5. Christmas Eve
CHAPTER 5
CHRISTMAS EVE
F or a split second there, I’m sure he’s going to refuse. After spending centuries by himself in the woods, he’s probably not bold enough to put on a shower in front of a woman he just met—and my libido is pretty damn happy to be proven wrong when Ruprecht swallows roughly, then pushes his seat away from the table before standing up.
He doesn’t leave. Instead, he moves around so that he’s standing a few feet away from my seat.
I’m still sitting. With his height and my position, his cock is about eye-level with me and, holy shit, it’s perfect .
Ruprecht’s linen pants are bunched up around his muscular thighs, but with more of him on display than before, I see why his pants are made of a loose linen material. They managed to cover the patches of fur that decorate his hips while also giving that trouser snake of his some room to move.
I don’t know what he looks like soft since he’s already completely hard, but his erection is a good eight inches from root to tip. On the cusp of more than I can comfortably take, but not quite there yet. I was worried that, with his height and bulk, he’d be packing ten inches at least, and I’m so glad he isn’t.
And if I shouldn’t be mentally fitting Krampus’s dick inside of me as he goes back to stroking himself off? Oh, well. A girl can dream, and it’s not like—after Christmas—I’m ever going to see him again. This could just be a one-night-stand to remember. One to take to my grave, too.
Can you imagine? Coming back from my Christmas ‘vacation’ and telling Ang that I fucked a Christmas demon? Yeah, right. Even if Ruprecht isn’t interested in doing that, I’m watching him work his cock expertly—and I won’t be able to confess to this, either.
It’s a naughty little secret for the both of us.
I’m not really sure what he meant before when he said that I’m the reason his body reacts. That it’s the first time it has. My initial instinct was that he was confession to never having gotten hard before. I just… that can’t be the case. Unless he was up and outside in the snow every ten minutes to rub one out while I was sleeping, blissfully unaware of what he was doing, he seems to know exactly how to handle his cock.
He’s panting softly, muttering in that Germanic language again as he plants his hooves on the floor of his kitchen. Spreading his legs just enough to get purchase, I see another benefit to the linen. It allows him to position himself wider, giving a front row seat to him stroking, twisting, and tugging on his cock.
He has no pubic hair; no fur there, either. There is nothing to stop me from watching as his sac tightens, his cock turned red as all the blood rushes to the head before he throws back his head and, with a roar, shoots a load of creamy, milky jizz onto his hand and the floor at my feet.
The big demon shudders until he’s released every last drop. I’m not so surprised that he produces a lot more semen than a human guy, or that it’s thicker and more substantive. But when a familiar scent reaches me almost immediately, and it isn’t salty, musky spunk, I cock my head.
Taking a deep sniff, I’m almost positive I know what that smell is. But I can’t stop myself from asking, “Is that peppermint?”
Ruprecht’s gold eyes—gleaming so brightly a moment ago—seem to darken just a little. “Sometimes the tethers get crossed. Since I met you, everything comes out like peppermint.”
Okay. I’m only human. I’d only just been able to keep from drooling at the thought of dabbing my tongue along the thick vein in his cock while he was touching himself. But for him to tell me that his jizz is peppermint?
“Can I try?”
His eyes flare up, brightening the hollows of his face. “You want to?”
Yes . “I nod.”
He offers me his hand. “You can take it from here, if you like.”
Never in a million years would I ever expect to be licking come from any guy’s hand. But a Christmas demon? I almost agree.
The only reason I don’t? Is because I’d much prefer it from the source.
So I shake my head. “No. Not like that.”
Ruprecht frowns.
Oh, jeez. It’s almost a little embarrassing, how desperate I am, but I’ve never been the type of chick who shies away from what she wants.
And right now? I want him .
“If it’s okay with you, I’d rather taste it from the source.”
As if responding to my offer, his cock twitches. And though it was limp after he was spent barely a couple of minutes ago, that sucker starts to harden right before my eyes. In no time, his cock is pointing straight toward the thatched ceiling, ready and raring to go again.
