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Siaak's Christmas by A.D. Steward

by A.D. Stewart


Siaak glanced up at the star-filled night sky. Wrapping his heavy cloak around his shoulders, he questioned his mentality at following humans across the desert. They normally got him into trouble with their insatiable thirst for knowledge. But the rumors spreading like wildfire about the Christ child spurred his curiosity, so who was he to argue? Besides, it might come in handy with his fight against the BloodSeekers.

Swaying in his saddle, Siaak kept the bright, flashing star to the north in his sights at all times. Each night, he spoke into the minds of the wandering kings, making sure to warn them against King Herod. Something told him the three magi were nothing like that vile ruler. Siaak’s hatred for the evil king had grown after Herod killed his own wife and sons. Other rumors spoke of Herod wanting to kill the King of the Jews. So perhaps he could be of help. And if he posed as another magus, he could protect the babe.
***
A fortnight later, Siaak found his suspicions were correct. Using his skills as a warrior, he spent every waking moment defending Melchior, Gaspar and Balthazar from Herod’s men from all manner of dangers. And when they happened upon a band of soldiers sent to kill the babe, Siaak used his powers to create a sandstorm. Careful of detection, he made sure the storm killed the men. This way they could not report back to Herod.
Within a few measures, the travelers reached the walls of Bethlehem. Siaak sensed a power nearby and kept close to the magi. Pulling his sword free, he dismounted and walked beside the men.
“Stranger, will thou not speak this night?” King Melchior asked as he chewed a length of seasoned meat.
Siaak glanced up at the man dressed in the finest blue robes he’d ever seen. Silver threads spun a turban that covered the King’s head like a glowing crown in the moonlight. “It is my desire to set eyes upon the child, and nothing will keep me from achieving it.”
Melchior bowed his head in agreement before glancing skyward from the bright star down to a small stable. All the men noticed the strange glow that emanated from the structure not more than a furlong distant.
Siaak ushered the holy and wise kings onward while he stayed back to take in the sleeping village. He felt tonight was more important than these mortal men could comprehend. And when the camels came to a stop and the men dismounted and began removing small bundles, Siaak forgot his oath.
“What are you doing?”
King Gaspar turned slowly, his face hidden in the shadows. “They are but small gifts, to show our humble servitude…”
Siaak turned to take in the other men’s nods of agreement and watched in silence as each man strode across the sandy ground into the bright light that flooded the wooden stable.
, Siaak waved his hands and made his sword disappear. Tonight was different. He could feel warmth spreading across his limbs. And before he realized it, Siaak was stood within the small shelter, witnessing Melchior, King of Arabia hand over bags of gold. Gaspar, King of Tarsus, in robes of the deepest red, brought myrrh and, Balthazar, King of Ethiopia, displayed his gift of frankincense. Once the men were happy with the blessing of the babe, they stood back and swept open their arms, imploring Siaak to enter.
Siaak the SandWalker unwound his turban from across his head. The father and mother stood to the side of the manger. Both of them graced Siaak with their names before displaying the pleasant, proud smiles all new parents wear, urging him to look. Siaak bowed before the kings, and to Mary and Joseph. The moment his eyes took in the small bundle, he lost all thought and reached out his hand with one finger extended. The very second baby Jesus touched Siaak’s index finger, he felt the power from the small baby transfer up to him, and suddenly his mind was crowded with images of this child’s life. Tears formed the moment the baby locked eyes with him. Siaak felt a shockwave through his body. This beautiful child would lead a short life, but would gain many followers, even after his death. Siaak bowed his head, reached inside his white robes, pulled out a chalice and handed it to Mary. “This is my offering to your son. Watch over him—he is a precious gift who many will fight to the death over.”
Siaak bowed once more to the wise kings and left without a backward glance. Unable to stop the tears, he walked until he could walk no more. Would the humans never see that they need not fear the things they could not understand? He knew the answer, but for now, he would relish knowing he had touched something far greater. The understanding of the human’s God, their creator, their almighty Lord.
Siaak is a character from A.D. Stewart’s exciting novel of romance and adventure in Egypt – Black Pyramid soon to be available from kNight Romance Publishing www.knightromancepublishing.com
You can visit A.D. Stewart at http://www.ancientbreeds.co.uk/ She loves to hear from readers and discuss all manner of things Egyptian!

More Holiday Headlines


by R.M. Gilbert     
   A holiday short to accompany Holiday Headlines 
Available now!

