Little Miss Santa Claws

14. Nicole

CHAPTER 14

Nicole

M issy leads me out of her father’s office and into a hallway masked by a rolling jukebox and red curtains. The corridor continues for several feet before we pass through a second set of curtains and enter a large, dark room. The heady scent of pine and cinnamon tickles the edge of my senses.

The only thing I can see with clarity is the snowy tundra glowing through the windows directly across from us, tall evergreens and stray reindeer dotting the landscape.

Then, a switch is flicked to my left, and electric lamps flutter to life around us, illuminating the space. There’s a kitchen to the right and the living room straight ahead. I bite down on a shiver as we walk in. It’s chilly in here. The wall of windows is likely to blame. But there’s also a large stone fireplace in the living room that Missy immediately heads toward after letting go of my hand, allowing me to roam around on my own.

Garlands of pine needles and red berries hang on every available surface—on the tables and counters and the rugged stone mantle, and even wrapped tightly around the wooden staircase railings at the far end of the kitchen. Other than that and a decorated tree standing in the living room, the house seems rather ordinary.

The living room is painted a light sage green, and the kitchen boasts accents of red and gold. The Christmas cheer here in here is soft, understated. Not at all what I expected. But maybe I shouldn’t have expected anything in particular—I don’t think they celebrate Christmas here, not like Earth does. This is simply what their world looks like. I notice the hints of black throughout the room as well. The black and white pictures hanging on the walls. The ebony carpet in the living room. The macabre knick-knacks sitting on the shelves beside me.

I choke on a gasp when I see the corpse of a fairy, seemingly embalmed within a shadow box.

Missy pauses on her way to the fireplace, reaching behind the Christmas tree to turn on its lights by twisting one of the bulbs. Then, she turns to see what I’m staring at. “Ah, yes. Don’t worry, that little sprite met a natural end before I stumbled upon it. It seemed like a pity to waste her beauty in death. Now, she’s something of a good luck charm to me. I’ve had her since I was a very young elfling.” Then, she kneels beside the fireplace and begins stacking pieces of wood in the hearth, as if the sight of a real-life fairy—or sprite, like she said—isn’t a shock in and of itself.

“You could have used her luck in the sleigh tonight, I think,” I mutter.

Missy smiles at me over her shoulder. “That’s true. I’ll keep that in mind for next year.”

I ruminate on which of the many questions floating around my head to ask first. I settle on, “How long has it been since you were an elfling?” I’m just now realizing that she could be hundreds or thousands of years old. If Santa is an eternal figure, how long do elves live?

She seems to hear my unspoken curiosity and smirks.

“I’ve been alive for quite some time, Nicole. Time works differently here. When our stars are aligned with Earth, I age at the same rate as a human, but time practically stands still once the stars burst and we begin our orbit. Anyone who resides on this planet experiences a longer lifetime because of that.”

“So that would make you…”

“In human years, I believe I’d be coming up on my 10,957 th birthday.”

My jaw drops, and Missy laughs.

“But by elf standards, I am still young,” she clarifies, her blue eyes twinkling with firelight as the flame in the hearth grows larger.

My head spins as I absorb that. “My god. How are you?—”

She holds up a hand covered in soot. “Before you jump to conclusions, you should know that the length of our orbits feels much shorter than the year you experience on Earth. Like I said, the passage of time is different here. I imagine I am quite a bit older than you, but not by nearly eleven thousand years.”

I try to make sense of her words, but they’re a bit of a mind fuck.

She laughs again then stands and brushes the soot off her hands, leaving behind black streaks on her red trousers. “Don’t think about it too hard, precious. It is difficult to make sense of such magic, and even the best wizards of our realm are perplexed by the design of our alignment. It simply is . You are not the first world we have served. There have been many before you, and there will be others afterward.”

It takes me a moment to decipher her statement, momentarily distracted by the fact that she called me precious again. It makes me feel precious.

Then, I start to understand.

After our world dies, she means. She outlives worlds .

