You were just in his office a while ago,” he reminded her, reaching up and brushing her hair away from her eyes. “And Alisdair is more trustworthy than any man you will ever meet.”
“I’ve only met Suh—hell. I can’t even say it. It doesn’t seem real.”
“That is more a title, like Mr. President, or His Majesty. His given name is Alisdair, not Santa Claus. And Bryan is with him.” Nik’s lids drooped as she shifted and sat up atop him, staring down at him.
A dry laugh escaped her lips. “My son…my son is being babysat by Santa Claus. Oh, that’s rich. That’s a good one,” she said, sighing and shaking her head.
“I’ll be sure to let him know how amused you are.”
Her nipples puckered and tightened in the cool air and she smiled as his eyes slid from her face down to her torso, darkening to cobalt, glowing in the dimness of the room, a palpable heat flowing from them to caress her. “So lovely. You like to tease me, da?”
The husky, low timbre of his voice flowed over her like a caress, tightening her flesh. “I like knowing you want me, knowing you are real. I’ve dreamed of you, for so long.” His hands came up to rest on her waist, then stroke upward, until he was cupping her breasts in his hands, pinching and tweaking her nipples until she was shifting and rocking against the thick, hot length of his cock.
She braced her hands against the broad, golden expanse of his chest, staring down into his bewitching eyes. His black hair was spilled beneath him, like a silken, black cape, and the carved, exotic bones of his face captured her eye and made her chest hurt, he was so beautiful. And he kept staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
“Da, you are,” he murmured, reaching up, twining his hands in her hair and pulling her lips to meet his, shifting his hips and piercing her, sliding his cock inside her, where she was wet from him. “Most beautiful, most lovely. And mine to keep. And I will make you believe that, Chantelle. You will see.”
He breathed the words against her mouth before plunging his tongue deep inside, stroking her tongue, her palate, everywhere he could reach, as he slid his hands down and cupped her ass, moving her in a slow, steady rhythm and rocking his hips up and down, pushing his cock deep and high, piercing the very mouth of her womb.
As a long, shuddering contraction gripped his cock, Nik pulled his mouth from her and buried her face in his neck, gritting his teeth and holding onto his control. Not yet…not yet. He ran his fingers through the crevice of her bottom and felt her quiver. Shifting, he moved her body so that he could stoke her c
lit. The hot, silky cream of her sex coated him, and her cleft hugged him tightly, making him swear silently as she started to come around him.
With a rough groan, he threw control to the wind and drove his shaft inside and fucked her roughly, setting his teeth into her shoulder and listening to her scream out his name. Gripping her ass with one hand, he wet one finger with her cream and started to probe her rosette with the other. Feeling her shudder and sob and go into spasms around him the hot, silken little hole gripped his finger tightly even as his cock jerked and he pumped her full of his seed.
“Hmmm, sweet, sweet little Chantelle,” he purred into her hair, cuddling her against his chest, rubbing his chin against her hair as she gasped for air. “Mine…”
A wave of bitterness washed up out of nowhere and she sighed against his chest. “You made certain of that, didn’t you? I’m stuck here, aren’t I? Bryan can’t go back into the real world now, can he? My place is with my son.”
And to that, Nikolai had no answer.
Chapter Six
Christmas Eve in the North Pole.
No, the Northern Reach. Chelly stood watching as people hurried around her. She wasn’t the only mortal. As she stood in her borrowed jeans and sweater, cuddling Bryan against her chest, she saw more mortals rushing by than she could count.
It was easy to pick them out.
The humans, including herself, were less…vibrant.
Lacking something. The elves had larger eyes, Bambi’s eyes, Bryan had called them, almond-shaped, large and gleaming, in brilliant jewel-tone hues. And shimmering, gleaming hair. Even their skin seemed to glow with vitality and health and…life.
Make Me Believe Page 3
