Kraved by Krampus (Yule Be Mine Monster)

12. Clara

Chapter twelve

Clara

I exhale slowly after Krampus leaves. The quiet of the library settles around me, and for a moment, I consider heading to bed. But something pulls at me—an itch beneath my skin. My fingers twitch, eager to hold a pen again.

Magnus seems to sense my restlessness, and with a whisper of magic, a soft blanket and a steaming cup of tea appear. I don’t question it this time.

A girl could get used to this.

With a small smile, I settle into the armchair, letting the blanket wrap around me like a familiar comfort. My fingers wrap around the pen, and the words begin to flow from some place deep within.

The dark deity stands in the shadows, watching his muse with a smoldering gaze. She sits at her desk, unaware of his presence, her face illuminated by the soft glow of her lamp. With a playful gleam in his eye, he steps closer, his footfalls silent on the wood floor.

I write of his movement, his power filling the room, and an inkling of what’s to come curls in my stomach. It’s like there’s a part of me that knows what he’ll do next, even before I put pen to paper. My pulse quickens as he stops behind her, close enough that she can feel his breath on her neck.

“What are you afraid of, little muse?” His deep voice rumbles, sending a jolt of fear through her.

No, that’s not right. It’s not just fear. I scratch out the last sentence and try again, letting my pen glide across the page.

“What do you desire, little one? Beyond the safety of your wholesome stories, what dark fantasies lurk in that beautiful mind of yours?” His warm breath tickles her ear, sending a rush of goosebumps down her arms.

The muse freezes, her pen hovering above the paper. Desire. The word reverberates through her, and for a fleeting moment, she considers turning to face him. But instead, she answers with a question of her own.

“Why do you care what I desire?”

The deity chuckles, and the sound wraps around her like a caress. “Because, my dear, I intend to give it to you.”

I pause, my pen hovering as I consider the implications of that statement. What would happen if this mysterious deity gave in to her deepest desires? A thrill runs through me, and my eyes flick to the window, where the snow falls silently outside. With a small smile, I let my pen move again, writing the muse’s next words.

“And what makes you think I would accept such a thing?”

His deep laugh washes over her like warm honey, and suddenly, he’s so close that his lips brush her ear as he speaks. “Because you crave it. You crave me.”

My heart pounds as I write, the words spilling out faster now. The muse’s breath catches, and her pulse thrums in her veins. Is it true? Does she crave this dark deity and the promises he brings?

Do I?

I lick my lips, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I write the next part. The words flow from my pen, bringing the dark deity to life. He’s a force of nature, pursuing his muse with relentless determination.

The deity circles his muse like a predator, his eyes gleaming with an unspoken promise. She tries to ignore the way her breath quickens, the way her body responds to his nearness. It’s a game of cat and mouse, and she knows he’s toying with her, drawing out the chase.

With each step, the air between them thickens, heavy with desire and a hint of fear. He corners her, his broad shoulders blocking the exit. She can feel his warmth, sense the power radiating from him.

“Are you afraid, little one?” His deep voice, a low rumble, makes me feel a thrill. “Afraid of what I might do?”

What would he do? I wonder, my eyes narrowing as I write. A tingling sensation rushes through my body as the thought crosses my mind, and I let my pen move across the page, bringing the scene to life.

“You know what I could do.” His lips curve into a wicked smile as he steps closer, his shadow engulfing her. “But the question is, do you want it?”

My breath hitches as I write, feeling the tension in the air between them. The muse is me, and yet she isn’t. I live vicariously through her, exploring my hidden desires on the page.

The muse bites her lip, her heart hammering in her chest. “Maybe I do.” The admission is a whisper, a challenge, and an invitation.

With a growl, the deity closes the distance between them, his large hand curling around her waist, pulling her closer. “Maybe isn’t good enough.”

I chew on the end of my pen, feeling my cheeks flush as I write the next line. My heart races, and I realize I’m holding my breath.

“Then show me.” The muse’s eyes flash with a mixture of courage and uncertainty. “Take what you want.”

There’s a challenge in her words, a dare that hangs in the air between them. The deity’s eyes darken, and his gaze holds her captive as he leans in, his lips hovering just above hers.

“As you wish, my brave little muse.”

His words are a promise, a whisper of dark things to come. And then his lips claim hers, and everything changes.

It’s like a spark ignites within me, a thrilling rush of adrenaline. The kiss is ravenous, demanding, and yet it sends waves of exhilaration through me. I feel the muse surrender, giving in to the thrill of being under his control. My body reacts, my heart pounding and my breath catching as if it’s happening to me.

