8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

December 18th

Nellie

I was going to fuck Santa Claus.

Correction: He was going to fuck me—hard—and then frost me like a cookie.

Not that you would hear me complaining; he wasn’t the only one who had been dying for a taste.

My panties were clean soaked through by the time we stumbled into Austin’s apartment, a few minutes after midnight. From there, he was on me. A frenzy of hands, lips, and teeth.

He had already stroked me through the most intense orgasm of my life on the Santa Monica Pier, effectively helping me overcome two of my greatest fears in one fell swoop—heights and sex in public.

It wasn’t enough, though. It would never be enough, not until I made him mine, once and for all.

Austin had stoked a fire inside my veins that any second now, would singe us both to a crisp.

What a way to go.

His nose skated a line down the center of my thong, nuzzling deeper when he reached the damp fabric clinging to my crease like a second skin. I had lost my skirt before the door had snicked shut behind us. Tights and shoes, too, which meant I was bare from the waist down, save for the scrap of lace barely containing my pussy.

I tried not to feel too self-conscious when he inhaled my scent. Vagina smelled like vagina, no matter how much you tried to dress it up.

Austin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, my knees buckled when he let out a warm breath, tickling every follicle of hair decorating my pussy. Thankfully, he was there to catch me. Again.

“Stand still, baby,” he whispered against my panties, teasing my lips through the soft material. “Let me play with this pussy.”

A surge of confidence rocketed through me. “It would be a lot easier if I were naked.”

“Somebody’s impatient.”

His cocky laughter vibrated against my clit. Fucking hell. Forget vibrators, somebody could make a killing auctioning off bearded men with belly laughs. At this rate, I might come again before he even got my panties off.

I thrust my hips forward, my patience running thin.

“It’s cute that you think you’re calling the shots.” His hands roved up the back of my thighs, coasting over the curve of my ass until they reached the scalloped edge of my panties. “But we both know who’s in charge here.”

He tangled his fingers through the straps on either side of my hips. “Isn’t that right, naughty girl?”

“Yes, Daddy. ”

His fingers froze. I tilted my chin down to meet his fiery gaze.

“Say it again,” he growled.

My nipples swelled at the commanding tone in his voice. Gone was the cat dad who lived next door, the quiet neighbor who had brought me “get well soon” cookies. This was the man who had threatened to put me on the naughty list when I sat on his lap, the kinky fucker who less than an hour ago, had made me squirt all over a theme park ride.

Sweet, neighborly Austin was gone; bad Santa had come to play.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and pressed his face further into my pussy, gasping when his nose collided with my clit. “Please, Daddy. Make me come.”

Time stood still for exactly two seconds, or maybe thirty—there was no way to know for sure. Not in the depths of his dark living room, illuminated only by the soft white glow of tree lights. Neither of us had had the will to make it to his bedroom, let alone the couch.

And then, in the blink of an eye, the lips pressed against my mound crooked up in a mischievous grin. At the same time, the fingers knotted through my thong yanked, snapping it off my body.

There was no suppressing my cry when in the next second, he thrust his tongue deep.

“ Fuck, ” I half-whispered, half-groaned. I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice.

The rough edges of his beard scratched at my thighs and labia while his tongue tore through layer after layer of my pussy, eventually drawing a line up to my clit. When he circled the small bud and sucked, my legs instinctively tried to trap his head in place.

There was something so empowering about seeing him like this, on his knees, holding me up with his massive fingers, eyes full of hunger and reverence. This man could snap me in half if he wanted to. Yet here he was, licking me, savoring me like I was his last meal on Earth.

I sucked in a breath when he added first one finger, and then another to the mix, crooking them inside me like he was beckoning me closer. How much closer could I possibly get? The man already had his lips, tongue, and fingers buried in my cunt.

“Austin, I need you.”

“You’ve got me, baby.”

He managed to add a third finger. “No.” I gasped. “I need more. I need you inside me.”

His eyes flashed. Before I knew it, we were moving again, only this time he was gently lowering me to the living room rug. “Is this okay?” he asked before shoving my sweater over my head and undoing my bra.