You know what? If that’s how fast his refractory period is, he really might have gone out to jerk off at least ten times last night…
However, instead of moving toward me eagerly like some other guys would have, feeding their cocks between my lips so I can begin to suck, Ruprecht gestures toward the table. As if on cue, the tea in my mug starts steaming again.
More magic, I’m guessing, and a fresh cup of truth serum.
“Have some more tea, liebling,” he rumbles.
The tea will tell him the truth. I might as well, otherwise the big demon will doubt how much I really want to get a taste.
So I take a sip, enjoying the warmth as it trickles down my throat, then place the cup back down. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to suck your dick now.”
Holy shit, Josie. I knew that tea made everything I say be the truth, but there’s being honest and there’s just blurting out your innermost thoughts! Like, really? Down, girl. You might just scare him away with how forward and eager you are?—
Ruprecht reaches out a claw, stroking my jaw. “It would be my honor. Come. Let’s go to the bed.”
Um. Yes, please.
The demon waits for me to push my own chair away before laying one hand on my bare shoulder. An electric spark passes between us when our skin connects, but a sideways glance up at Ruprecht doesn’t give any sign that he felt it through the callus on his palm.
Instead, he’s watching the bed approach with a curiously unblinking stare as he shuffles us toward; the linen pants still bunched around his thighs no trouble at all for him. Then, when we’re standing next to it, he grips me by the waist—instinctively avoiding my hip—before depositing me and my big floofy gown on the edge.
Once again, it’s the perfect angle. I’m sitting, taking pressure off my bad hip, while he moves until his shins are pressed to the edge of the mattress. With his height, his cock hits my chin. I duck it, bring my lips to the crown, and dab my tongue along the slit I find there.
I don’t expect him to be like fucking dairy cow. I didn’t think I’d open his mouth, he’d slip his cock inside and, seconds later, he’d fill it with peppermint come. I’ll have to work to bring him some release—and I’m looking forward to it.
I already get a hint of mint when I suck him into my mouth. My hands are on his hipes, digging past the incredibly soft fur I find there, but my attention is entirely on the thick cock that’s stretching my mouth out. I use a little of my teeth to keep him in place, pinning him a little so that I’m not gagging on him. Instead, I use my tongue to swirl around the head, lapping at the sides of his shaft, enjoying the tiny taste of sweetness that is just different enough from the tea that I know it’s Ruprecht .
Still clutching one hip, as he starts to buck a little, I use my free hand to grab him by the base of his cock. That way I can bob my head a little, sucking him, blowing him while he threads his claws through my hair, whispering my name into the crackle of the fire.
When his movements become a little more frantic, his whispers more pleading, I know he’s gotta be close. Usually, that’s my signal to dip out. I’ve always been a spit girl if my timing was off, but if I caught onto my lover’s habits in time? They can go off on the floor instead of in—or on—me.
But Ruprecht… I tighten my hold, sealing my lips around the head of his cock as he shoots his load into my waiting mouth.
The first thing I notice is that it’s actually kind of cool. Temperature-wise, I mean. It’s far cooler than his body temp, but between its chilliness and the viscosity, it reminds me of a milkshake.
The peppermint flavor comes a second later and I instantly know that I could get used to why.
I swear, it’s the best peppermint I’ve ever had—and it came from Krampus’s cock.
You’d think it would be kinda awkward after that. I mean, I just met this guy, and I was real quick to take his dick into my mouth.
But, really? It was peppermint! It’s Christmas! Well, Christmas Eve, but can you blame me? I had this nutty fruitcake and mint tea for breakfast, the most delicious peppermint ‘milk’shake for dessert, and the lit candles throwing cozy shadows around while also highlighting Ruprecht’s Christmas tree had put me in the holiday spirit for the first time in a long while.
If I’m in a curiously good mood, that’s nothing compared to the demon. He thanks me as I let his spent cock slip from between my lips, but if he starts to get hard again, I can’t tell. He pulls on his linen pants, then invites me back to the kitchen to join him at his table.