Suddenly shadows surround me, and fantasy and reality become one. Krampus is with me and his hands are everywhere, pulling me closer, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through me. I’m helpless to resist, caught in a torrent of sensations. His lips leave mine, trailing kisses along my jaw, and then lower, his breath hot against my skin.

I moan, my body arching toward him as his mouth finds the sensitive spot below my ear. His hands tighten on my hips, his touch firm and possessive.

“You’re mine,” his voice a deep rumble that races through my body. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I breathe, my voice thick with desire.

He growls in response, and then his lips are on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin lightly. My head falls back, exposing my neck as I surrender to the pleasure. His hands move up my body, his touch feather-light and yet somehow possessive.

And then, without warning, he pulls away, leaving me breathless and aching. His breath is warm on my neck.

“Not yet, little one,” he teases, his voice a low purr.

The world tilts as he pulls away, and suddenly the library is gone. We’re in a dark, intimate space, with heavy curtains drawn over the windows and a large, plush bed in the center.

I take a step back, my heart hammering in my chest. The air is thick with anticipation, and I realize this is my desire, brought to life. I bite my lip as he advances toward me, his eyes burning with unspoken promises.

“I intend to show you just how much I crave you,” he says, his voice a low growl. “And I plan to take my time.”

He reaches out, his fingers brushing my arm lightly, a jolt right to my core. I stand still as he explores my body with his hands, his touch gentle and reverent. It’s like he’s memorizing every inch of me, learning my curves, the ones I am usually self-conscious of, and I find myself surrendering to the sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. “So responsive.”

His hands glide down my sides, resting on my hips, and he pulls me gently toward him. I move without hesitation, my body instinctively seeking his. He cups my face, his thumb brushing my bottom lip, and he leans in, his kiss tender and slow. It’s a contrast to the rush of desire coursing through my body, and I feel myself melting into him.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips along my jaw, and then down my neck. I tilt my head back, granting him access, and he takes his time, worshiping my skin with feather-light kisses and gentle nips. I moan softly, my hands clutching at his shoulders, my body aching for more.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against my skin, and then he whispers, “Patience, my little muse. I plan to explore every inch of you.”

He steps back, and I feel a twinge of loss at the absence of his touch. But then I see what he’s doing, and a thrill runs through me. As I watch, he reaches down, his fingers hooking into the hem of his shirt. With a slow, deliberate motion, he peels it off, revealing the contours of his body. Each muscle seems to ripple and dance in the dim light. I’ve felt the solidness of him before, but seeing him like this, in all his glory, is something else entirely. It’s a sight that sets my nerves alight with anticipation.

He towers over me, a striking figure even in this humanoid form, with those obsidian horns curling menacingly from his brow, catching the dim light with a wicked sheen. His deep-set, smoldering red eyes hold an intensity that sends exhilaration racing through me.

The shadows dance around him, almost alive, reflecting the tempest of emotions surging within me. When he draws closer, I feel warmth emanating from him, contrasting sharply against the cold snap of the winter night, a reminder of his duality—dark yet undeniably magnetic.

I am caught between the heart-stopping fear of his monstrous nature and the intoxicating allure of his presence. As his hand grazes my cheek, I feel the hard edge of his claws just barely avoiding nicking my skin, and it excites me even more.

My breath catches as shadows dance across his sculpted chest, highlighting every defined muscle. His movements are deliberate, almost hypnotic, and I find myself transfixed by the raw power in his form, and my eyes are drawn to the obvious evidence of his desire for me.

“Now, where were we?” he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

He closes the distance between us. He stands before me, his body powerful and dominant.

“Touch me,” he commands, his voice hoarse.

I reach out tentatively, my fingers grazing his chest and trailing down to the fabric of his pants. “Are you sure you won’t eat me?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

Krampus chuckles, but there’s a dangerous edge to the sound. “Eat you? I will devour you.”

The temperature in the room drops suddenly, but before I can react, he has grabbed my wrists, pulling my hands in front of me. He lifts my oversized sweater over my head and off my arms, and then binds my wrists with what seems to be a lock of shadow, the binding warm and comforting against my skin.

I look up at him with alarm. “What are you doing?”

Krampus grins, and the expression is pure sin. “Just playing along with your fantasies, little one.”

I flush, realizing that he’s referring to the scene I wrote. The one where he ties up and teases his muse until she begs for release. The one I burned.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly.

“I’m sure of everything with you,” Krampus replies, his voice low and husky. “Now, be a good girl and let me take care of you.”

He steps back and reaches up, bringing down a chain hook from the ceiling. He loops it through the bindings on my wrists, and suddenly, I’m stretched out with my arms above my head.

I struggle against the bindings, but they hold fast. Krampus chuckles, his voice a low rumble. “No use fighting it, little one. You know you want this.”

