Chapter 8

8

Millie

I t can’t be real. There’s no way he’s really an elf. But I saw it with my own two eyes. This little ornament appeared out of thin air. He opened his hand and— poof!— it was there. I spin the thing in the air, looking for another possible explanation. But there is none. It’s a porcelain little deer that couldn’t just magically appear, not unless there was actual magic involved.

“Did you buy that at the mall?” Laney’s voice startles me, and the thing slips right out of my hand, falling to the ground.

“Oh no!” I drop to the floor in a panic, devastated when I see the destruction of my magical little gift. I quickly work to pick up the broken pieces, hoping that my special gift will magically fuse back together and fix itself, but it doesn’t.

“I’m so sorry, Millie. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I can hear the panic in Laney’s voice, as she comes rushing to my side. “Please don’t hate me, Millie. I’ll get you a new one. I promise.”

I drop the pieces and reach for her. “I’d never hate you, Laney bear. It’s just an ornament.” Only it wasn’t just any ornament, it was the most special ornament in the world. But I’m not going to let her believe that some inanimate object could mean more to me than her—even if it was a magical object. “You’re my sister. I love you. Always.”

“Will you drive me to the mall tomorrow so I can get you a new one?”

I shake my head. Not wanting to tell her the truth of where it came from because then she’ll feel really bad. But then an idea hits.

“I’m going to put it under my pillow tonight and ask Santa to fix it for me.”

Her smile couldn’t be any brighter. “You believe now?”

I’m not sure what I believe, but all signs point to the guy in the mall telling the truth. But I guess this will prove it one way or another. If the ornament is fixed in the morning, then my world just got a whole lot crazier because that means magical beings are real and that there’s really a big fat jolly man who delivers presents all over the globe to little boys and girls. But then why did he never come to my house? Or I guess stopped coming to my house. I remember there being presents under the tree marked from Santa, but I thought my dad or mom had just filled out the label. But when I turned ten, they stopped. But then again…that was the year that I stopped believing in anything joyous and merry. That was the Christmas I learned the truth.

“I think I do,” I tell her. “But we’ll see in the morning.”

She scoots off my lap. “Okay, well then we have to go to bed, so he’ll come.” She gives me a tight hug and then darts from my room. And I collect all the little broken fragments of the ornament and tuck them under my pillow. Silently making my wish as I close my eyes.

Santa, or Santa’s elf, if you’re real, will you please fix the ornament you gave me? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. I…

“I saw the whole thing, little dove. You don’t have to apologize. I know it was an accident.”

I nearly leap from my bed as the deep voice whispers by my ear. My eyes fly open on a gasp and another wave of panic hits when I see a guy sitting behind me on my bed. A stranger dressed in black. A man with muscles way too big for me to defend myself against. His dark eyes are peering right at me. “Who are you? What do you want?” I scramble off the bed, trying to get as far away from this strange man as I can, wishing I’d grabbed my phone from the nightstand as I ever so slowly back my way towards my door.

“It’s okay, Millie. Look.” He runs his hand down over his face and a swirl of gold sparkles emanate from his palm. “It’s me.” His hand drops and the guy I recognize from the mall is now staring at me, the fat and jolly Santa, though the eyes are still the same. Now I’m even more freaked out. This is all a bit too much. Santa is real. Magic is real. And apparently, there’s an elf sitting on my bed.

“Sorry.” His shoulders drop. “I didn’t mean to scare you with my hideous looks. I won’t do it again.” Hideous looks? I’d say it’s the opposite. I’ve never been this close to such an attractive man, but I definitely wasn’t expecting him to be an elf. He looked like a rebel who belongs to a biker gang, not a little Christmas elf who builds toys in Santa’s workshop. There is nothing small or childlike about him. Nothing pointy or awkward.

I swallow back the lump of nerves. “You just startled me is all. Is that what you really look like?” Maybe he mirrored his image from a seriously hot, rugged magazine model, or someone he saw on TV. Maybe he’s not allowed to be in his true form when he’s around humans.

He nods, and for some reason, that fact pleases me a little too much. “Yeah. I’m deformed. All the other elves are tiny and cute. I’m an ogre. It’s because my father is a giant.”

“A giant?” Giant what? Is he saying there are other mythical creatures out in the world?