“Uh-huh.”

“You deserve to be taken in a bed and worshiped for hours.”

I don’t know about that. I felt pretty fucking worshiped already.

A soft smile tugged at my lips. “I’m not going to break if you fuck me on the floor, Austin.”

He let out a shuddering breath before leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. “That mouth.”

“This mouth?” I closed the gap between us, nipping at his lips.

His hand snaked down and around my neck, applying the lightest pressure to my throat, just enough to send a dark thrill shooting through my veins like lightning. He smirked, no doubt loving the way my pulse beat wildly against his hold.

“You’re asking for trouble.”

His voice was soft, almost teasing. But the edge to it made me shiver.

I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly bone-dry. “That’s what naughty girls do.”

One corner of his mouth hooked up in a wicked, wolfish grin.

I sat back, enjoying the view while he undressed, adding his discarded clothing to the growing pile on the floor. My fantasies hadn’t done him justice. In reality, he was bigger, thicker, hairier—a beast in human form.

Santa baby.

Thin black curls peppered across his chest and bulging belly, like an arrow pointing straight toward his girthy cock. The reindeer tattoo inked just above his right thigh made me giggle. The demanding look on his face did not.

“Turn over, baby,” he ordered while rolling on a condom. I opened my mouth to argue, but quickly closed it when the sharp crack of his hand hitting my thigh echoed through the room. “Now.”

“ Yesss, ” I squealed.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He rubbed a hand over the spot he had slapped. “Good girl.”

I rolled to my stomach, careful not to knock into the tree, and pulled my knees up so my ass was in the air, on full display. The loud moan he emitted let me know he appreciated my efforts.

“I fucking love this ass.” He smoothed a hand over first one cheek, and then the other. “You don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about touching you here, licking you here.” I jerked when a finger probed the tight ring of muscle between my cheeks. “Fucking you here.”

I moaned into my shoulder.

“Would you like that, baby girl?” he rasped. “Me inside your ass.”

“I— I don’t know.”

It wasn’t something I had ever given much consideration to, a taboo subject amongst my friends back home. And yet, the thought of Austin taking me there, tunneling his dick in and out of that forbidden hole, didn’t scare me. On the contrary, it felt dirty and amazing.

Naughty.

“Maybe.”

“We can revisit that another time.” He moved into position behind me, nudging me legs wider to carve out space for his thick thighs and thicker cock. The blunt tip of his crown pressed against my entrance. “For now, I’m going to fuck this pussy.”

“ Oh, god ,” I cried when he pushed inside of me, bottoming out in one thrust.

I was stretched so tight, the sense of fullness nearly overwhelmed me. It felt so good. So freaking perfect. Like my body had been made for him and him alone.

“Fuck, Janelle. You’re so goddamn tight.” He rolled his hips forward and back before pulling out of me completely, only to shove himself back in. “This first time is going to be fast, baby,” he muttered, gasping for air.

At least I wasn’t the only one struggling to breathe.

It took me a minute to match his pace, but after that, it was a race to the finish. I squeezed my eyes shut as he pistoned in and out of me, his balls slapping my pussy with each thrust. The onslaught of sensations was nearly overwhelming—the smack of our bodies, the sweat beading between. My toes curled while my fingers dug into the rug beneath us, desperately searching for an anchor to cling to.

“ Austin .”

It wasn’t so much a word as it was a needy whimper, a desire to be filled, used, tossed around like a rag doll.

“I’ve got you, baby.”

An arm snaked around my middle, pulling me up until my back met his front. I gasped as he continued his relentless rhythm, pumping inside me at a new angle that let him go deeper than before. My head lolled back against his chest on a groan. One hand tweaked my nipples while the other rubbed firm, tight circles over the swollen nub of my clit.

“Let go, Janelle,” he growled into my neck. “Give it all to Daddy.”

The orgasm barreled into me like a runaway train, ruining me. My hips jerked erratically, thighs slapping against his. Bright lights burst behind my eyelids as my pussy convulsed around him, milking his cock while he groaned out my name.