        “Come here.” Smith smiled as he darted between the end table and chair, laughing.
        Paige halted at the back of the couch. Smith stopped opposite her. They breathed heavy. Her fingers dug into the cloth. Eyes narrowed on Smith as she waited for him to make a move.  His dark hair shielded the view of his gaze. His mouth curved into a mischievous grin when, rather than going around the furniture, he lunged over it and grabbed hold of her. She toppled into him.
        “Your friends will be here soon, and I need to finish getting ready.”
        “No you don’t, you’re perfect,” he whispered against her hair. “Besides Ty’s never on time.”
        After a year together, she hadn’t tired of the deep rumble in his voice. “Do you think he’ll like me?”
        “They’re both going to love you.”
        She drew back slightly and gave a weak smile. It wasn’t every year she spent her holiday with paranormal beings, this from the same woman who recently returned from tracking a demon. Going on the road with Smith to track the supernatural seemed altogether different than befriending them. What would they talk about, blood?
        God, what am I thinking? Maybe it wouldn’t be too late to call it off. In that same second, the doorbell rang.
        “They’re here!” her voice squeaked. “I’m not dressed, the table’s not set—”
        “You get dressed, I’ll let them in.” He kissed her forehead then moved toward the door.
        Paige raced to the bedroom, her heart thudded beneath her rib cage.
        “It’s just a vampire and a witch. No big deal,” she muttered as she sifted through an array of shirts in her closet. She tried on multiple tops. Short sleeved, long sleeved, a wool sweater, a silk button down, one with a plunging neckline. Crap, crap, crap. Paige tossed aside several others until she held in her hands the ideal piece of clothing.
        Slipping the shirt on, she looked in the mirror. The forest green turtleneck was perfect—considering the company. Paige smoothed out her hair with her fingers then turned her attention to a pair of black dress pants.
        “About ready in there?” Smith called quietly through the door.
        Ready as I’ll ever be, she thought as she went to greet their guests. Paige turned the corner and made her way into the living room. Blood pounded in her ears, her palms became slick with sweat, when she spotted a tall man in a black trench standing near the door.
        “You must be Ty,” she began.
        He turned slowly. Long lashes accentuated his dark eyes, making them look even more wild and ravenous. His upper lip curled back to expose fanged teeth.
        Paige stumbled back. Colliding hard into Smith, whose grip tightened on her upper arms, she steadied herself against him. “His teeth…” A slight, slender woman with enormous gray eyes and short choppy red hair emerged from behind Ty. She donned a black witch’s hat, which came to a sharp point.
        “She’s got a…a…” Paige stuttered again.
        Smith and Ty burst out laughing. The woman immediately looked apologetic and slipped the hat from her head. “I’m sorry, it was a joke, an ice breaker. I’m Dina.”
        Paige stared between them. Ty yanked a pair of plastic fangs out of his mouth. His tongue ran over perfect non-fanged teeth. The twinkle in his dark eyes reminded her of Smith, who was probably behind the whole creepy introduction.  Her heart beat a million times faster than normal, but looking at them now she knew they didn’t mean any harm. Weaving her fingers through Smith’s, she crossed the short distance and extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
***
        It may have seemed like a cruel joke. Yet, after the initial introductions, Paige didn’t seem to have any trouble warming up to Dina, or Dina to her. They talked about Five Oaks and the previous winter and England, where Dina and Ty lived now.
        “So what brought you back?” Smith asked.
        Ty paused with his glass of red wine mid-way to his mouth. Dina’s fingers dug into his thigh and Smith knew there was trouble.
        “I wondered if I might ask another favor of you.”
        “What’s that?” Smith kept a smile on his face, but worried over his friend’s serious tone.
        Silence stretched throughout the room, Smith’s unease grew. Ty only ever got serious about two things Conclave business and Dina.
        His friend started slow. “You know the Conclave needs good scouts?”
        Smith nodded. Their lack of scouts was the reason he took on missions for the Vampire Conclave to begin with.
        “They sent me here to ask you to join us,” Ty said sounding uneasy.
        Paige’s brows furrowed. “Join them?”
        Ty was asking Smith for it all, to become like him. He looked at Paige, her beautiful hazel eyes glazed over in disbelief. He whispered, “I’ll have to think about it.”
        “About what?” Paige’s voice came out broken. Pain and anger washed over her features. “What is there to think about?”
        Ty stood. “We’ll stick around a few days and wait for your decision. I’m willing to change you both, if it’s what you want.”
        “Change us both?” Paige shoved off the couch. “I think you should leave.”
        “Give it some thought. Together you’ll save lives,” Dina said as she and Ty stood.
        “We’ll be in touch.” Ty gave a curt nod and as fast as they came, they left.
        Smith had never expected this. He’d definitely never asked for it, but he knew to dismiss Ty would be a big mistake. There was Paige to think about. If he refused the Conclave he might put her in harm’s way.  He would never risk that.
        “You know, I may not have a choice?” he said going to the door to look outside.  
        Paige came behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. Her breasts pressed against his back, he felt the wild beating of her heart.
        “There’s always a choice,” she said softly.
        “You’re right.” His hand covered hers. And it’s being made for me.


