14. Krampus gave me a kitten!

Chapter 14

Krampus gave me a kitten!

TWYLA

“ W hat will happen to…?” I gesture to our surroundings, from the sugary mess we left in the kitchen to the soot and cinders due to the fire.

“A cleaning crew will be assigned—after the new year,” he finishes with a kiss on my brow. “Now…since I intend to spend much of my Christmas stuffed in your sweet and sexy stocking, kjaere, I advise you to hold on.”

He rarely does this with me since it’s murder on my still-human senses. Instinct has me digging my fingers in his fur as thrills and chills sweep up my spine. After all, Krampus could take us anywhere in Krampus Palace.

When a rush of cool air hits my backside, and I hear the faint but familiar instrumental carol playing on the speaker above my head, I peek from beyond his fur…and gasp!

Krampus chuckles and lowers his hand to cover my naked backside while I huddle closer into him since he’s just transported us to the Krampus Palace elevator—with all its clear glass windows.

Tapping my reddened bottom with one hand, my husband cups my chin with the other to lift my face. “It’s Christmas, kjaere. Most will be celebrating and opening presents in their suites. Or they will be enjoying the Christmas World festivities and holiday parties.”

“Key word, Krampus: most,” I squeak and press against him as the mortification heats my cheeks.

At least the elevator opens directly to his private penthouse. Before I may step inside, he sweeps me into a honeymoon hold and kisses me something fierce. When he finally pauses and gestures me to the penthouse, I part my lips, awed by the festive wonderment all over the lobby and surrounding area. Since it’s not quite sunrise yet, the panoramic views of the high windows offer a cityscape of Krampus World with all its twinkling lights, from lanterns to trees flickering red and green. Thanks to the snowfall of ice crystals softly twirling down from the sky, it’s become a picture-perfect scene.

Especially with how Krampus has decked the halls!

Garlands and wreaths decorate the lobby walls, embellished by glowing candles, bright red ribbons, and shimmering ornaments. Fragrant evergreens and hints of vanilla perfume the air. Flames crackle in the grand marble fireplace while more garland and glimmering candles adorn its mantle as well as stockings.

“Oh, Krampus,” I gush as soft warm lights bathe us and the surroundings, giving the penthouse a dark but cozy theme. The white and red wool throws upon the black leather sofa and chairs arranged by the fireplace do the same.

He smiles down at me, then snaps. My hands fly to my mouth because the enormous snow globe in the center of the lobby has changed. Instead of the sugar plum fairy that was there before, two flawless renderings of Krampus and me on our wedding day stand in the middle of the globe.

Christmas Day.

Tears glisten in my eyes at the sight of the gazebo in the background of those figures, the rotunda trimmed in holly and twinkle lights where we stood when we professed our vows in a small ceremony with the Krampus Haven scryer officiating as high priestess. Mephisto was his best man. I think all of Krampus Haven showed up to celebrate us, followed by my coronation as Queen of Yuletide. The ancient oak tree and the ice sculpture garden were a beautiful backdrop to the gazebo.

The figures in the globe are a flawless rendering. There is Krampus, garbed in his royal black robes, embroidered with gold tinsel-like Old Norse patterns and runes, his fur combed to pure silk for the occasion. Next to him, I look like a tiny fairy—even with my wedding gown of sweeping gold and white, decorated with silver and gold snowflakes and red holly berry designs, and finished with my fur-lined white cape.

Still holding me, Krampus snaps his fingers, and the image begins to move, confirming it’s a hologram, a hyper-realistic one.

“Oh! It’s beautiful!” The tears freely spill down my cheeks at the memory brought to life of Krampus placing the crown of golden stars upon my head, coronating me his queen before he knelt to the frost-gilded gazebo floor, shifted my cape, and folded my gown ends to capture my shoes. My breath catches from the memory replay of how he’d removed my transparent crystalline slippers and bowed his head to the ground to kiss the ground, where my bare feet had stood.

As an ode to traditional Nordic ceremonies, Krampus had raised a gleaming sword before placing it before me in a testament to his protection. By ceremonial standards, I would have given him a sword, but I am more than content not to be the weapon wielder. When my role as an immortal human is far more of a provider to give him my emotions, as well as the keeper of his heart, I will gladly accept and surrender to his protection and possession.

Handfasting came next, then Thor’s blessing, then drinking from the same goblet of wine. I smile as the scene changes to the running of the bride. Of course, he’d let me win. Drinking mead from an animal horn was certainly a…different experience. It left me lightheaded, warm, tingly, and fuzzy on our wedding night. So much so, that Krampus had simply put me to bed after the festivities, and we waited till the next day to begin our honeymoon.

And Krampus gave me a kitten!

After breakfast, we touched our honeymoon Yule log, made a wish, and lit it in the cabin fireplace. As long as it burned, we made love, only pausing for Norwegian treats and nature’s calls.

Somehow, he’s managed to capture it all, everything, including the honeymoon, where he bound me in spiraling red ribbon and gold chains and suspended me from the cabin ceiling. Complete with a kinky array of toys stimulating me. Much like the time in the gazebo, except he took his place directly under me and commanded that I not drip on him while he read more monster smut out loud.

I failed.

Resting my head against his soft fur, I take in the parade of illusions that kindles a deep heat in my belly…and my heart. Krampus kisses my brow and toys with the ends of my curls before carrying me up the spiraling staircase with all its garland and twinkling lights.

I beam at the kitten stirring from her little bed in the corner of the main suite. She stretches with her claws out like most cats do and ambles over to us.

“Aww, Birchess,” I coo to the kitten, whose name is a play of the word ‘Duchess’. “Did you miss us?”

She makes little scratchy ‘meow’ sounds while lowering her head as if showing off her prized horns. Tinier than my pinky finger, at present, but I can tell they’re growing. Of course, Krampus found her as a stray wandering around Krampus Haven.

After Krampus gives her some attention and me some amusement with how she chases his tail but never catches it, he sweeps me into the adjoining bathroom. My insides are already stoked, and they nearly melt when he shows me the great bathtub with its balcony opening, candles all around the ledges, and the Christmas rose petals covering the water.

“Krampus…” I choke on his name, and the dreamy grin he gives me radiates through my blood and charges straight for my pussy.

“Come. I need to get my dirty girl cleaned up.”