Probably a good idea to stay away from the bed, I think, considering I was ready to invite him to join me there. Instead, I follow him into the kitchen, and then follow his lead in not mentioning what just happened at all.
Now that I know he’s Krampus, he tells me details of his legend instead. How he’s central European-based, and he got the name of his demon from the German word for claw: krampen . I pointedly dance around the topic when it comes to just how he punishes the naughty children in his sock, ignoring the chains and the birch rod he has mounted over the wall in the bed area. Instead, he tells me about the gifts he leaves for the good children instead if they leave their shoes out during Krampusnacht.
Really, he adds with a hint of annoyance, it’s for the Feast of Saint Nicholas, but as Krampus, it’s his job to reward the good kids, punish the bad, and stroll the world on the night of December 5th while Saint Nicholas prepares for his Christmas Eve ride.
After that, he changes the subject to ask about me. Of course, I find the first excuse to change the subject back—and I find it when I notice that he hasn’t touched any of the roast and red cabbage that he conjured us up for Christmas Eve lunch.
Though I wasn’t sure I’d like it, I tried it as his insistence. It was pretty good, and my plate is basically empty.
His isn’t.
I point at it. “What’s the matter? Not hungry?”
I remember at the last minute that, despite the tea not working on him, Ruprecht promised that he would be honest with me. And, like I’ve been—tea or no tea—his version of ‘honesty’ means telling me things bluntly that I never was expecting…
Meeting my curious gaze from across the table, he looks at me and says, “When I can only think of what your taste might be, I fear I’ve lost my appetite for anything else.”
Oh.
Oh .
I swallow. In the old legends of Krampus, I ready that some bad kids get eaten . When I applied to be allowed in Blackmoor, the council made it very, very clear that the monsters in the woods would find a human woman little more than a snack.
But when he says that? I know exactly what he means.
And, suddenly, I want to know what his pointed tongue feels like almost as much as I was curious about the peppermint.
“Okay,” I say simply. “So… back to the bed?”
Ruprecht’s whole body goes tight. “Josie?”
“I mean, there’s still food on the table. With your magic, I’m sure you can poof it away, but since you seem like the type of guy… demon… to take his time, it’ll probably be more comfy for me to lay down on the bed. What do you think?”
He works his jaw, his beard swaying with the motion. And then… “Do you want me to taste you?”
Do I want him to go down on me?
“I’m willing if you are.” I get up, just so he knows that I’m willing now . Since he’s not saying anything, I’ll choose the bed, and if he doesn’t want to pleasure me… well, I’ve got fingers and the sudden need to get a little relief of my own.
Luckily, I don’t need to use them. Before I know it, he’s used his big body to herd me back to the bed, kissing me quickly, doing something so incredibly amazing with his tongue that I can’t help but think of it as a promise of what’s to come before I’m on my back, Ruprecht hovering over me.
“Stay there, liebling,” he growls, his eyes bleeding to red again. “Let me retrieve the chains.”
Uh. “Why exactly do you need chains?”
At this point, I’m assuming Ruprecht has never had his mouth on a woman before; at least, not a human one. Maybe he doesn’t know that chains aren’t usually a part of oral, but I’d happy to educate him in all ways of pleasuring Jose Butler.
Then again, maybe he’s ready to school me.
“I will be distracted with your cunt. I won’t let anyone steal you from me. So if this is not what you want, tell me now. Because, to taste you so completely, I must do this.” The chains appear between his claws as if by… oh, yeah, magic . “You can trust me, Josie.”
Am I insane for believing that I can ?
I lick my lips, then hold my hands out for the shackles. “Okay.”
He’s a damn pro. I blink and my wrists are covered. Fur is slipped between my skin and the metal like before, and this close, I can tell it’s come from Ruprecht’s own tufts. It’s soft and secure and, as he reaches up to connect the chains to the ceiling, I’m even more aroused by how I’m laid out like a Christmas gift for Krampus.
Once he has me where I want him, Ruprecht shoves my gown up until everything below my belly button is bare to him.