Caught Naked by Sarah Masters


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Caught NAKED

~by Sarah Masters~


   
The bright swathe of a flashlight cut through the darkness, the beam arcing across the concrete floor of the warehouse. Naked, Marc stood behind a pallet of boxes that stretched to twice his height. He held his breath.
Jesus fucking Christ. Go away. Don’t find me.
He peered between his pallet and the next, the aisle barely wide enough for a body to walk through without their shoulders brushing the polythene covering the boxes. He’d hear whoever was coming, despite their barely perceptible footsteps—the polythene would rustle.
Unless they walk sideways. Shit!
Why the hell Jake thought it would be fun to meet and fuck here, Marc didn’t know. He was all for having sex in unusual places, but the warehouse where they worked? Okay, they knew the layout, knew where all the cameras were outside so they’d avoid detection coming in, but come on!
Seems someone’s detected me anyway.
Jake had texted five minutes ago to say he would be late. Stuck in traffic—what a damn cliché! Reckoned he’d be here in about half an hour, but that was no good to Marc at the moment. He’d left his clothes in his locker and made his way here to their meeting spot, not expecting security to be working on Christmas Eve.
He thought about his options. If he was caught he could say he’d forgotten his phone, had come back using his keys to get in. Had heard a noise in the warehouse himself and was just checking it out when he saw the flashlight.
Sounds plausible…if I wasn’t naked.

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On the Naughty List by Mahalia Levey


  
Jericha blew on her cup of coffee. Her cursor blipped across the screen. Dare she? Her heartbeat accelerated and her palms grew damp. She flicked a glance toward the door separating her from her crush and chewed on her bottom lip. Dane Savage had become gossip for the office. Not only did he have a “no playing” policy, he hadn’t looked at any woman in the office—no tit glances, no ass glances. Nothing. Tall, lean, bronze, eyes the color of a turbulent storm. Chiseled face, broad shoulders, cleft in his chin. His parents sure got it right.
     With a name like Savage, a girl had to wonder if he indeed was as his name implied. Or was he a gentle lover who knew how to milk every response out of a woman’s body? His door opened, and she sipped from her cup and turned away. The male associate who left his office looked pale. Into the lion’s den and out alive, which was more than she could say for a few other employees. Damn if she wouldn’t love to be in their shoes, pleading for a second chance.
The only problem was, Jericha didn’t know how to be deviant, not in a professional sense. Her shorthand was fabulous, and knowledge about the company and its assets, including the boss’, dripped off her tongue when asked.
     In a perfect world she was the perfect assistant—who wanted her fine-ass boss to drool over her busty chest, slap the globes of her ass and fuck her mercilessly. She wanted to be noticed. Hell, she’d give up her toys, the whole box of them, for one night of pleasure with Dane.
     “Dane…” She let his name fall softly off her lips and sighed.
     Desperate times called for desperate measures. Her naughty poem stared back at her. When she’d written it at home, she imagined him as her “Santa”.
     The issue at hand—how to make him realize she sent it?
     I’m a genius. 
     
To: Execbosssavage@globalsrt.org
From: Santasnaughtynymph@yourpole.com


'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the condo
everyone was fucking, even the mice.
cocks aplenty all wrapped up with care
hoping Viagra wouldn’t be needed there.
There was Jemma and Jessa
and Kelly, all locked up together
Squeals and moans rang from their room
And he with his flogger and I with my gag
had just started playing with hopes of getting tagged.
The noises were aplenty.
Complaints less than a few.
When Santa Dane touched down
Saliva started to pool.
He blew down the chimney
He came into my room.
I said, “Santa, Sir,
you’re finally here!”
He looked at me smirking
And kicked out my date
He took hold of a strap
And said,
“Where’s my naughtiest girl at?”
After lifting my skirt,
he stood there in awe,
his cock straining in front of me
from the red welts he saw.
Ran his hands in my garters,
crotchless panties of blue silk
He took out his camera,
he put on his flash.
He proceeded to snap pictures
for his own private stash.
As things got hotter
Santa started to sweat.
He took off his red suit
to show me a glimpse of what I’d get.
His meat, it was gigantic
just like his reindeer pets.
He said, “Don’t be worried, it’ll be
A perfect fit.”
He then plowed and spanked me
And slapped at my tits
And I begged for more
When he got through with me,
I’d never been so sore.
He said it was reindeer dust
that gave him his speed.
And naughty girls like me
help satisfy his need. 

