4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Nick

Seven Days Until Christmas Eve

My mate was absolutely adorable. When he opened the door, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him close, to tell him he was mine and I was his. To have him sink into my embrace.

Planting that almost-perfect replica of my cock in the naughty warehouse—enhanced with just enough magic to ensure it landed in the hands of my fated mate—was the most brilliant idea I’d had in a long time. Right up there with the time I came up with the remote-controlled vibrator. There was a reason I had the position I did.

Of course, it had taken quite a bit of effort to make sure the magic worked just right. I couldn’t have the toy landing in the wrong hands. What a disaster that would’ve been. For a split second, I imagined Chester getting a hold of it. I shuddered at the thought and pushed it all the way down.

I knew there were elves in the warehouse who had their eyes on me, thinking they could snag Naughty Santa for themselves. Well, it wasn’t happening—not for them. But it was happening for this perfect little elf. My mate.

And he was little. I could probably wrap my hands around his tiny waist and manhandle him any way I wanted—provided, of course, that he gave his enthusiastic consent. How beautiful the sound of him begging me for more would be. But I was getting ahead of myself. My mate was shy, innocent, and sexy as fuck.

I had a sneaking suspicion my little mate might enjoy all sorts of deliciously dirty things sometimes. Other times, though, I imagined he’d prefer a very soft touch—to lie in each other’s arms and simply be. I couldn’t wait to unwrap all the layers that made up my mate.

The mess I had found on Whipsy Lane was just a happy little coincidence. If my suspicions were correct, it was a ploy by a certain elf cough Chester cough to spend time with me. He’d been getting more and more brazen as time went by. I’d have to deal with him soon enough, but in this one incidence, I was grateful. I was using it as an opportunity to call upon my mate for help.

It didn’t take long for Percy to make his way to the workshop. His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed as he surveyed the chaos in the Whipsy Lane storage area.

“What happened?” He kept scanning the disaster.

“Not a clue.” Maybe a slight clue, but that was purely conjecture and tonight wasn’t a night for gossip.

A shelf had tipped over, scattering inventory all over the floor. But not everything on the ground belonged to that shelf—some items clearly came from other shelves entirely. It was obvious this mess was elf-made and not an accident. I’d discover the why of it soon enough, but for tonight, I didn’t care. It meant I got to spend time with my mate.

It would take hours to sort it all out and make sure the toys made their way back to where they belonged. Hours I got to spend inhaling the intoxicating scent that was all Percy, listening to his bashful words, and watching his cheeks pinken as he discovered a new toy. It was going to be better than gingerbread and cocoa on a snowy night.

“Oh my. Are you sure I can handle this? Maybe we should call Chester. He’s the lead of Whipsy Lane.”

“Calling him won’t be necessary,” I assured him. “I know you’re the right elf for the job. I have a knack for knowing these things, you know.” I tweaked the side of my nose and winked at him.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Percy’s mouth. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and something primal stirred within me. How I wanted to lean in and do the same, to taste his lips, to show him how attracted I was to him. But for now, it was only his tongue that got to do the honors.

A flash of jealousy reared its head, but I pushed it down, focusing instead on the task at hand. I wanted to taste those lips, and if I played my cards right, I would have a chance. But first, I needed to get to know my mate.

“How can I help?”

“Let’s get the bins set up.” It was a two-man job, making it the perfect place to begin. “We can start organizing from there. We’ll need the list.” I cleared off the table that was in the center of the room and placed the empty bins that had spilled onto the floor on the table.

“I don’t know where Chester keeps it.”

“It’s all in here.” I tapped my temple and winked again, hoping to elicit another sexy reaction. I was not disappointed.

His blush deepened, and he fidgeted. He was going to be so responsive in bed. I could hardly wait.

“Of course.” A wide smile crossed his face, and I vowed to make that happen often. “You’re Santa. You know where all these need to go?”

“I do.”

We settled into a nice routine, where Percy worked on untangling the floggers and whips from the other pieces of equipment. Each one had been carefully crafted for a specific Dom or sub who needed them—or the occasional vanilla person who wanted to walk on the wild side for a night. Some were personalized, others were basic, but they were all especially made in my naughty workshop and none of them were meant to be all tossed together the way these were.

Percy picked up an exceptionally fine flogger, turning it over carefully. The braided leather handle was large in his small hands.

“See something you like?” I let a bit of teasing enter my voice. If he looked at all uncomfortable, I’d stop, but so far, he seemed to enjoy his one-on-one time with me.

“All of your creations are nice.”

His praise was like a caress.

“Thank you. Is there something about that flogger that interests you?” It was one of those items that piqued curiosity in many. But curiosity and the desire to feel its kiss weren’t the same thing.

“No... I mean, they’re gorgeous, but I’m not sure I would like that sort of thing.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are there other things in the workshop you might like? The ropes, perhaps, maybe the handcuffs?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Alright, so bondage isn’t for you?”

I didn’t even care if none of the naughty toys were for him. I’d make sure to be enough for him. The toys were simply a catalyst for discussion. If he said he never wanted to try a single one, I’d be fine with that, despite my career.

“The pillows,” he said. “The special ones for the service subs. I think that’s a beautiful gift to give someone—something they can cherish and know they can be comfortable while serving their partner. The satin restraints are nice. I love satin and silk.” His face blushed deeper than a red stripe on a candy cane. The blush swept down his neck and underneath the silk pajamas he wore.

“You’re right,” I said. “A pillow is a very special gift to give someone.”

“And the plugs and the cages... those are pretty nice, too.”

I had a feeling he would not say much more than that. I tucked that information away for the future.

“So, are you excited about the big day? Or, after doing this for so long, is it not that special?”

Usually people asked me if I was ready, or how I managed to do it all. This was the first time in my memory someone asked about the big day in relation to my feelings. Percy was wonderful in so many ways.

“Christmas is always special,” I said. “I wouldn’t care if I did it every day for a century, giving gifts to people who appreciate them and will find happiness and joy in their use—that’s my favorite. That’s what I love about giving gifts. Also, not that I have many people to give to, but when I do, I like it.”

This position attracted me partly because of that. I was giving gifts to people who had historically stopped getting presents from up here. How wonderful to be able to bring back that part of Christmas magic to them.

“You have a very kind heart, Nick.”

“You do as well. That’s what makes you such a good elf.”

He beamed at my praise.

“Thank you, Santa.” He looked at me from under his lowered lashes, and I really just wanted to take him right then. This omega, this perfect little omega, was all mine, and I couldn’t wait to lay my claim.