When we both eventually caught our breaths, Austin dropped us onto our sides without removing his cock.

“Ho-ho-holy shit,” he panted, sounding like he’d run a marathon. Before Austin, I would have said that there was no bigger high than finishing a marathon. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

I laughed and then moaned when another shudder rippled through my still very full pussy.

“You okay?”

My head bobbed against his arm.

“Did I break you?”

This time, I shook it.

“Can you speak?”

“In a minute.”

He smoothed a hand up and down my side while I caught my breath . . . and regained speech function. A sudden thought rushed over me.

“Let’s take a picture.”

He lifted his head. “Now?”

“Yes.” I turned my head and found his lips, coaxing them open with a slow, wet kiss. “I don’t ever want to forget this moment or how incredible I feel.”

He nodded and kissed me again.

I barely moved when he went to fetch his camera—and remove the condom. Instead, I lay back on his floor, stretching my well-used muscles while counting the lights on the Christmas tree.

A soft purr from my right had me twisting my head.

“You must be Ralphie.” The mysterious third cat. His tail flopped over the edge of the couch. “I apologize for defiling your dad like that.”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

Austin lowered himself back beside me, this time with his camera in hand.

“Your cat,” I said, pointing toward the black blob on the couch. “He’s a little bit of a pervert.”

“Like father, like son.”

I laughed. When he sat up, intent on capturing my smile, I held up a hand. “No, both of us.”

“What?”

The uncertainty in his voice cracked something in my chest. From what he had told me about his family, it sounded like Austin wasn’t used to being the center of attention. But everybody deserved to feel special, especially soft, squishy daddy doms who dressed up as Santa Claus.

I stole the camera from his hands before he had a chance to argue. “Smile, Austin.”

It wasn’t until much later, in between bouts of lovemaking and grilled cheese sandwiches, that I snuck a peek at the photo, only to find that Austin had indeed smiled. I guess he takes orders as well as he gives them . But it wasn’t the sappy grin on his face that took me by surprise, so much as the direction of his gaze.

He wasn’t looking at the camera; he was looking at me.

Austin

I woke up to a smile on my face and slender fingers wrapped around my cock.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

A weight had been lifted off my chest last night, which left plenty of room for the woman draped across my body.

Right where she belonged.

“Morning,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.

Nellie tilted her head back to meet my gaze. Frizzy, blonde waves framed her face, the aftermath of going to sleep without drying her hair. “Good morning.” The contrast of her sweet, innocent tone and wicked grin made my cock jerk.

Just as I had suspected, Nellie was a sexual dynamo. Her hunger matched my own.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full.” I nodded my head toward the erection tenting the sheet.

“It’s fun to play with.” Her fingers rolled over the head, slicking the precum leaking from my tip down my shaft. “Seriously, how do you not play with it all day, every day?”

She didn’t give me a chance to answer.

“And this is my favorite part—the head. It’s pink and cute.”

Pink and cute? She made my cock sound like Hello Kitty.

I couldn’t find the will to protest. Fuck, I could barely breath when she was working my dick like a goddamn stripper pole.

“Although, I’m also partial to these.” She scraped a nail down my length, tracing the bulging pink lines. “The veins.”

A shiver racked my body.

“They look painful.”

“Are you planning on doing something to fix that?” I growled.

“Maybe.”

A groan rumbled out of my chest when her grip tightened, pumping me once, twice, three times. Hand jobs were underrated. Every guy enjoyed getting his dick sucked, but a slow, lazy hand job went a long way.

Somebody ought to put that on a mug.

I’m easy like a Sunday morning . . . hand job.

My cock protested when she stilled her movement. “Then again, I really should check my email.”

I shot up before she had a chance to escape, rolling her beneath me and caging her in against the mattress. The tits that I was now very well acquainted with bounced beneath her shirt. She was still gloriously naked from the waist down, which made it easy to wedge two fingers inside her to test her readiness. My other hand gripped her chin, holding her in place while I plundered her mouth.