     Jericha stopped reading, deciding what to do. Under mistletoe she’d reveal who she was, up close and personal. Elation surged through her as she hit send to his office email.
Her senses told her he’d find the poem arousing. She’d studied him shyly, of course, none-too-blatant.
     The switchboard rang.
     “Global SRT, this is Jericha. How can I direct your call? Mr. Savage is in meetings; I’ll direct you to his voicemail. Have a good day.” She answered forty more calls with the same outcome and reached for her bottle of spring water. Just as she recapped it, Mr. Savage came out looking a bit red in the face.
     Yes.
     “Is there something you need, sir?”
     “No. Need to go for a walk, get some water.” He rapped on the edge of her desk and walked out of the office.
     An invitation posted on the bulletin board invited all employees and their dates to the company bash, complete with alcohol and finger foods. Associates were encouraged to bring a secret Santa present and to participate in the grand prize drawings.
Tonight she’d snag the big one. She’d haul out the big guns and go for what she wanted. Take no prisoners. Game set.
                                                                         *****
     Hours later, in the comfort of his home, Dane Savage still reeled over the email he’d received. He dressed for the party with care. Instead of a top designer suit, he put on slacks and a form-fitting, charcoal grey shirt. At first he thought the email was spam, until he looked at it again, thinking it was the actual poem. Thank God his office was private and his groans remained unheard. Reading the naughty email aroused him in ways he hadn’t been in ages. Made him think of old times. He loved a dirty woman, and whoever the sender was, he could only hope she’d be as hot as her naughty mind showed. Plowing took on a new meaning. He could add pummeling, thrusting and pumping right into the mix.
     Twenty single women worked for him. His direct email was listed on the company roster. He hoped he’d narrow it down by the party. Singling out the one might prove difficult. Ninety percent had hit on him until he’d rebuffed their offers.
    Paddles, toys and hard-fast sex. The activities he’d forsaken.
    Jericha. He held a fondness for her more than any of the others. Her voice sounded like rich velvet when he called her desk. He’d noticed her breasts the first time he’d met her. Her distraction gave him time to pull his act together. She had hips to die for. The scent she wore must’ve been created just for her and added to his fantasies. Him being ten years her senior was the first thing that had stopped him from acting on his lust drive.
    The unexpected death of his fiancée was the second. Instead of returning to the dating world, he’d found women had changed—or he had. Meaningless sex didn’t dull the pain, and the memory of his first love haunted him from moving forward. If not for his personal issues he’d have gladly dated an intelligent, sexy woman with a sense of humor like Jericha’s any day. Her capabilities as an assistant were on point, but there were also little things; his favorite coffee waiting for him on his desk every morning along with a bagel or frosted donut; notes left to remind him of due dates for clients; her ability to gauge his mood and alleviate it by providing stupid jokes that made no sense. Little things he’d forget if he didn’t have someone to back him up. Without trying, she knew his cravings. Well, not his craving for her…
Dane very much wanted to participate in carnal sins, to bend the sender of said email over his knee. A gentle rub and then a hard whack, feeling the flesh quiver and the heat under his hand. A little kink never hurt anyone. He ached to hear her moans of pleasure, but most of all he needed the same release she’d gifted Dear Ole Nick. He prayed there was a shot in hell that his gorgeous personal assistant sent it.
     He gathered his wallet and keys, set his alarm, and entered his parking lot. Moments later, he headed through streets filled with festive decorations. Houses blinking in red, green, and white hues, a huge, blown-up Santa’s sleigh with reindeers. Every station played the classic Christmas songs by new and old artists alike. Being alone for the holidays served as a reminder that it didn’t have to be that way.
     Missing the street posts with decorative banners hanging was impossible. In the heavy snow, those banners served as landmarks. He came to the intersection leading to the hotel hosting the company Christmas Party and turned. Snow crunched under his wheels, and thicker flakes melted on his windshield. He found himself singing Jingle Bells, thankful no one could hear his off-tone tenor. After four left turns and a slow right, he pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, parked, grabbed his gift for the tree, and headed inside. Cold had bitten his fingers, and he yanked his coat tighter around his neck to fend off the chill it brought.
Joyful laughter filled his ears as he entered the establishment. Glad to have a reprieve from the frosty weather, he shrugged off his coat and made his way through the crowd of employees. Stopping to chat, he wished them happy holidays and headed over to the ceiling-high tree. His gaze honed in on Jericha and Tiffany standing off to the side as he placed his gift under the tree with the rest of the presents. Others from the corporate office and field offices were scattered with family members. With a warm smile, he greeted each and every one of his employees and felt a sense of pleasure watching them enjoying themselves. The Santa he’d hired hadn’t shown yet, but he didn’t think it cause to worry. Instead, he roamed the room making idle talk and drinking.
     Tables filled with meats, cheeses, desserts and other candied items lined a far section of the room. A elf, decked out in green, headed his way. He began to make a drink order when a soulful, bluesy voice resonated in the room. He craned his head to find the object that triggered automatic lust and honed his gaze in on Jericha with a mic in her hand singing I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus Last Night. Her red fuzzy sweater hugged her breasts to perfection. His throat constricted and his mouth went dry.
     Spellbound, he watched her thrust her hip to the side and angle her head, giving the desired effect to the song’s line. Hell, damn and shit. Red gloss wet her lips…yeah, he was in trouble. He no longer cared who sent the damn poem; he’d take Jericha the Siren, who’d awoken his beast. There was no way he could ignore her call.
     “Can I get your order?”
     Dane tore his gaze from Jericha. “Rum and Coke.”