He nods. “Yeah. The giants of the North Mountains are keepers of the magical realm. You probably know them as Bigfoot.” Bigfoot? “They aren’t supposed to fraternize with the elves. It’s one of our most sacred laws. But it didn’t stop my father from falling in love with my mom. Thankfully, Santa took me in anyway, and forgave my parents. But it still left me with birth defects. My frame is large. My voice is deep. My muscles are too thick, and my elvish marks are black when they are supposed to be invisible.”

Those must be the tattoos I saw. Wow, so they’re elvish marks. “Can I see them?” I ask without even thinking. I might be asking something extremely personal. I know nothing about his kind.

He shakes his head, and embarrassment hits my cheeks. “I have to go into my natural form. I don’t want to repulse you.”

“You are not repulsive. Quite the opposite. I mean…” My voice trails off, realizing what I just revealed. But again, I didn’t think before I spoke. I’m at a loss of thinking right now. This whole situation is kind of blowing my mind. Not only am I sitting here with some magical elf from the North Pole, but I’m attracted to him. And flustered as all get out. If it weren’t for the fact that his cheeks are turning a cherry shade of red, no doubt matching mine, I’d really feel foolish.

“Are you saying you like the way I look, little dove?” His deep voice dropped even lower and now my cheeks are burning even hotter, the flush now coasting down my neck. It almost feels like he’s flirting with me.

“I…um…yes…” I breathe, again not putting a filter on my lips. But I’m sure with his magical powers, he knows when someone is lying. “Can you read my thoughts?” The question comes flying out. He was able to hear my mental wish, so that means he can probably hear exactly what I think of his sexy body and dark, dreamy eyes.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I only hear what you intend for me to hear. Everything else is safeguarded. And now that you’ve seen my true form”—his body transforms again, returning to one sexy hulk of a man, who if it weren’t for his pointy ears would never be mistaken as anything other than one fine human—“I’ll be able to hear you if you say my name: Brawn.”

Brawn. Even his name gives me chills.

My eyes shift down to his dark tattoos, trying to distract my thoughts, doing everything in my power to calm my breathing. They look like runes.

“What does each symbol mean?” I reach out, running my fingers over one mythical-looking shape, feeling his skin turn hot beneath my touch. “Sorry.” I jerk my hand back, worried I’ve activated something. (Clearly, I’ve watched too much TV.)

“You did not hurt me. Your touch feels good. It…um…” He shakes his head, looking down at the symbol on his forearm. “Each elvish marking shows our ancestral lineage.” Obviously, he’s not going to finish his thought, and now my body is fluttering with curiosity, eagerly wanting to know if he’s having the same reaction that I am. If he’s feeling the tingling throughout his entire body. Feeling the heat flickering up his spine. “And these”—he points to the small alien-looking numbers etched into his wrist—“signify what job we have for Santa each year. So, this in my language means ‘Santa’s Earth Helper.’”

“So, every mall Santa is an elf?”

He shakes his head. “No. Elves are usually only sent in when Santa deems it necessary. I got in trouble, so this is Santa’s way of teaching me a lesson. He doesn’t think I have Christmas cheer anymore. He thinks I need the reminder of what Christmas means to people.”

“You got in trouble?” Now I’m curious as to what an elf could possibly do to get into trouble at the North Pole. Eat too many gumdrops when Santa wasn’t looking? Take the reindeer out for a ride without his permission?

“I altered a toy.” A mischievous smirk quirks up his lips. “I gave a little Jack-in-the-box a…um…an inappropriate part, and Santa caught me. I was just trying to make the toy funny,” he defends.

I burst out laughing. This naughty elf is a man after my own heart. That sounds exactly like a prank I would pull. And he’s not wrong. That toy has always been a classic, but I’ve never understood what’s fun about it. Who wants to sit there for hours on end, making a clown head pop out of the top?

“Your laugh is incredible.” My eyes return to his, and the look on his face has my giggle dying on my tongue. There’s an intensity in his stare that has my lower belly tightening. “I never knew a human could be so beautiful. Everything about you is perfection.” His voice drops even lower and my stomach twists tighter. “Your eyes remind me of lumps of coal with sparkling little diamonds right in the centers. Your lips remind me of sugar plums, plump and juicy, the perfect shade of burgundy. And your body…” His eyes drop down to my chest before ever so slowly scanning over my frame. “Is like a winter wonderland. Thick and curvy. With the prettiest two snow peaks sitting at the top.”