“Right,” I choke out. “So, how did this whole Santa thing begin? One day, an elf just happened to realize that your world aligns with others? Then they decided to give everyone on the planet presents just for fun? Is this a hobby to your kind?”

My words sound harsher than I intend them to be, but it’s a valid question. What are we to her? What am I?

Missy purses her lips. A certain light creeps into her eyes, a certain knowingness . “The greatest magic—the root of my kin’s power—is compassion. That is how we create, how we live. If you were to see someone suffering, younglings especially, wouldn’t you try to make it better in any way you could? Some think gifts are trivial, but they’re not. A meaningful gift can convince someone that they matter, that someone sees what they long for and who they are, what is important to them. For just one day, they feel known. And that feeling lingers long after the holiday is gone. Humans who believe in Christmas are really just believing in themselves. That they can hold on for another day, another season, another year. That they can experience joy again, despite the hardships they endure. It is a privilege to be a part of that. It is an honor to inspire those who want to give up. However our duty began, that dream was at the heart of it.”

I rake in a deep breath, letting the warmth of her beliefs fill me up like helium. “That’s…beautiful. If it’s true.”

“It is.”

For a few long moments, we just stand there, staring at each other. Discomfort and uncertainty weaves between us.

I shift on my feet as Missy looks me up and down. Her expression is passively pleasant but difficult to read. She didn’t lead me upstairs, where I’m assuming her bedroom is, so does that mean she doesn’t want to take things further? Is she keeping me at a distance on purpose?

The connection I feel with her is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I think that goes beyond Christmas. Something inside me recognizes her, feels at home with her. Tomorrow, I’ll be back on Earth, in my mother’s house, alone . Right now, tonight, though, I’m in the North Pole, surrounded by magic beyond my wildest dreams. I’m standing in front of a beautiful elven woman who seems to see through to my innermost being with ease. I want to see how deep this feeling can go, but only if she wants that too.

“What now?” I whisper.

She grimaces, glancing down at her clothes. “I should take a shower. I’m fairly certain I still have puke in my hair.”

“Oh,” I mumble. “Okay.”

I duck my head to hide the embarrassment warming my cheeks and perch on the edge of the couch. Why did she even bring me here? To show me the most incredible place in the universe and then leave me alone in her living room while she gets all wet and sudsy somewhere else?

This is a unique form of torture. But I am on the naughty list, so maybe I deserve it.

“Nicole?”

My head snaps up at the dulcet cadence of her voice.

Missy leans forward over the threshold of the bathroom, her hands braced on either side of the doorframe. A wicked smile twists her lips to one side. Her body is stretched taut and her red shirt is riding up, revealing a sliver of her tattooed abdomen. I admire the slope of her hips and the valleys on either side of her soft belly. She’s so fucking sexy.

My stomach tightens, and I have to clear my throat in order to respond. “Yes?”

She peers at me through heavy lids, her stark-white eyelashes fluttering. “Join me?”

Join her? In the shower? My heart rockets into outer space, and my stomach does a triple backflip into a pool of lava. Fuck yes.

Missy sees the answer in my eyes and slips away, beckoning me after her with a smirk.

As I step into the washroom, a thousand or more twinkling lights flicker on.

Multicolored string lights have been hung on the ceiling. They droop along the top of each wall and crisscross chaotically overhead. There are lamps built into the wall above the mirror, but every lightbulb has been pulled from those sockets in favor of the string lights. The twinkling red, green, and blue lights cast the small room in a dim, soothing glow.

I close the door behind us. The reindeer roaming outside don’t get to watch this. I want Missy all to myself right now.

Missy leans into the shower and turns the water on, taking her time adjusting the temperature. When she finally turns around and her eyes meet mine, there’s a hot lump in my throat. I haven’t done anything like this in a long time.

I’m about to have a one-night stand…with Santa .