     “Sure thing, boss.” The tall elfin female, a.k.a. Cassandra, went to retrieve his drink.
Disappointment hit him when they closed the karaoke bar. He downed his drink in a few gulps and ordered a plain Coke. Santa needed to arrive and hand out everyone’s Secret Santa gifts and bonus checks.
     Cassandra appeared with his drink. “Boss. Santa isn’t coming. He got stuck in bad weather. There’s a costume in the back, though.”
     “Thanks, Cassandra, and I think it’s safe to call me Dane here.” A grin lit his face. Jericha always planned for the worst. He tipped her and left to don the costume.
*****
     Under the suit his skin itched. The silver lining to his volunteer position was the close proximity he’d have to check Jericha out.
     The best part of his evening was watching his handy helper elf dole out gifts to the adults. Three hours, and only a few small gifts were left. Damn, he’d miss watching her bend over in her tight green and red dress. Cassandra wasn’t the only sexy elf. Jericha and the brief glimpses of mocha smooth skin made his mouth water, and his imagination began a new list of fun-filled fantasies. The hat on her head was a cute addition.
     Only his box remained. He called each staff member up individually and gave them their gift, an envelope with their bonus check and a gift card for their hard work and dedication to making the goals of his company a success.
     “Has Santa been a good man?” Jericha gifted him a small red box with a bow.
     “Santa’s always a good man.” He began to unravel the bow—her touch forestalling him.
     “Save it for in private.”
     The twinkle in her eye piqued his curiosity.
     He tucked the box in his pocket. “Why don’t we go get a drink?”
     He stood from the chair and put a hand on her lower back, not at all fazed by the current racing up his arm. Together they passed under an archway heading toward the refreshment stand.
      “A couple has finally stepped under the mistletoe,” a booming voice spoke through the mic, the sound system echoing in the room.
     “He’s my boss,” Jericha joked.
     Kiss her. Kiss her. The chant grew louder as they were surrounded by merry wishers. Dane found the situation charming. Uncertain eyes stared up at him. Two years of longing hit him in the gut.
      “Let’s give ’em what they want.”
     Tugging her to him, he brought her flush against his body, her breasts to his chest. She fit perfectly in his arms. Brown sugar and vanilla teased him. Light and sweet, her soft choice of scent had an effect on him. With his lips pressed on the hollow of her neck, he traveled up at the same time, bringing his cupped palm toward the nape of her neck. He pulled away and tilted her head back. Felt her frantic heart beating and brushed his lips gently to hers.
      “The sexiest part of a kiss is the moment right before, the hesitation, the way your breath quickens, indrawn, anticipating how it’ll be, the first kiss,” he murmured to her and crushed his lips to hers.
     Full, soft lips met his, melted and parted, giving him total access to her sweet cavern. He slid into home, devouring her, dueling with her tongue, chuckling when her nails dug into his ass. Withdrawing and entering, thrusting into her mouth, he savored the taste of her, ignoring how his cock pulsated against her taut stomach.
      Behind him, he distinctly heard, “That lucky bitch.”
      He broke off the hottest kiss of his life to put the woman in her place but was stopped.
     “No worries, Santa.” Jericha licked her lips and winked at him.
     Irritation turned to amusement. Her cool resolve was a definite turn on. He watched her give a scathing glance toward the offender and then slip her hand into his, leading them away from the center of attention to the food and drink stand.
     Once out of hearing distance, he tugged her to a stop a few feet from the destined table.        
     “Why don’t we get out of here and out of these duds?”
     “Where to?” Jericha pressed her body closer to him.
     “My workshop,” he whispered.
      “Mmm, what kinda workshop?”
     “Santa’s best.”
     He linked his fingers with hers and led them toward the door near the reception desk where he purchased a room for the night and paid the lobby assistant an obscene bonus to retrieve his bag from the trunk of his car. Situation well in hand, he took the card key and escorted Jericha to the elevators.
     “What… No North Pole?” She pouted and crossed her arms.
     “Santa has a pole all right. Put a grin on those tempting lips. Good things come to good girls who wait.”
     “What if I’ve been a naughty girl?”
     “We’ll have to see that list.” He ushered her into the elevator and pressed her into the corner, his hands above her head, his body invading her personal space. “Santa likes naughty.”
     “Open your box,” she said.
     Dane lifted the small box out of his pocket, pulled the bow off with his teeth and flicked the corner open, looking at the scrap of blue silk inside. He plucked it out and groaned. He couldn’t believe what was before his eyes. A slip of paper caught his attention.
     “You see I’ve wanted you for so very long. You make a girl work to get a grain of notice.”      
     Jericha took the paper and unfolded it.
     Dane fingered the soft silk and brought it to his nose, inhaling her musk scent. He dropped a hand, bringing it down her back to cup her ass. He squeezed the globe and let his fingers dip underneath the hem of her dress, up and over finding not a stitch. An animalistic urge hit him to fuck her there, in the elevator pressed against the steel wall, cool steel chilling her lower back, his hot steel thick and surging tightly in her cunt.
     “You’re playing with fire, Jericha.”
     “Then burn me.” Jericha slid her palms up his chest.
     The elevator doors opened to their floor. She backed out, crooking a finger at him. He stalked her, slow, intent knowing their destination was only two doors down and then she’d be all his.
         With each step she took backward, she recited the beginning of her naughty poem. His gaze locked on her aroused nipples visible through the soft material, leaving a perfect molding. Totally aroused, he relieved her of the paper and finished reciting her erotic words
      “But it gets far better!” he said with a grin.
     “Give me a disobedient woman. I'll red up her cheeks.”
    He chuckled. “Now the next part is mighty interesting.”
     “The twins out back
     send them in right quick.”
     Strapping on a mouth cock 
     he said, “This outta be a neat trick.”
     Voyeurs at the window
      looked on without a care,
     desperate to join in
     jealous Santa’s cock wasn’t theirs 

