Page 3

CHAPTER 3

E lle

This is it . No one was going to leap out and call me a freak. My naughtiest desire was coming to life, and it was even hotter that Simon would watch. My body throbbed with need. Stumbling slightly, I yanked my heels off and pulled the covers back, slipping into bed as chills raced over my skin.

Simon flicked the lights off, leaving only illumination from the Christmas tree and the moon. He settled back into the armchair, his eyes glittering in the multicoloured lights. My breathing was shallow as I struggled to remain still. Closing my eyes, I willed my body to calm down, but it didn’t work. The anticipation clawed up my throat, threatening to bubble out.

Sleigh bells tinkled, and the door creaked open. My breathing kicked up, but I kept my eyes closed like I was asleep. I felt his presence draw closer, and a gentle stroke across the covers ramped up my desire.

“What do we have here?” Gene’s voice was husky.

I continued to feign sleep, pretending I wasn’t electrified with need.

“Have you been naughty or nice?” Coarse hair tickled my ear as his breath ghosted across it.

His hand snaked under the covers, and his leather gloves caressed my skin, making my breath hitch. Agonisingly slowly, I opened my eyes and focused on the mass of white beard obscuring his face. His dark eyes gleamed down at me from below his hat brim. Heat shot through me as a red jacket swam in my peripheral vision.

“Tell me, Candy, have you been a good girl?”

“Yes, Santa,” I breathed, barely able to get the words out.

“I hope you aren’t lying because naughty girls lie.”

I shivered. “No, I’m a good girl.”

His hand ghosted over my pussy, and I arched into his touch.

“According to my list, you haven’t been a nice girl this year. In fact, this top” – he stroked a finger across my nipple – “proves you’re naughty. It tells me you have been having dirty thoughts about Santa. You want to distract him from his deliveries.”

“What will you do?” I blinked at him, watching his expression above his fake white beard.

“Naughty girls get the cane.”

“A candy cane?” I fidgeted.

He chuckled and yanked the covers off me, and cool air rushed across my nipples.

“Only good girls get a candy cane. Bad girls just get the cane.”

I pouted, leaning into my childish side, and he chuckled.

“Up.”

I stumbled to my feet. The padded suit made him appear larger than before, and excitement zipped through me when I spotted the black leather gloves that disappeared under his fur-lined sleeves. He had a sack slung over his shoulder, and I watched, mesmerised, as he extracted a red leather collar and set of cuffs from it. I shuddered as he clipped it around my neck.

“Wrists.”

I held my hands out, and he secured the red leather to my wrists. The inside was soft, but when he clipped them to the collar, it meant I had very little range of movement for my hands. The knife edge of fear created by being bound heightened my state.

Gently, he led me with the chain over to Simon, who watched us coming with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Lie over his lap, naughty girl.”

“Are you Santa’s little helper?” I asked, my sass rising the closer I drew to Simon.

Simon’s eyebrows raised at my cheekiness, and he chuckled throatily. “Oh, I’m Santa’s helper all right, but I’m not little, and I’ll be helping fill that bratty little mouth.” He patted his lap. “Over.”

Unsteadily, as I couldn’t use my hands, I laid over his firm thighs, too excited to sass him any further. There was rustling, and the rough material of Gene’s Santa suit brushed the back of my legs. Simon hooked a thumb in the waistband of my shorts and yanked them down.

My pussy clenched as I imagined the image of me laid across his lap, my arse exposed as Gene playing Santa stood behind me. It was debauched, and I was totally here for it.

A gloved hand skimmed over my cheeks, the fur lining his cuffs whispered over my overheated skin.

“Colour?” Gene growled.

“So fucking green,” I panted, and a silent rumble of laughter passed through Simon beneath me.

“She doesn’t sound sorry for being a bad girl,” Simon mused.

“She will be.” Gene’s voice held a menacing edge. “She needs warming up for the cane.”

His gloved hand smacked down on my buttock. The stinging pain made me gasp and jerk.

“Count.” Simon’s arm pinned me firmly across his thighs.

“One.”

“One what?” Gene asked.

“One, Santa.”

Blows cracked across my cheeks, some harder, some softer. The pain, acute at first, morphed into pleasure. My pussy dripped with moisture, and the tops of my thighs slid together as I panted.

“Ten,” I squealed, squirming against Simon’s restraining arm. My arse was on fire, but the rest of my body blazed with need.

“Such a good girl.” Simon smoothed his palm over my smarting skin.

“She’s ready,” Gene growled, and I whimpered.

Could I take it? The edges of my vision were hazy.

“Give her a reward to suck on,” Gene said, passing something to Simon above me.

Cool glass smoothed across my lips, and I opened my eyes to zero the stripy object. Oh my god, was that a glass candy cane dildo?

“Open,” Simon growled.

His erection dug into my side. I opened my mouth, and the cold glass slid into my mouth.

“Suck.”

I did obediently, and it smothered the squeal from the pain that whipped across the back of my legs. I hate the other cane!

“Suck it and take your punishment for being naughty, then we’ll show you what nice girls get,” Simon cooed as Gene smacked the thin cane down on my tender buttocks.

The pain morphed into a pleasure so dangerous it overcame me, dimming my senses. I rocked on the edge of an orgasm, and suddenly he stopped. Simon pulled the candy cane out of my mouth and replaced it with his thumb.

“Suck my thumb while Santa gives you a reward for being a good girl.”

I sucked, and Gene ripped my pyjama bottoms off my ankles roughly, kicking my legs apart, exposing my wet pussy.

“Such a bad girl enjoying that so much,” Gene said, pressing the cool glass to my drenched entrance.

Sucking harder on Simon’s thumb, Gene pressed the glass dildo inside me, and the sensation of being full of cold hardness made my eyes roll back.

“Look at you, dirty girl, being fucked by Santa’s candy cane,” Gene said as he built up a rhythm.

My orgasm hurtled towards me, and I moaned around Simon’s thumb. Their combined ministrations saturated my body and mind with sensations. Someone’s fingers found my clit.

“Come for us,” Simon growled.

I detonated as a bomb of pleasure burst inside me, spreading out of my centre as Gene ruthlessly fucked me with the candy cane, prolonging the orgasm.

He pulled the dildo free at the same time Simon removed his thumb from my mouth, and I slumped forward over his knees, boneless and floaty.

The sensations came to me down a tunnel as they unclipped my wrists from the chain and moved me like a rag doll until I reclined back against Simon’s front, sitting between his thighs in the chair.

Gene covered me with a soft blanket and offered me a drink. My mouth was dry, but I hardly had the energy to take a sip. The Christmas tree lights sparkled in the corner of my vision, and I lost myself in their beauty.

Simon’s hands smoothed over my hair and down my arms. After a few minutes, it coaxed me back to life. Unfortunately, the burning sting of my buttocks flared up too.

“There she is,” he whispered in my ear, and I blinked my eyes open, not realising they’d fallen shut. “We aren’t done with you yet. Give me a colour.”

“Green,” I said, my voice strangely hoarse.

“Santa’s waiting for you over there. You need to get on his lap to receive your present.”