Missy chuckles softly, effectively breaking the tension. “Don’t be nervous,” she whispers, grasping the hem of her shirt and peeling it over her head in one smooth motion. She drops it on the counter and then unbuckles the belt on her trousers. As she kicks off her boots and wiggles out of her pants, I drink in the silver lingerie set hugging her curves. It matches her tinsel hair, glistening softly under the string lights in the bathroom. She looks like a star.

I suddenly find it hard to swallow. Her body is delectable, her pale skin luminous and adorned with ink. As she steps forward, her eyes drop pointedly to my clothes, and my mouth dries up.

My turn .

I peel her father’s coat off my shoulders, folding it gently on the counter before facing her. I’m nervous. I can’t help it. It’s been years since my last first time with someone. I’ve gotten older since then. I have wrinkles and cellulite and stretch marks now. And she is flawless.

Raking in a deep breath, I slowly slide my leggings down my thighs, watching her reaction with my heart pounding in my throat. A welcome wave of excitement surges through me as her eyes fill with hunger. She inches forward. I didn’t wear a bra tonight, but somehow, her heated stare gives me the courage to pull my tank top off without another moment of hesitation. My nipples are hard, dark and puckering.

Missy smiles, unabashedly appreciating my chest.

Then, with a breathless noise that makes my core clench, she closes the distance between us, launching up on the balls of her feet to wrap her arms around my neck. She kisses me so forcefully, I stagger back.

My hands clutch her waist then glide up her back as she pushes me against the wall.

I can’t help but shudder when her warm body presses into mine. Our curves meld together, every hill finding a valley, every swell discovering a shore. We crash into each other like atoms. I’m shattering, getting lost in her gravity and reassembling myself within the stellar nebula that is her embrace. She’s my Milky Way.

One Big Bang, and I exist again.

There is nothing I want more than to stay here in this moment with her, preferably forever. I need to touch more of her. I just might die if I don’t do it right now, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for dying before knowing how she tastes.

Even if I have to lose her tomorrow.

I shift my hands to Missy’s hips and press a thigh between her legs. As her fingers dig into my hair, I force her hips down, guiding her cunt over my thigh. She moans at the friction, and the sound sets fire to my skin.

Catching on to my desires, she devours me. Her tongue plunges into my mouth, sweeping and flicking as she grinds against me harder. Her fingers fist in my hair. My fingertips dig into the flesh of her ass. Her lips shift to my jaw, then my neck. She kisses my skin with the perfect suction, her teeth grazing with delicious precision along my carotid, and I just know I’m going to wake up with hickeys in the morning.

That excites me more than it probably should.

I want to be marked by her.

Missy nips her way across my collarbone before dipping her tongue into the hollow at the base of my throat. My back arches. My head kicks back against the wall, and my eyes close as I drown in the sensation of her mouth against my skin. Her hands cup my breasts, kneading them roughly as her kisses trail down my sternum. Then, she pushes my tits together and buries her face between them. She hums, and the sound reverberates through my ribcage. Her tongue blazes across my sensitive nipples, circling and flicking, teasing me ruthlessly until her teeth finally sink into one.

I whimper, threading my fingers into her silky hair.

She continues ravaging my breasts with her mouth, but my attention is drawn lower when her fingertips dance across my belly, brushing the waistband of my cotton panties.

It figures I would finally get laid while wearing my tightie-whities.

Missy doesn’t seem to mind, though. I cease to care myself as she slips her hand under the waistband and explores the throbbing ache between my legs. Her nails sift through my curls, applying just enough pressure along my seam to drive me crazy—my body bucks in desperation. I tilt my hips toward her, and her fingertips find my clit.

She rubs the swollen bundle of nerves skillfully, making my mouth salivate and my skin break out in goosebumps.

I take her face in my hands and drag her lips back to mine.

Her palm wraps around my throat and pushes me back, her nails turning to claws on either side of my neck. Pain furrows the grayish-blue skin between her eyebrows. The usual rosy tone of her complexion and the moon side of her nature battle across her features, her Krampus tickling just beneath the surface.