I squirm beneath his stare, feeling this uncanny pulse racing through my veins. It almost feels like magic is drawing me closer to him. I’ve never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Every part of my body is lit up with tingles, sizzling with this insane desire. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. His eyes dropping to the ground, now looking embarrassed or unsure. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Santa always tells me I need to use a filter when I speak, but my thoughts always just blurt right out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” My own filter fails me. Apparently, I suffer from the same problem. “You don’t ever have to filter yourself with me, Brawn. I admire your honesty.” It’s flattering to know he finds me attractive. For he is most certainly one fine specimen of a magical being.

The thought makes me wonder if the magic that flowed through his hands flows in other parts of his body. My eyes travel down to the spot I’m most curious about, and I nearly lose my balance when I see him protruding from his pants, creating one massive tent between his legs. My goodness. He does have giant blood in his veins.

“It’s never happened to me before.” His eyes drop to where mine had been shamelessly gawking. “In all my ninety-two elf years, I’ve never had this kind of reaction. But I can’t stop thinking of… I want…” he trails off, and this is one time I wish he wouldn’t use his filter. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I need to go.” He takes a step back, and then— poof!— he vanishes right into thin air. And I’m left hanging on to the last note of curiosity, wishing he'd come back and tell me what he wants to do.

The thought of him using that big, thick, magical wand between his legs on me has the pit of my belly lighting up with a need that is so heavy and demanding it’s almost otherworldly. I’ve never had such a strong reaction either. I climb back into my bed and reach for the special gift he left me last night. God, it feels like I’m burning up from the inside out. It feels like someone has taken possession of my body.

I quickly rid myself of my clothes, needing to be free of any constrictions. It’s all too much. Everything is tingling. I reach for the lamp and bask myself in the darkness, wondering if Brawn has returned to the North Pole and is working that massive cock of his right now. The intensity rolling off him was like a magnetic field. Goodness, I wish he’d stayed. I could’ve helped ease his pain. But from what he said, it has me wondering if he’s still a virgin. It could be why he ran.

I roll onto my stomach at the thought and rub against the silky sheets, feeling the soft material brush against my sensitive nipples. My pussy is already making a mess of my thighs. I’ve never been so soaked. The thought of that incredible man with his big hulking body never knowing the touch of a female for ninety-two years is beyond me. I’m only twenty and I’ve had two sexual partners. Not that they were any good, but I at least know what an orgasm feels like.

I reach for the purple rabbit, ready to give myself one right now. When the thick plastic head begins to vibrate, a shiver of anticipation runs straight to my clit. I take my toy down to the spot and press it right above the demanding little bean. The slight buzz instantly jolts me with a wave of lust. I close my eyes, picturing Brawn up at the North Pole, alone in his living quarters, with that unsettled feeling coursing through his veins. I imagine his large frame in a bed slightly too small. His huge fist wringing the need right from that massive member. Oh God, I wish I could watch.

The low grumble at the base of my bed has my eyes flying open. Brawn’s large frame is braced like a watchguard, lording over me. His eyes strained with tension. His shoulders stiff as a board. And there between his legs is that stiff protrusion that looks like it’s trying to break free of its cage.

“I have to say, little dove, had I known what that toy was used for, I wouldn’t have delivered it. I don’t like that it gets to touch you so intimately. It’s making me angry inside. I’ve never felt this way.”

The purple rabbit is suddenly ripped out of my hand and tossed aside. Brawn’s knees dropping to the bed as he ever so slowly stalks toward me. “I never quite understood why my parents would go against their own kind and break the most golden rule of the northern realm in order to be together, but now I do. You, my little human, have me wanting to be a very naughty elf.”

Another gush of my need comes seeping out right as he wedges himself between my legs. “If Santa knew the things I want to do to you, he’d send me to the South Pole.”

“What’s at the South Pole?” My voice comes out breathless as his big hands squeeze my thighs, his thick fingers sinking in and showing me his strength.

“It’s where nightmares live. The boogeyman. All the creatures that deliver bad dreams. It’s dark and hot as hell. But it’s exactly where I’d be sent if I acted upon my thoughts right now.”

Oh God. I don’t want to get him into trouble, but I’m dying to know what would be in store for me if he gave into temptation.

“Tell me. What exactly would you do, if you were allowed free rein over my body?”