     One spoke to the other,
    “This is the fifth house this street.
     When is it our turn, I’m getting all peeved!”
     All of a sudden,
     with a growl and a roar,
     Santa pulled from my mouth
     Jizzed on my breasts
     and said, “Naughty girls really do it best.” 

         Giving Jericha a hungry glance, he jerked his finger to the door. His cock throbbed hot and heavy against the confines of his pants. With a groan, he backed her to the door and bent to whisper, “Who knew?” Dane placed the paper in his pocket and then slid the key and heard the automatic click of it unlocking. “Ladies first.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter, following half a step behind, closing the door with his foot.
     “What?”
      “Such an innocent sound from a naughty woman.” He tsked. “If my memory serves, I didn’t see you on the nice list. I might have to deny you your reward now.” He unbuttoned the suit and slipped into the bathroom, leaving her questioning his next move.
      Dane took his time in the shower, washing the sweat from his body. Jericha had purposely teased him during half of the party. So much so that he’d half dragged her out, leaving a hasty, almost bad mannered goodbye as a host. With the grime off his body, he stepped out, dried and wrapped the towel around his waist.
     No sound came from the room. He hoped she hadn’t bolted, and opened the door to find her sitting quietly, legs crossed on the king-size bed. “Come here.”
     He stood at the end of the bed watching her move onto her hands and knees, crawling to him.
     “God, you look good enough to eat.” He dropped the towel. “Look at what you’ve caused.”
     “Ummm. I do good work.” She leaned over the side and licked his tip with her pretty tongue.
     “Tease.”
     “Never.”
     Jericha closed her mouth around his head and sucked him down her throat. Wet silk surrounded his pulsating flesh.
     “Damn.”
     He watched her move over and off his cock, releasing a strangled sound when her hands cupped his scrotum, tugging, rolling, squeezing, bringing his cock to a painful hardness. Soft mewls akin to purring vibrated around him, and her tongue traced along the length of him to the crowned tip, licking clean the salty liquid pooling there. He thrust forward, lodging his cock deep in her mouth and swatted her ass. The soft cheek warmed under his hand. He placed a soothing rub across it, spreading his fingers and then gripping. He pulled out and pumped into her mouth again, delivering a slap to her other cheek.
     Her startled sigh pleased him. No doubt her pussy throbbed as much as he did. Indecision warred. He pushed her off his cock, gripped her chin and kissed her roughly. When she was breathless, he spun her around and angled her over the side of the bed, his thighs trapping her in front of him. Hand pressed on the small of her back, he took a half step backward, tilted his head and nipped her ass cheek.
     “I’m going to spank you.”
“Okay,” she said on a breathy moan.
     “I wasn’t looking for permission.” He stood there admiring her laid out in front of him.
     Whack.
     “That was for the poem in my inbox.” He ran his hand over her bottom.
     Whack.
     A blow landed on her other cheek, hard enough to sting.
     “For the glimpse of skin during the present-giving.” Instead of smoothing her heated flesh, he cupped her ass in his hand. “Breathe. Let’s see how wet your pussy is for my cock.” He let his finger trail down the crack of her ass and forward. Wetness coated his fingertips.
     “Please.”
     Whack.
     “Dane,” Jericha screamed.
     “Hmmm.”
     “What was that one for?” She turned her head to look at him.
     “Two wasted years of not trying to get my attention.” He slid two fingers into her soaking core and fucked her tortuously slow.
     “I—that wasn’t my fault.” She wiggled.
     He chuckled. Whack. He eased another finger in, withdrew them and sucked her juices off his fingertips. “Condom?”
     “In my handbag.”
     “Get it.”
     He had to admit she moved fast. He took it from her, ripped off the corner and sheathed himself.
     “How do you want me?” she asked.
     Dane pointed to the center of the bed. “On your back. I want to see your face as I stroke into you the first time.” He swatted her thigh and crawled onto the bed with her. On his knees, he leaned in, getting his first look at her shaved mons. “Very sexy.” He spread the outer lips and rubbed his palm across her nub. “Bring your sexy ass onto my thighs.”