She’s so beautiful like that, hovering between dark and light.

Missy gazes up at me with a slack jaw and sharpened canines. When I lean forward, she tightens her grip on my neck to stop me, shaking her head as the furrow in her forehead deepens.

“What is it?” I whisper, my worry bleeding through the words.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head again. “I just need a moment to compose myself. I’m too close to losing control.”

“Lose it, then.”

Missy’s eyes flash open, her head bobbing back in surprise. When she sees I mean it, she swallows audibly. “You don’t understand how intense the shift can be when sex is involved, precious. I don’t want to scare you.”

I smiled, tracing lines up and down her spine. “I’m not scared, Missy. I want all of you.”

A wave of relief ripples over her. She softens her grip on my throat while her other hand shifts to my hair. Carefully hooking a claw into my hairband, she cuts the elastic tie, and my curls fall around my shoulders. She draws my dark hair forward to frame my face, smiling softly.

Missy’s gaze makes my spine tingle, so doting and tender and warm—a sharp contrast to her shifting grey skin and the horns budding on the crown of her head.

Dropping her claws to my panties, she rips through the white fabric, and it falls away. She looks down the length of my body, seemingly captivated by the dark curls between my thighs. The horns on her head lengthen and curl into dangerous points.

Then, she speaks, and the words are laced with dominance. “Shower.”

I barely recognize her voice, raw and deepened with desire, but I obey it without a second thought. Turning toward the shower, I’m met with my reflection. I’m also gifted with the view of Missy bending over to glide her panties down her legs. I fight against every yearning fiber of my body—the ones begging me to turn around and fall to my knees behind her—and enter the small, tiled shower. The warm shower spray engulfs my side, and steam pebbles across my skin.

I revel in the cascading water for a moment, watching through the frosted glass as Missy’s blurry silhouette reaches back and frees her breasts from the silver bralette.

Then, she turns and enters the shower behind me, and I twist to greet her with a smile.

My breath steals out of my chest when I see her. She’s an absolute vision, probably the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen.

No —she is. Nothing and no one compares to the creature standing in front of me.

Her Krampus horns are still visible, but the rest of her body has shifted back to a warmer complexion, her puckered nipples a dusky pink against her otherwise pale skin. Tattoos stretch across her stomach and up over her ribs. These tattoos are different from the rest, and I find it fitting that they seem to reflect her more monstrous form. Winged insects and flowers weave through a stylized animal skull, a forked tongue emerging from its mouth. It’s no animal skull I’m familiar with, so it must be a creature that lives here in the North Pole.

Or perhaps it’s a Krampus skull, I suddenly realize.

I want to kiss every single inch of her belly, just to know what the ink feels like beneath my tongue. The smirk Missy gives me when she notices my distraction is enough to push me over the edge. I yank her into my arms, kissing her soundly before she has a chance to react, before she has a chance to take control. I pin her up against the wall of the shower, and she gasps in surprise, goosebumps spreading across her skin from the cold surface. I take that opportunity to slide my tongue between her lips.

I want more. I need more.

I drop into a crouch, my face level with her bare, slender-lipped pussy. Pushing her knees apart, I lean forward and slide my tongue through the peak of her slit, my eyes fluttering as her arousal fills my senses. She’s slick and hot. I can feel her pulse throbbing through her center. My tongue rolls over her clit as I lift her knee over my shoulder, spreading her wide. I savor the guttural groan she makes as I lick her opening. Then, I thrust my tongue into her to hear it again.

Digging my fingers into her hips to hold her in place, I attempt to devour her very soul.

Missy fingers thread through my hair, her claws gently scratching my scalp as she presses my mouth more firmly against her. She’s already close. I can sense it in the trembling of her thighs, the sharpening pitch of her moans. Then, her pleasure bursts, and she comes in my mouth.

I drink down every bit of her and then pull away to meet her stare.

She has surrendered wholly to the Krampus. Her skin is dark gray, and her horns are larger than I’ve seen them. The bones of her skeleton are closer to the surface somehow, beveled, visible through her skin.