“Austin.” She moaned breathlessly. “I want you inside me.”

“You gonna let me take you bare, baby?”

We’d had the customary birth control discussion in the wee hours of the morning. I knew she had an I.U.D., but there was a lot more to safe sex than preventing pregnancy. Neither of us had been with anybody else for months, and we had both been tested since then, so she knew exactly what I was asking for.

Her trust.

“Yes.”

“You want Daddy to fill you up with this cock?”

She groaned out her assent when I removed my fingers and replaced them with my cock, rocking forward into her weeping cunt. Fuck. I dropped my head into the crook of her shoulder, peppering her neck with kisses while I tried to catch my breath.

She felt good.

So. Fucking. Good.

I would be lucky if I lasted a minute, less if she kept squeezing me like that. I groaned again and lifted my head. Her smile was a dead giveaway. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.

“Why do you have to do that?”

She batted her lashes. “Do what?”

“Be a naughty girl.”

“You love it.”

I love y—

I barely resisted the urge to say it—the phrase that until now, had always been reserved for friends and family. Instead, I powered into her, swallowing up her cries with my lips. It was the only surefire way to keep myself from saying something stupid and scaring her off. Best to keep my mouth occupied, kissing, licking, nibbling.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I chanted, pinning her hips to the mattress as I increased my tempo. Nellie’s hand slipped between our bodies, circling her clit. “There’s my naughty girl. Touch yourself, baby. Come all over Daddy’s cock.”

Daddy loves you.

Fuck, there they were again. Those three little words that were anything but. With the exception of the woman beneath me, I had never been much for little things. I had the beard and belly to prove it. And yet, in this moment, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect Janelle Wheatley. To guard her heart, mind, body, and soul.

All mine.

“More,” she cried, meeting my punishing thrusts.

I circled her throat with my hand and whispered against her lips, “ Everything. ”

That was a promise.

“This is the most ridiculous kitchen gadget I’ve ever seen in my life.” She squealed when I handed her a plate with the finished breakfast sandwich. “And I absolutely love it.”

She pecked my lips before tearing into the sandwich. I smirked, knowing that I was the reason she had worked up an appetite.

It had been going on noon by the time we’d made it out of bed. Nellie, clad only in my favorite Goo Goo Dolls tee and her Aircast, had perched herself on my countertop, insistent on a front-row seat to my breakfast making. Not that there was much to it. My breakfast sandwich maker, a takeaway from last year’s gift exchange game with my family, did most of the work for me.

“Okay, why does this taste so good?”

“I told you.”

“Seriously,” she said around another bite of sandwich. “I’m never going to be able to look at a breakfast sandwich the same way again.”

Egg yolk dripped down the corner of her mouth. She eyed me through a hooded gaze when I leaned forward and captured her lips—yellow goo and all—with mine.

“Mmm,” I said, licking my lips. “You taste good.”

“I doubt that. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet.”

“Janelle, I had my tongue in your asshole last night. Do you really think a little morning breath will bother me?”

Her hand shot out to cover my mouth, just as somebody knocked at the door. There was a very short list of people who would show up at my door unannounced, so chances were good it was either Sloane, the UPS. delivery guy, or the Girl Scout who lived in 4B.

Unfortunately, there was no package or box of cookies waiting on my porch when I opened the door, but rather my assistant.

“You’re not dressed yet?” she asked before storming into my apartment.

“Hello to you, too.”

“We have the Christmas train at two, and it’s going to take at least an hour to get there. I told you I would pick you up at—”

She stopped when she noticed the woman sitting on my counter. The one not wearing pants.

“Well, well, well. I must have missed the breakfast invitation.”

Nellie bit her lip. “Hi, Sloane.”

“Hello, again. I’ll get back to you in a second.” She spun in her sky-high heels to face me. “ You forgot.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I was a little . . . tied up.”

Nellie’s cheeks flushed, no doubt remembering the way I had bound her wrists to my bed frame last night for our second round of lovemaking. For nearly an hour, she had pushed and pulled at the restraints, desperate to thrust herself against the lips and fingers tormenting her pussy.