I don’t have any panties on. That was something else the council insisted on, and since I figured it would be better to go three days without rather than the amount of bacteria that can build up without changing them, I’ve been commando since I walked into the woods.
Ruprecht lets out a small sound of amazement, and before I can kind of give him a little nudge toward what I expect from him, the big guy just dives fucking in.
Almost instantly, I want to pat myself on the back for this idea. Because that tongue… oh, that tongue.
“You taste even better than oranges, liebling,” he rumbles when he finally breaks for some air, the slight vibration sending shockwaves through my ravaged pussy. “I could feast on your juices ‘til the end of my days.”
Wow. What a compliment. He’s an immortal demon who can conjure meals with a snap of his claws, and he would choose me ?
Only… we don’t have until the end of his days. We have now , and as if he realizes that at the same time as I do, he starts to lick me as if he’s already running out of minutes.
As though he’s needs to get impossibly closer, burying his entire face against my pussy, he lays his hand on my upper thigh, pushing me against the bed as his claws start to roam.
No matter how good it feels, I’ve suffered from chronic pain for seven years. It’s instinctual that, between my gasps and moans, I tell him, “Be careful of my hip.”
I’m so used to making that warning that it comes out without me even thinking about it. I always want to make sure that my lovers are mindful that they don’t cause me any more pain—or find out before we do the deed that they found the scars distasteful.
Their loss, and I’m really hoping that Krampus isn’t as superficial as idiot human guys.
He doesn’t say anything about the scars, though. I know they’re not the most attractive. They don’t bother me, though, because they’re proof that I can survive anything if I put my mind to it. Before I can clench up and wonder if they bother him, my demon runs the length of his tongue along the thickest scar. It’s a sweet gesture, almost as if he’s showing me that he enjoys every part of me when?—
“ Oh .”
My pain is gone.
“Does that please you, Josie?”
I writhe on the bed as his warm breath washes over my sensitized flesh. “Yes. But you know what would please me more, R?”
“Tell me. I’ll do anything.”
Do you know how many guys have told me the same kind of line just to get me into their bed? Too many to count, but I’m already hear—and, for some reason, I actually believe that Ruprecht means it.
“Then finish what you started, okay? My hip feels great, but that tongue of yours… I need it on my pussy.”
“ Ich schenke dir alles .”
I don’t know what he said, but since he goes right back to fucking me with his tongue, I could give a shit.
I do giggle, though, as he single-mindedly devotes himself to giving me more pleasure than I’ve ever had. Even if it’s only while he’s touching me, for the first time in years, there isn’t the slightest twinge of pain. It’s just pleasure, and that makes me giddy as I confess to him, “That tickles.”
It more than tickles. Between his beard brushing my sensitive inner thighs, plus the points of his claws trailing down the outside…. and , God, how he can work that pointed tongue as he dips it in and out of me… it feels amazing .
He lifts his head just enough to meet my eyes. His are red, but I’m not afraid of him. I’m actually carenning toward a climax, and the hungry expression on his face as me clenching my pussy, wishing I had something to hold onto.
Even if it’s his tongue again, I need something?—
“Please. Please .”
“I exist for your pleasure, my Josie. Only yours. And for as long as I have you, I will grant it.”
Yeah, yeah. We both know that this can’t last. That this isn’t forever. But if he doesn’t give me just a little something extra to get me off… my begging might just turn to screams.
And then he lowers his head again, using the point of his tongue to flick my clit, sending me over, I do scream.
That’s not all, either. As the chains keep me in place so I can’t do anything but ride his face as he pulls my orgasm out of me, all I can think is this: Ruprecht tastes like peppermint and killed my pain more effectively than morphine could. I could totally get addicted to him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows it.
However, as I’m coming down from my orgasm, Ruprecht reaches above me. Like he did this morning, he removes the chain from the hook, then undoes the shackles, leaving me free again.
After busying himself with hanging them back on the wall, he turns and takes a firm step toward the kitchen.
Yeah, no. That’s not going to work for me.