Without taking her eyes off me, she reaches over and turns off the shower.

Missy doesn’t pause to grab a towel for either of us. She simply pulls me along behind her, both of us soaking wet, out of the washroom and into the living room. The moment we step over the threshold, she flicks her wrist, and several of her macabre knick-knacks come to life, flying off the shelves towards the couch. Stuffed bats and broken angel statues and creepy old dolls leap onto the cushions, grabbing the blankets and throw pillows from the furniture. They drag the soft layers to the floor and arrange them in front of the fireplace.

By the time we reach the hearth, the knick-knacks have finished their task and start returning to their shelves.

My eyes lock with Missy’s, her eyes burning like blue fire. She spins us around so I have my back to the soft bedding, and before I can catch my breath, she pushes me. I fall into the thick nest of blankets, and she follows me down, kneeling between my legs. Shoving my knees apart, she looks at the triangle of curls between my thighs and growls deep in her chest. As her lips part, I see her canines have elongated. She doesn’t look like a Christmas elf right now. She looks like the sort of creature who would live on the edge of a forbidden forest, beckoning you into her deadly embrace with wicked smiles and promises of unthinkable power.

The elves who live in the North Pole are real , and the shadows that live within each human lives within them too. They’re a little bit scary, but they’re magnificent.

Missy’s sharp claws graze along my slit, and I gasp in surprise, my body stiffening as she carefully caresses my slick lips. Then, her hand shifts. She continues with her knuckles, applying glorious pressure against my clit. My hips twitch as I groan, and she grips my hip firmly, forcing me to remain still as she kneads my aching nerves, circling and rubbing while I pant at the ceiling.

“Oh my God,” I whine. “Please, Missy. Please .”

She stops touching me, and I could have cried at the throb between my legs as Missy leans over me, capturing my full attention. A cool tingle spreads across my body when I see the look in her eyes. There’s anger here. Or…frustration, maybe.

Missy bares her teeth and says, “You want to know what really squishes my sugar plums, Nicole?”

I tentatively nod, a prickle of fear dancing across my nape of my neck.

“No one ever thanks Santa. Not really. It’s always please this and please that. It’s only ever begging and wanting and endless demands.” Her head tilts to one side, an animalistic quality to the motion. “Do you think that’s nice ?”

My heart starts hammering against my ribs. I swallow the acrid dread sticking in the back of my throat and shake my head.

Missy smiles. “I’m a giver, precious, but you damn well better realize that I’m going to be thanked for it. Think you can handle that?”

With some effort, I manage to nod again.

“Use your words.”

I clear my throat and lick my dry lips, fear and arousal thickening the blood in my veins. “Yes.”

Her smile grows, her jaw slackening as a thick, black tongue slithers out of her mouth. It curls in mid-air, long and flexible and forked at the very tip. She leans forward and licks up the column of my neck, her tongue swirling over the shell of my ear.

My body shudders.

“I want to give you pleasure, but I need you to do something for me in return.” She slips a fist between my thighs again, stroking my clit.

“Anything,” I choke out.

“I expect you to thank me for each one of your orgasms. Loudly .”

“Yes, yes,” I exhale shakily, “whatever you want.”

Missy chuckles softly then peels away from me, her hand and the heat of her breath disappearing from my skin.

My eyes flash open, and I rise on my forearms, trying to follow her wherever she’s going, but she spreads a hand over the center of my chest. She pushes me back down into the blankets. “Don’t move. I have to go get something, and I want you to stay here.”

My brow furrows. I don’t want her to leave.

She sees the desperation in my eyes and shakes her head, smirking as she grabs one of my hands and drags it to the ache between my legs. “Keep playing with yourself while I’m gone. Don’t stop. If you stop, I’ll be very angry with you. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“And don’t come. That belongs to me.” Her gaze sears into me, serious and starving.

“Okay,” I whisper.