And she’d loved every second of it. We both had.

Nellie’s moans had turned to cries, then eventually screams. Loud enough to wake up the entire apartment complex. Poor Mrs. Lyons. She’d nearly shot off the mattress when I’d finally let her come, first on my fingers, and then again on my cock with her good leg draped over my shoulder. We’d both been drenched with sweat and . . . other stuff by the time I’d lifted her into my arms and carried us both to the shower.

There, I held her under the spray until the water had run cold. Touching her, loving her, memorizing every freckle and scar because they were equally beautiful. And she’d done the same, tracing over my tattoos with her fingers and lips before dropping to her knees and taking me into her mouth.

I might have blacked out when my cock had nudged the back of her throat. Who would have thought that the bubblegum princess who lived next door would be a world-class cocksucker?

My naughty girl.

By the time we’d piled back into my bed—after a much needed sheet change, of course—it had nearly been four a.m. Which was why we were only getting around to eating breakfast now. I had even convinced her to take the morning off. It wasn’t an entire day, but it was a start.

I would take whatever she was willing to give me and happily beg for more. Because when it came to Nellie, I wanted it all.

“Give me ten minutes,” I told Sloane.

I set my coffee aside and took off for my bedroom, pausing when I reached the edge of the couch. Nellie’s brows shot up when I turned back around and pulled her into my body for a quick, searing kiss.

“So, it’s like that then?” Sloane interjected.

Nellie giggled against my lips. A slight shove to my chest had me pulling away. “Go,” she said.

I raced for the bedroom. It only took me three minutes to change, plus another three to wash my face, brush my teeth, and run a quick comb through my beard. I might have spent an extra minute moisturizing my beard, too, which was thicker than usual. Nellie hadn’t seemed to mind last night, but the beard burn on her inner thighs told a different story this morning.

I had just finished loading up my camera gear when voices filtered around the corner and into the living room.

“Things seem to be going well for you two.”

“You could say that,” Nellie said.

“I hope you know how much he means to me, how incredible he is.” Sloane’s words warmed my heart. Through all the ups and downs of the last few years, she had always been my one-woman hype team. “Seriously, you will never find a better person than Austin. He just . . . takes a while to warm up sometimes.”

Nellie’s giggle echoed through the apartment. “I’m starting to get that.”

“Just, please don’t hurt my boy.”

There was a short pause before Nellie’s reply. “He might be your boy, Sloane, but he’s my man.”

Fuck. Was it too late to cancel today’s photoshoot?

“I am?” I asked.

Nellie gasped when I rounded the corner, dropping her plate—and what was left of her sandwich—to the floor. It crashed against the tiles, fracturing into several pieces.

“Shit!” Nellie shouted.

“Just stay there a minute.” I set my camera bag aside and quickly slipped into my shoes. “Dustpan, hall closet,” I told Sloane.

“I’m on it.”

While she raced to get it, I made a beeline for the kitchen. More specifically, for the woman on the verge of tears, clawing at the hem of her shirt. Well, my shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Austin,” she said, lips trembling. “I can’t believe I did— oof. ”

I scooped her up without a word and carried her out of there, depositing her back on her feet once we reached the safety of the living room.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her, attempting to ease her worries. “It’s just a plate, and not even one of my favorites.” She didn’t look so sure, so I combed my fingers through her hair and added, “Actually, I’ve got a couple of ugly mugs my sister’s kids made me if you feel like you need to break more shit.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter. And then, almost as if a lightbulb went off, her eyes shot to mine, widening with glee.

“The Christmas Crapola.”

“The what?”

She was already halfway to the bedroom, mumbling something about a “beautiful mess” along the way. Not a minute later, she was back, only this time her arms were overflowing with last night’s clothes. “I’ve got some calls to make,” she said, hurriedly racing for the door. “Oh, and Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“You are.”

My brows furrowed. “I am what?”

“My man.”

Damn straight I was.