I bite my lip, feeling a rush of heat flood my body. It’s humiliating to be so vulnerable, so exposed, but at the same time, it’s thrilling. I’ve never felt so desired, so wanted.

“Well, well,” he says, his hot breath tickling my ear. “What do we have here? Little Miss Naughty?”

I squirm against the chains, but they hold me fast. Krampus laughs, the sound that’s sinister and seductive.

Krampus steps closer, his eyes roving over my body, taking in every curve, every dip. I blush under his scrutiny, feeling like I’m on display for his pleasure.

“Ah, my little muse,” he purrs, trailing a claw down my cheek. “So resistant, but so responsive. I can smell your arousal, feel your excitement, taste your fear. It’s intoxicating.”

With that, he leans in, his lips brushing against my throat in the softest of kisses. I shudder, feeling his hot breath on my skin, and I feel my body respond, my pussy growing slick with need.

“You’re so beautiful like this. Offering yourself to me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “I can hardly wait to taste every inch of you.”

Krampus trails kisses down my neck, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin. I moan, my head falling back in pleasure, and he chuckles, the sound making my body tingle with excitement.

“You like that, don’t you?” His lips brush against my ear. “Being at my mercy, knowing that I can do whatever I want to you.”

I whimper, feeling a rush of heat flood my body at his words. It’s true, I do like it, even if I’m ashamed to admit it to myself. Being at his mercy, being completely under his control, it’s exhilarating.

Krampus must sense my hesitation, because he pulls back, his eyes searching mine. “Clara, you’re not alone in this. I want you, all of you. And I’ll take my time exploring every inch of you, until you know just how much I crave you.”

I shudder, feeling a mix of desire and fear. Krampus is dark, dangerous, but I can’t deny the way my body reacts to him, the way I ache for his touch.

He must sense my surrender, because he grins, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his hands caressing my skin.

Krampus’s fingers dance along the edge of my pants, before he removes them from me with a single slice of his claw. His other claw presses against my clit though my underwear and I gasp, feeling a jolt of pleasure shoot through me.

“Sensitive, are we?” he teases as his fingers move against me. “And so wet already.”

I try to push my hips forward, seeking more of his touch, but he pulls back, leaving me aching and frustrated.

“Ah, ah,” he chides, wagging a finger at me. “Patience, my little muse. We haven’t even begun to play yet.”

With that, he slices my underwear too, retracts his claw and plunges a finger into my pussy, his touch deep and demanding. I cry out, arching my back in pleasure, and he chuckles, the sound vibrating against my skin.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his finger pumping in and out of me. “Let me feel how wet you are for me.”

I moan, feeling my juices dripping down my thighs, coating Krampus’s finger. He smirks, the look both arrogant and triumphant.

“You’re mine,” he growls, adding another finger and rubbing against my g-spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I gasp, my body trembling with need.

I shudder, my body trembling with need as Krampus’s fingers work magic within me. “Please,” I whimper, “I can’t take anymore.”

He chuckles. “Oh, but you can, little one. Your body is made for this, made to crave my touch.”

Krampus’s fingers never stop moving, grazing my walls in the most sinful way. I moan, arching my back, seeking more of his touch. He’s so deep inside me, so perfect.

“You’re doing so well,” he purrs, his thumb brushing against my clit. “So wet for me.”

I gasp as a jolt of pleasure courses through me. “Yes,” I pant, “I’m yours. All yours.”

“And you will be,” Krampus growls, “in every way possible.”

He’s still pumping in and out of me, his fingers curling just right. I can feel the pressure building, the intense rush of desire that’s threatening to overwhelm me.

“Krampus,” I moan, “Please.”

He leans down, his lips brushing against my lips. “Yes, little mate? What do you want from me?”

I shudder, my body trembling with need. “I want to come. I need to come.”

“Then come for me,” he commands, his fingers moving faster within me. “Come for me like the good little muse you are.”

His words are all it takes. I scream, my body convulsing as the pleasure crashes over me in waves. Krampus holds me tight, his fingers still pumping, still moving within me, prolonging the rush of ecstasy, and my body shakes with the force of it.

When it’s over, I slump against the chains, panting, drenched in sweat. He gently releases me, catching me before I can fall.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, cradling me against his chest. “My sweet, brave little muse.”

I bury my face against Krampus’s neck, and I feel myself blushing with embarrassment and shame. “Why did you let me burn it?”

He chuckles, the sound a low rumble against my skin. “That was your choice, but I knew I could show you that your fantasies are nothing to be ashamed of. They’re a part of you, a part of this.”

His hand trails down my body, caressing my curves, igniting a new fire within me. “And now, I want to make you come undone all over again.”