Page 21 of Erotic Temptations 1

“Then get in here, elf. Santa’s got a schedule.” My words came out thick, slurred with want.

He pulled his hand free, lined up, and pushed in. Hot, blunt pressure made me gasp, the stretch clenching around his dick. He pressed forward, body heat radiating into me, slow push becoming a steady glide. My fingers dug into the edge of the table, anchoring me.

Nothing else mattered. My whole world shrank to the feel of his cock filling me, slow and deep. Mason was careful, letting me adjust, rocking hips in tight, greedy motions. Each press hit something perfect inside, and I arched back, trying to take more.

He gripped my hips, holding me steady, then started to move faster, driving in with controlled power. The table squeaked under my grip, echoing every thrust.

There was nothing in my head except sensation. His cock driving inside me, the desperate need building again, my body lighting up everywhere he touched. I moaned, then bit my lip, but Mason didn’t let me get away with it. He reached around, fisted my dick, and stroked me in time with his thrusts.

Pressure built, coiling tight in my belly. My legs trembled. I was already close, so fucking close, electrified with the need to come.

“Please,” I gasped. “Don’t stop. Need it.”

He bit my shoulder, kissed it, thrusting harder, sweat damp along his temple. The hand on my cock tightened, stroking me mercilessly. The combination was too much. I shattered, coming hard, splattering across the table, legs nearly giving out.

Mason groaned my name, voice gone, then slammed deep and came inside me, flooding me with heat. His whole body shook, cock pulsing as he emptied himself. He stayed there, buried to the root, breathing ragged against my back.

We stood there, catching our breath, sweat cooling on my skin. The room stank of sex and cinnamon cleaning fluid. For the first time in my life, I never wanted to leave a supply closet.

He eased out, careful, and I made some undignified sound, brain reduced to static.

Mason cleaned us up with paper towels and wiped me down, like I was treasure, not a mess on a folding table. He caught my wrist and spun me around, pulling me right up against him.

“You good?” he asked, searching my eyes. The softness in his gaze nearly undid me.

“Never been better,” I whispered. All the snark drained out. What was left was real. Just me and Mason and the way he looked at me.

He kissed just under my jaw, then pressed his forehead to mine. I melted. My whole body felt warm, soft, taken care of. Mason touched my cheek, thumb swiping the flushed skin, and his smile said everything he couldn’t.

We got dressed, trading little touches and dumb jokes as we tried to get the Santa suit back together. He helped me with the beard, tucking the edge so it wouldn’t scratch. His fingers lingered at my jaw, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Back to the grind?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Last hour. Just us and the rugrats.” He smirked. “Think you can handle it?”

“Elf, you have no idea.”

He caught my hand, and we slipped out of the room, side-by-side.

Back in Santa HQ, the line was out of control. Parents scrolled on phones, some kids already sniffling. Mason droppedinto character, but now, every time he glanced over, I felt that heat, that promise, like a secret language just between us.

For the rest of the shift, he stuck close, brushing against me whenever he could. Every so often, I’d catch his gaze, feel the ache in my thighs, and know exactly how good we were together.

At closing, when we’d finally shooed away the last parent, Mason lingered. He helped me clean up, stacking candy canes and shoving fake snow into trash bags.

“Hey,” he said, that slow, devastating smile taking over his face. “You free tomorrow? I want to buy you breakfast.”

I pretended to consider. “Only if I get waffles.”

“Deal.” He wrapped an arm around my waist, just under the foam padding, and squeezed.

We left the mall together, sidestepping spilled coffee cups and sobbing kids. At my car, his arms bracketed me in, body pressed all along mine. “See you at sunrise, Santa,” he murmured.

He kissed me under the parking lot lights, and something inside me just…clicked. My doubts faded. It was real.

Six months later, we were still together. We’d even kept up our breakfast tradition. Only now, I always ate mine in his lap.

Best holiday gig of my life.