     Her breasts jiggled as she complied, legs spreading over his. He cupped the back of her knees into the groove of his elbows and shoved hard into her.
      The response of her body pleased him.
     “Do you want more, Jericha?”
     “Yes, please.”
     “Hard and fast?”
     He took her, like the fantasies he hadn’t put into motion. Friction drove him mad, the way she moved with him, surging her hips up as he thrust down. Dane drew out a choked growl. Her eyes closed in passion, hands searching for something to hold onto.
     He spasmed, waiting for her response that didn’t come. She was so damn sexy from her painted red toes to her baby-brown eyes. Angling his body, he surged harder, pulled out to her clit and grazed her entrance with his cock head. Just as he thought, she eased her eyes open and a look of irritation crossed her face.
     “I know you were close.” He pushed back in, refueling her passion, reading her finely tuned body responding to his touch. “I can hardly wait to see you come for me.” He struck deeper, skimming her nub with his pelvis. Thinking of her kept him on guard at work. The last thing he wanted to be considered was a lecherous old man. His kink wasn’t for everyone. Now that he knew she liked his style, a whole new playing field opened. Tremors traveled up his cock. Her satin sheath gripped him, pulled him in deeper, and clutched, refusing to let go. He had to work his way out through her impending climax to hit her spot just right.
     He watched her jerk off the bed, her eyes barely open, lower lip digging into her bottom teeth, head thrashing. Nothing had ever looked so tempting.
    “Come for me, baby.”
     He let go of her legs, slipped out and rolled her flat onto her stomach, pressed back into her welcoming warmth and took her. Her mewls and sighs were music to his ears. He pictured her nipples brushing against the textured fabric and groaned.
      So good, so tight, so right.
     “Look at me,” he said.
      He knew she was on the precipice of coming hard. She turned her pretty head and gazed at him. His hand placed on her shoulder kept her riveted, nowhere to move, nowhere to run.        
     She shuddered under him, and warmth saturated the barrier between them. A strangled moan fell from her lips. Wrenching every drop of release from her, he took satisfaction in fulfilling her needs.
     “You come so beautifully.” His body jerked as he stilled within her.
          “What about you?”
“Thoughtful too?” he teased. “We have plenty of time for me. Now then.” He slid out. “On your back. I want to suck those beautiful tits.”
     Still in a trance from coming, it took her a moment to get her body in motion. He liked that, limbs and legs of jelly. He ran his hands down her sides and helped her roll. His hands kneading, toggling on each nipple. He took a breath and sucked one into his mouth, savoring the distended texture and her excited, hitched breath.
    “Toys as in the poem?” He nipped one breast and then the other.
     Her response was a quick nod.
     “Do you want me to fuck your ass and fill your pussy with my fingers, play with one of those silicon cocks you love so much?”
      Her hands gripped the bedding as he surged within her. Juices streamed from her pussy, hitting his balls. Her breasts heaved with her shallow breaths. Paying homage to her breasts, he released his hold on her spread thighs to caress her soft skin, cupping the full melons.
     “I didn’t hear you, love,” he said.
     “Hmm. Yes, to all of it, yes.”
     A knock on the door interrupted his questioning. Dane raked his teeth over her nipple and pulled out of her.
     “Don’t move one inch.” He left to answer the door. “Took them long enough.” A cool off wouldn’t kill her. The plans he had for her tonight.
     Naked, he retrieved his belongings and slid the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob.
****
      Jericha watched Dane stroll back to her nude. Her breath caught. Just when she thought he couldn’t get any sexier he changed up. The absence of his cock left her body empty. She needed the invasion, the deep penetration of his thick girth stretching her wide and pummeling her deep.
     He held a black bag. Her anticipation level rose. His kiss rocked her world. His dirty words and commands made her shiver, and the spanking he’d delivered kept her on the edge of succumbing to his every demand.
     “Just for you.” He pulled out a new silicon dildo and a bottle of lube.