He cracks his jaw to the side, the tension twisting him up tighter. “I’d lock you down, little dove. I’d make it to where you couldn’t get away even if you wanted to.” His voice is dark and menacing, and should probably be striking fear in me, considering I’m locked in my room with this huge magical stranger. A man who looks to be on the verge of snapping. But I’m not afraid; I’m eager to be his victim.

“Your body would become my playground. A place to explore…fondle…to play with as I see fit.” He reaches out, running one stiff finger down the center of my neck, trailing it down my chest, pausing in the center. Right between my full breasts. Goodness, I wish he’d grope me, but he doesn’t. His eyes, however, are burning every desire upon my flushed skin.

“I’d suck on these milky white mounds until they start feeding me.” A pool of need floods between my legs, drenching my bed at the thought. “Two little cherry treats, all tight and pointed right up.” His finger travels around the outside of my breast, torturing me with every slow pass. “Their sole purpose is to feed a human infant. Yet…I think they’re meant to be between my lips, tickling my tongue. I think they’re meant to be molded within the palms of my hands, tweaked between my fingers as I slide my girth between them.”

The moan slips right from my throat as I arch up, wanting him to bring that fantasy to life. I’ve never been a missionary princess who likes her lovemaking tame and gentle. I’m the type of girl who wants to be controlled, tested, and fucked raw. I’d let him do anything to my body. Anything the beast desired, he’d have my permission, so I don’t understand why he’d get into trouble.

“You like that idea, little dove? Does that mean you’d be a good little girl for me and let me have my naughty way with you?”

“Yes! I’d be very good girl.” My voice is a breathless cry of desperation as I squirm against my sheets. “Why can’t you touch me like that, Brawn?” I don’t understand why it’s forbidden if it’s of mutual consent.

His groan is a resounding sound against my wanton body, rumbling right down to the soaked spot between my legs, drenching me further. I want to pull him down on top of me and force him to take what he wants, but I don’t want to get him into trouble.

“It’s a golden rule. Elves aren’t just forbidden to mate with the giants, we’re forbidden to mate with humans, too. It’s to keep our races pure.”

“But what if no one were to find out?”

“But it would be going against Santa’s orders.” He shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be here enhancing Christmas spirit and joy. Converting nonbelievers into believers. My job is to make Christmas wishes come true, just being in your room could get me into trouble.”

“But you did turn me into a believer. And what if giving me pleasure is what I want for Christmas? What if that is what will bring me the most joy?”

The look that crosses his face sends a trickle of heat down my spine, making me squirm even more. “If that is what you wished for Christmas morning, I’d be able to deliver the present. But that is the only day it would be allowed. Not unless Santa granted me my wish.”

“And what is your wish?” I practically moan.

“For you to be mine.”

My entire body tingles with that magical feeling. My heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest. There’s something about this elf. Something beyond anything I can comprehend. It’s like we’re fated to be together. That’s the only explanation I can give for these intense feelings I’m already having. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life, and I don’t even know him.

“So, what do you have to do to make Santa give you your wish?” If there’s anything I can do, I will. I’ll wish upon every star in the sky if I have to.

“He told me that if I did a good job while I was here, followed his orders, behaved myself …” His emphasis is not lost on me. “That he would give me a Christmas gift this year. And the gift I would ask for is you. Which means…” He scoots back, removing his hands from my body. “I shouldn’t be here doing this. I need to leave.”

“But I wished you here,” I protest, not wanting him to go. “So he can’t be mad. It’s what I wanted.”

He shakes his head, looking back down at my body as he reaches for the sheet at the base of my bed. He pulls it up to cover me, and disappointment settles into my gut like a stocking of black coal.

“I can be here. But I am not allowed to cross a line. And honestly, I’ve already crossed way over that forbidden line. But Santa is forgiving, and if he sees how well I restrained myself from what I truly wanted, if he sees how hard I fought not to give into temptation, then I think he’ll forgive me. I have never been one to resist. I’m the elf that is perpetually on the naughty list. I’m impulsive and defiant, which is why, if I can stay strong, I believe he’ll grant me such a big request.”

I hate that he’s beholden to some magical code, but I would never want to do anything to risk him being sent to the South Pole. I would never forgive myself, knowing that he was living amongst evil. He may be naughty, he may even have a devilish mind, but he does not strike me as someone who would fare well in the darkness.

“Okay,” I tell him, tucking myself further underneath my blanket. “But could you at least stay and talk?”

“Yes.” He nods. “I can do that.”