7. Noelle
noelle
. . .
S anta’s cock slides back into my mouth, and there’s a moment where I tense. My throat is tender from the way he mercilessly fucked it, but the taste of his leather boots, the taste of his lips, still coat my tongue, and I open wider. His fingers dig into my hair, gripping it in a tight fist. The garland shifts, rubbing the skin on my neck raw with each movement.
He gets to the back of my throat, and I brace myself. Slowly, he slides inside, and I swallow around him, trying to take as much of him as I can. I feel my throat stretch, feel it bulge, as he pushes deeper.
His dark eyes are on mine, and despite his words, or the sharp sting of his palm against my cheek, they’re soft. They’re warm. If I wasn’t already so obsessed with him, I’d fall for him right now—head over heels, without a second thought.
He’s as deep as he can go, and my lungs burn from the lack of air, and tears stream from my eyes. But he doesn’t care—I don’t care.
This is the most alive I’ve ever felt. It’s like I’m flying, like I’m watching everything from above like my own personal fucked up porno.
“I’m not going to stop until I feel like it,” he tells me, his voice a low rasp. “I don’t care if this hurts you—it feels good for me. And you’re here to serve me, to make me feel good. You’re nothing but a few holes for me to fuck and fill with my cum.”
My pussy contracts around the candy canes, and I subtly arch my hips, letting them slide deeper. I’ve found a rhythm that makes them move in short, slow thrusts, and it’s driving me fucking insane.
His hips snap forward, and I violently gag. A laugh tumbles from his lips at the sound, but it does nothing to make him slow down or stop. If anything, it just spurs him on even more. He fucks into my mouth, into my throat, in unrelenting thrusts.
“Stroke the rest of my cock,” he orders through clenched teeth. Reaching up, I wobble as I balance on one hand, and wrap the other around the inches of cock still free. He’s thicker than the candy canes inside me; I’d need at least ten more to come close to his full girth, but the stretch is still there. And, if I’m being totally honest, I’m excited to feel the way he’s going to stretch me.
I know it’ll be painful, but just the thought of his monster cock fucking me is enough to make my eyes roll back, and lower belly clench with anticipation.
“That’s it,” he praises, his fingers lightly tugging on my hair. “God, you look gorgeous like this.”
I believe him. The way he’s watching me, like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen, is a heady feeling. I’m high off his attention, off his approval, and I work harder to get more of it.
My mouth and hand work in tandem, making sure to give every inch of his dick love. A groan pushes from his lips, and his eyes squeeze shut.
“I can’t anymore,” he mutters, his jaw feathering. “I’m about to come, but I want to finish inside you.” Without warning, he pulls his cock free. I gasp for air, feeling it fill my burning lungs. “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”
“Yes.” I almost scream the word at him, because I am ready. I’m more than ready. I’ve been ready since the first time I saw him.
I gasp as he pulls the candy canes out of me. My fingers curl into the snow, and the tiny bits of plastic embed themselves under my nails. His boots thud against the floor at my side, his pants and shirt quickly following. It takes all I have not to peek over my shoulder and stare at his naked body.
Instead, I’m left to stare straight ahead, the hallways leading toward different stores stretching out before us. I almost want the guards I know are somewhere in the massive building to find us, to stand at the edge of The Village and stroke their cocks while this massive man fucks me raw from behind.
I want them to get off to me—to us—and know they can never have me. That they can’t touch me. I want Robbie to watch, desperate for relief, but to know that I belong to the man inside me—not him. I never did, and I never will.
“Deep breaths, baby.”
He places his big hand on my hip, his thumb gently stroking back and forth. It soothes me enough to force air into my lungs, and when I feel the thick tip of his cock press against my entrance, my entire body goes rigid.
“Relax for me,” he coos. “You can take it. I promise.”
Another deep breath.
I squeeze my eyes shut as he pushes inside me. My pussy stretches around him, and there’s a sharp, stinging bite of pain, but I force myself to breathe through it. To stay calm. To not jerk forward.
As if reading my thoughts, both of his hands drop to my hips, his fingers curling around and digging into my hip bones. His grip is brutal, almost bruising, as he keeps me in place.
“You’re going to take my fucking cock,” he grits out, slowly driving even deeper. I cry out, the garland around my neck rubbing the skin raw as I toss my head back and forth.
“It’s too much,” I whine, but he ignores me.
“Take. It.” His voice comes out like a low growl, bordering on inhuman. My mouth falls open as I pant through the pain—this is so much worse than I thought it would be. He’s so much bigger.
Suddenly, he pulls back until he’s almost completely out. I feel weirdly empty, and as I’m about to beg him to fill me again, he slams forward. He rams against my cervix, and pain erupts through my body, a scream tearing from my throat.
“Oh, fuck!” I cry, tears blurring my vision.
He smooths his hand over my back until he gets to the makeshift leash around my throat. He gently wraps his fingers around it, tugging lightly on it until I choke out a breath.
“Are you okay?” he murmurs. I barely dip my chin in a nod, though I know it’s not reassuring. All I can focus on is the throbbing in my pussy.
“Fine,” I gasp. “Fine. I’m fine. Keep going.”
There’s a brief moment of hesitation before he grips the garland leash tighter in his fist. He holds it as he moves his hips back. I brace myself for the brutal snap forward, but he goes slow this time—gentle.
I shake my head. It hurt, but I need the pain. That’s the only way I’ll get off.
“Hurt me,” I breathe. “Fuck me like you hate me.”
“Are you sure?” The softness in his voice, the edge of warmth, makes my heart flutter. I swallow thickly, still tasting his cock on my tongue.
“I’m sure.”
He moves around behind me, and I finally look over my shoulder at him. There’s a dark smattering of hair across his chest and lightly on his belly, slightly rounded and hiding a layer of abs beneath. He has silver bars in both nipples, and a tattoo snaking from his chest, to his shoulder, and down his arm, stopping above his elbow.
My mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous, like a fucking god, and I want to worship at his altar. I want to lick every inch of his big body and show him how much I love him—I squeeze my eyes shut as soon as the word echoes through my head.
That is insane. I cannot be in love with him, but…
I watch as he reaches over and yanks a plastic candy cane from the ground beside us. They’re used to line the walkway toward his sleigh, and I have no idea what he’s about to do with it.
But then he turns toward me, a glint in his eye that tells me I should be scared, and smiles. He leans forward and drops spit on my asshole. My eyes widen as he positions the plastic candy cane at my back entrance, keeping his cock buried deep.
“You asked for this,” he says darkly, and I swallow thickly because he’s right.
I did ask for this.