     “No strap-on mouth cock?”
      He smirked at the inside joke. “That poem was very naughty, a whole-length spoof, hmmm. I’m not into that kind of trick. When I want your pussy on my face, I’ll be fucking you with my tongue, not some fake material.” He winked and flipped the lid to the lube, wetting his fingertips, smoothing it over his latex-covered cock and the toy.
     She watched him. “You look like you’ve used those before.”“No… Really?”
     Jericha bit her lower lip then sucked it in. “I’m so lonely over here.”
She slid her fingers into her sex, her hips undulating, anxious for him to move to her to restart things.
    “Nice. Slower. Take your time fucking what’s mine for the night.”
     “Only the night?” She moaned and worked her body like he wanted.
     “Depends on your negotiation skills. Flip over.”
     Dane didn’t need to tell her twice. She wanted, needed him hard and fast. When he pressed his lubricated fingers against her tiny rosette, she reached back and spread her ass cheeks wide for him.
      “Very good.
     His tone encouraged her. His fingers entered, Dane testing her ability to accept him. He gently slid the digits knuckle deep and spread her further. His guttural sound of appreciation excited her.
     “Fill me.”
     He pressed his cock against her hole, pushing past the ring of muscle, slow and steady while teasing her clit with the thick vibrator. She screamed in pleasure, widening her stance over the bed, ass as wide as she could. She dug her hands into the bedding and rocked back.
     “Stop.”
       His command halted her trembling body. “I need you.”
     “I’m comin’, baby, give it a second to give.” He pushed fully into her and held her still.           
    “Damn it’s tight. So good.”
    “Fuck me.”
     And he did. She almost passed out from the sensations washing over her. His cock pounding in her ass, his balls hitting her wet labia, and God, the cock he shoved in her pussy…she’d never been so full. She’d never had that kink, the fantasy lived out. Only in her dreams and the books she’d read online.
     “Ohh, yesss.”
     He pumped faster, harder, in sync with both, and she buckled, his free hand anchoring her to the bed. Over her right shoulder, she looked at him. The sweat dripping from his forehead landed on her back, cooling her for a nanosecond.
     The contrast of the in-and-out repetitions brought her to a pinnacle quickly. She fought it, screaming, not wanting to let go, for it to be over. His hand came crashing down on her ass, and she succumbed, her passion arcing. Panting, she rocked back, taking more, deeper, seizing when the pleasure rendered her stiff. His cock pulsated in her rectum as she gripped him; she felt the surge of his need and the heat of his seed filling the thin barrier between them. Sobs left her mouth and tears threatened to spill, so great was the sated feeling that washed over her. When he withdrew his cock from her quivering muscles, she came again, crying his name, and collapsed on the bed. Summoning the strength to move didn’t happen. Fists curled into the comforter, she sighed and closed her eyes.
     When she opened them again, Dane was next to her, wiping her gently with a warm wet cloth.
     “You’re all wet,” she said.
     “I tossed the condom and took a quick shower.” He sat on the edge of the bed and petted her hair.
     How did he know her favorite form of intimacy was afterward? The sweet touches. Warm bodies tangled together. A look of tenderness on his handsome face. She tried to talk, but he placed a finger to her lips.
      “We’re going to do this right. After Christmas, I’ll take you on a proper date before fucking you senseless, and when we wake up, I’ll make slow, passionate love to you.” He pressed a kiss on the top of her head.
     Jericha couldn’t formulate a response to his declaration of dating her. When he joined her on the bed and brought her flush against his body, she laid her head on his shoulder and slid her leg in between his. He lived up to his last name in spades. Dane Savage was worth every
moment of her two-year longing and much more. His words, the gentle way he regarded her, made him her best Christmas present.
     “What are you thinking?” he asked.
     “How worth waiting for you were.”
     His laughter filled her ears. “We could’ve been doing this sooner.”
     “We’re doing it now. Merry Christmas early, Dane.”
    “Merry Christmas early back, Jericha. 

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