Missy glances pointedly at my hand, and I start circling my clit, the sensation pulling a long moan from my lungs. Satisfied with my obedience, Missy stands. I’m only vaguely aware of her walking away, my attention torn in several directions, but then her voice cuts through the static. “And Nicole? One more thing.”

I pry my eyes open and see her standing on the bottom step of the staircase. “Yes?”

She gives me an uncertain smile, and I think she might be nervous . “Think of me.”

God help me.

“No problem,” I say, grinning cheekily as she takes off up the stairs. It would be impossible to not think of her. Of that wicked Krampus tongue filling my pussy. Of her silken hair in my hands and her body draped over mine.

I lose myself to the fantasies.

It’s a struggle keeping myself from the edge of ecstasy, but I manage it, if only barely. My whole body is trembling by the time I hear her return, my fingers soaked with my own arousal.

Missy kneels beside me, setting a short, red velvet box on the floor next to our nest of blankets. She unlatches the lock and flips the top open. A long column of silicone sits inside. It looks like a…candy cane? Red and white silicone spirals down its length.

As she lifts the item out of the box, I realize what it is.

A candy-cane colored silicone sex toy. One side is shaped like a typical vibrator, but the other side curves slightly and has a short, bulbous tip. The way it’s shaped… I think both of us are supposed to use it. At the same time .

Nervous butterflies fill my stomach, my pulse fluttering wildly as she crawls back between my legs with the toy in hand.

She pushes my hand away and grazes a knuckle across my lips, smiling when she finds me soaked. “You are so wet, Nicole.” The way she says my name makes me want to cry. Cry and come and cry. “Needy and wet. Exactly what I wanted.”

Missy turns the dildo in her hands and then lines up the short, bulbous side with my entrance.

She starts kneading my clit as she circles the bulge into my channel, pressing in only an inch before withdrawing. As she does that again, her fingers move more firmly against where I throb.

My back arches off the floor, and Missy lightens her touch.

Her long tongue trails across my chest, twirling around and flicking my nipples. She hums in appreciation. “Say please again, precious. Tell me what you want.”

“ Please . Please make me come.”

“And you’re going to thank me, yes?”

“Yes, Miss Claus.” I pull her down for a kiss, and her hands continue their impeccable work until I’m crying my release into her mouth. My pussy gushes, covering the toy and Missy’s hand.

Missy grasps my chin with her free hand and leans back, forcing me to look at her.

“Thank you,” I sob. “Thank you, baby.”

As I continue coming down, Missy removes the dildo, and I bite back a wince. Everything is extra sensitive right now. It has been a while. “That’s it,” she purrs.

She lifts the toy in front of her to admire my glistening cum.

I don’t think I’ve ever been called perfect before, not like this. Her praise is going straight to my head—I’m light-headed and warm and tingly all over.

I watch in some kind of pleasure-addled fugue state as Missy leans back and spreads her legs right there in front of me, holding herself up with one hand as she brings the dildo to her pussy with the other. Her jaw slackens, her Krampus tongue rolling over her chin as she pushes the bulbous end—the same end that was just inside me—into her channel. She moans as she maneuvers the toy deeper, bending it to her liking.

When the dildo is placed, Missy falls forward, catching herself on one palm as she hovers over top of me. Her eyes are crescent blue moons. The rest of her body is sharp and dark and rough…but those eyes. There’s a deep, heart-wrenching affection in them. She’s drunk on my pleasure.

Seeing her this turned on by it makes me borderline frantic.

I grab her by the face and kiss her deeply, desperate to feel as much of her as humanly possible. My knees hook over her hips as she shifts between my legs. Then, there’s a hard bulge sliding up and down my slit, gathering moisture before pushing in. We both groan at the intense pressure. Her hips twitch and thrust, as desperate as I am.

I’d be okay if she decides to ruin me. I want her to.

