Saint Nick

8. December

Standing on her threshold, Hazel took a step back as he came in, holding a brown bag over his shoulder. His eyes did a take down her body, slowly moving up her long legs to her curvy hips, the dip of her waist and the plunge of her breasts. Lingering at the lace garment pieces, he nodded slowly and crooked a smile.

"Looks like I'm the one finally getting a present this year."

Hazel felt herself burn under his stare, but couldn't help but admire him as well. He wasn't wearing his beard anymore, but his hat sat askew, the end of it resting on his shoulder. His suit was slightly undone, open at the neck, and exposing the smooth, bare skin beneath it, the faint kisses of chest hair. His Santa boots were large and his pants were loose, but didn't hide the present he had brought her.

Tonight was going to get interesting.

"Santa," She smirked, giving him a little innocent look as he stepped in and kicked the door shut. "I've been waiting for you."

"Yeah?" He slowly lowered the sack off of his shoulder. He cocked a brow at her getup. "Have you been a good girl this year?"

She bit her lip at the playful glint in his eyes. Were they really doing this? "Well, you see... I really tried, but I might've... misbehaved once or twice."

"Oh-oh," He took a step closer, lifting his hand to her cheek. "That doesn't sound too good, darling."

"I was hoping I could make it up somehow," She pressed her hand against his chest, slipping it up, toying with the end of his Santa hat. "Maybe there's... something I could do."

God, she sounded like a bad porno, but her heart was racing as he slowly smirked at her, brushing his thumb over her blushing cheek.

"Oh, darling," He lingered just beyond her lips. "I think we can work something out."

"I... oh, screw it," She grabbed his hat and yanked it off, combing her hands through his thick brown locks, pulling him down. "Fuck me right this second, you fucking tease."

He chuckled and grasped her hands when she tried to pull him along, get him to the couch where she could straddle him, but to her dismay, he stopped her. "Not tonight, Hazel. Tonight there's gonna be no rush. I'm gonna spend all night here exploring your body and you're gonna have to deal with the fact that tonight, I'm taking charge. Understood?"

Dominant Santa – Hazel's childhood just blew up into pieces.

Nodding, she then gulped down when his lips pressed themselves against her cheek, slowly moving her neck. Nibbling on her throat, she felt goosebumps spread across her skin as he laved a path down, reaching the hills of her breasts. Smoothing his hands up her sides, they went around back and made quick process with the clasp of her bra. Snapping it off, he slid it off her shoulders, then cupped both her full mounds, weighing them.

"I could write sonnets about these breasts, Hazel. Dirty, fucking sonnets."

His mouth closed around one dusky nipple, earning a garbled sound from her lips. His tongue swirled around it slowly, his other hand pinching her neglected nipple between two fingers. She let out a sharp gasp and felt a gush of heat flood to her panties, the pull on her nipple sending a zing through her body.

She was going to be docile by the end of the night, if not the mere hour.

Curling her fingers through his hair, she moaned softly as he switched side and gave her other nipple the same amount of attention. Slowly, his hand skimmed down her stomach to the cleft between her legs.

Hazel squirmed and clenched her thighs when he cupped her and rubbed her through the fabric. Oh, Hell, she was already gushing.

Pushing his hand into her panty, she gasped as his finger slid between her folds, circling her warm clit. His lips still tugged at her nipple, biting gently into it, dragging it between his teeth. Her breath started to leave her chest shallowly, her body and mind turning elated and needy.