“Where are you going now? Here. Join me in bed,” I say boldly. I don’t have the energy to get up and follow him—not when I might be conserving it for something else—but at the very least, he can lay down next to me. “There’s more than enough room.”
“Josie…”
“If you don’t believe that I want you to lay with me instead of watching me from the fireplace, brew some more tea.”
Ruprecht shakes his head. “You honored me by letting me know your taste. The tea might have the effect of loosening your tongue and telling me all I want to know about you, but I don’t want that to be the reason you share anything with me. And when you do? I will believe you because you are my Josie, and you are good .”
Ruprecht might think I am. For the most part, I agree. But, after the way he just worshiped my pussy with his mouth, then tended to my hip as if every part of me was precious to him… I’m feeling very naughty about now.
“So do you believe me when I say that I’d like it is you joined me in bed tonight?”
His brow furrows. “To sleep?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Eventually.”
He sucks in a breath. “To mate ?”
My heart skips a beat. The way his voice got so deliciously low… “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“Oh, liebling… I’ve waited lifetimes for such an offer from my mate. And to know that it’s you… you honor me again.”
Screw honor. The demon tastes like peppermint, has a nice, thick dick, and I only have two more days to let loose my own freaky side with Krampus before I have to go.
“Here. I can get out of this heavy dress. You’re naked. I can be naked, too.”
I start to reach behind me, looking for the fastens that Sandra did up to get me in this gown. “Even if we just sleep, I kind of want to feel your body next to me.”
Ruprecht holds up his hand, the firelight winking off of his claws.
The claws should be a major turn-off, and I don’t know what it says about me that they’re not.
“Please. Leave the gold on.”
The gold? He must mean the dress. My stomach sinks a little. After how easily I found his strange demon form surprisingly attractive—his horns, those claws, even his soft patches of fur—it’s a little disheartening to think that Ruprecht is repulsed by my female human body.
“You don’t want me to be naked?”
He makes a guttural sound, deep in his chest. “Ah, Josie. To see your bare beauty in the candlelight… I can’t imagine a lovelier vision. But the gold against your skin… it sparkles and shines, and is a reminder to my demon side that you truly are a gift to me.”
I’m confused. “You mean like wrapping paper?”
Ruprecht nods. “Something like that, ja.”
“But the best part of having a gift is unwrapping it, R.”
“Perhaps,” he agrees. “But if you make this concession for me this Christmas Eve, I will sleep by your side. I will hold you in my arms, and if you still choose to take my schwanz inside of you in the morning, I will take you as my greatest present.”
Okay. If I’m understanding him correctly, he’s giving me the night to change my mind about propositioning him. If I’m still horny and ready ride him on Christmas Day, he’ll fuck me.
As long as ‘schwanz’ means what I think it means.
“Schwanz?” I repeat. “You’re talking about, like, your dick, right? Your cock? Not you sticking your horns inside my vagina or anything like that, huh?”
“This is my schwanz,” he says. “Though I already consider it yours.”
Ruprecht drops his hand to his groin, leisurely stroking his erection; he’s been hard all along, as though I didn’t already suck his come down like it was a damn peppermint milkshake. All the more reason for him to see if the two of us will fit, but I’m a firm believer in consent.
A no is a no, and a ‘tomorrow morning’ is a ‘tomorrow morning’.
Wow. Look at that. For the first time since I was probably ten-years-old, I’m looking forward to Christmas morning. And if it’s anything like those childhood years, the anticipation is going to make the rest of Christmas Eve seem like it takes forever.
At least, that’s what I think. But after Ruprecht rewards me by stroking himself to completion while I eagerly watch before letting me lick the peppermint from his big hand, having his warmth cocooning me in his bed is all I need to fall asleep peacefully.
Instead of dreaming of sugar plum fairies and presents under the tree, I content myself with dirty visions of Krampus’s naked body, the way he used those chains to keep my still as he fucked me with his tongue, and how amazing it’s going to feel on Christmas when I find out what demon schwanz is like…