Missy breaks our kiss and leans up, rolling her hips to push deeper inside of me. Her expression is hard as granite, focused . It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Her abdomen flexes with each thrust. Her tattooed skin shines with a thin layer of sweat. Her silver hair cascades over her shoulders and down her chest, her pink nipples barely peeking through.

My core trembles under the weight of my arousal.

“You want to see why this is my favorite toy?” she purrs. The sweetness of her voice is almost enough to do me in, but I hold out for her.

“Why?” I gasp.

She reaches between us, her fingers massaging my tight entrance. With a surge of power, the dildo starts vibrating. The rest of the world falls away. Our hips jerk and writhe together in a maddened, urgent race for release until I can’t hold on any longer. My body detonates.

“ Thank you ,” I rasp between the waves of pleasure.

The first peak is barely past when the friction of Missy’s pussy rubbing against mine is enough to push me over the edge again. I’m coming hard again, whispering my thanks and begging for mercy. I can’t handle much more. I’m going to combust in a fiery explosion of blood and stardust…or at least, that’s how I imagine death might look like in the North Pole.

Missy stiffens with a low moan, melting on top of me, and the toy falls still between us.

Santa kisses the soft skin beneath my ear and whispers, “The naughty list is wrong about you, precious. You’re such a good, good girl.”

After exhausting ourselves, we settle in under the blankets to rest, Missy’s body nestled against my side and her head on my chest.

I stare out the windows at the purple-tinted tundra.

“Does the sun ever rise here?” I wonder aloud. It should be the middle of the day right now, but the sky is pitch black.

“The sun will rise when the stars burst,” Missy replies, her voice small and lined with exhaustion, a stark contrast to the demanding vixen who rode me for the second time just minutes ago. “Christmas Day is a time for darkness, for rest.”

I run my fingers through her hair, appreciating how soft and silky the strands are. “I’m sad I won’t get to see it in the daylight.”

“Me too. At least you got to see it. Very few watchers ever do.”

Missy’s eyes glaze over as her mind wanders from our little cocoon in front of the fireplace. The turn in our conversation bothers her, and I can guess why. I’ve been piecing together the truth all night, and I think I finally have it figured out. She’s going to make me forget her somehow before sending me home. Jack Frost implied it. Auntie Mags too.

I can’t say I blame her for that decision. I’m only a watcher to Missy, even if she’s quickly becoming much more than Santa to me.

The truth isn’t enough to stop my falling for her. I’ll take whatever she offers me, even if my feelings have to be erased by morning. It was enough just to experience this. It was enough to live and love as deeply as I have tonight. And at least if my memories are taken, I won’t have to miss her. Just the thought of missing her for the rest of my life makes my eyes sting.

I duck my head to hide the tears and swirl my fingertips over Missy’s lower belly. Leaning in, I start trailing kisses down the column of her neck, letting the salt on her skin tingle across my tongue.

My affection drags her back to me. Our future is pushed away into the horizon.

Missy laughs, the twinkle of her voice flaming the fire in my belly. “Aren’t you tired, precious?”

“I still have one last thing I want to do before this day is over.”

Missy’s brows furrow in confusion, so I smile and turn so my body is hovering over hers, my face dropping to nuzzle her bare chest.

Parting my lips, I let my tongue slide over a plane of black ink on the outside of her breast, and then I pucker my lips and blow cool air on the damp skin. Her tattoo and the skin all around it erupts in goosebumps, and I lean forward to kiss it. “One,” I announce with a devious grin.

I move on to the tattoo next to the first and repeat my unhurried process. “Two.”

Missy face dissolves in pleasure as I travel lower, and she lets herself melt into the pillows as I kiss my way down her torso. Her little mewling sounds grow louder as I caress the insides of her thighs, as I kiss a constellation of stars on her hip. “ Eleven. Now, I need you to remember that number for me, Miss Claus.”

Her breathing is labored as she smirks down at me. “And why is that?”

I blow on the slick lips between her thighs, and her eyes flutter. “Because I’m going to lose myself in you now,” I inform her. “And I don’t know when I’m coming back.”