Chapter 18 Simone #2
"Removing a—" I cut myself off, a disbelieving laugh escaping me. "He was drunk and rude, not summoning demons! The situation was under control!"
"He put his hands on you." Krampus's voice dropped. "What did you want me to do?"
"I wanted you to trust me!" The words erupted from somewhere deep and tender inside me. My chest heaved with each breath, my heart pounding visibly at my throat. "I need…I need you to trust me, to trust my little family if you want to be apart of it."
"I trust you," he said finally, his voice softer but no less intense. "I trust you with my cafe, customers, my staff, and my heart you stubborn little monster."
The simple answer knocked the air from my lungs more effectively than the ogre's shove had.
The fury drained from me, leaving something else in its wake, a trembling, vulnerable awareness of how much power this creature had over me.
And how much I might have over him, if the intensity in his eyes was any indication.
Krampus moved toward me, I held my ground, chin tilted up, refusing to retreat despite the part of my brain screaming that being cornered by a predator was a very bad idea.
My back hit the counter edge as Krampus caged me in, his claws came down on either side of my hips.
He leaned in until his face was inches from mine, his breath carrying notes of smoke and winter pine.
"You think I don't trust you?" He leaned in close. "You are mine, and I will always protect what is mine."
I sucked in a sharp breath, my hands braced against the cool counter edge to keep from reaching for him. "I'm not yours," I challenged.
His eyes darkened as he tracked the movement. One claw traced the air just above my collarbone, not making contact but close enough that I could feel the potential of his touch.
"Liar," he growled against my ear.
My heart hammered against my ribs, pulse points throbbing at my wrists, my throat, between my thighs. The fight hadn't left me, I still believed what I'd said about him not trusting me, but it had transformed into something equally potent, equally demanding.
Want.
Raw and unapologetic want that had been building since I'd walked out of his apartment this morning. Since I'd realized in the park that I deserved this, deserved him, deserved everything.
"I'm still mad at you," I managed, even as my body arched toward his.
His fangs flashed in what might have been a smile. "Good. Be mad. Be furious." His hand finally made contact, cupping my cheek. "I like seeing you express your emotions."
The touch broke something loose inside me. I surged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt using it as leverage to pull myself closer to him.
"I want you," I whispered against his mouth. "I want you to see me as an equal."
His eyes locked with mine. "I see you, little star. I've always seen you."
Then his mouth was on mine, and there was no more room for words.
The kiss wasn't gentle. His fangs nipped at my lower lip, the slight sting making me gasp and giving his tongue entry.
I kissed him back with equal fervor, years of repressed want and days of intense connection pouring into the contact.
My hands found his horns, fingers wrapping around the smooth, curved surfaces that radiated heat like banked coals.
He growled into my mouth, the vibration traveling through my body.
In one fluid motion, he lifted me onto the counter, my back hitting bags of flour that exploded in white puffs around us.
His hands gripped my thighs, spreading them so he could stand between them.
The heat of him pressed against my center, only layers of fabric separating us.
"Should have taken you that first day," he murmured against my throat, fangs grazing the sensitive skin. "The moment you stood up to me in that ridiculous pink dress."
My laugh came out as a breathless gasp. "My dresses are not ridiculous."
His claws hooked into the waistband of panties, tugging insistently. "Lift."
I raised my hips, allowing him to pull the fabric down just enough to expose me. The cool air against me made me shiver, awareness of where we were, the pastry kitchen, for gods' sake, briefly cutting through the haze of desire.
"Someone could walk in," I whispered, even as my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.
"Let them." His claws traced the seam where my thigh met my hip, dangerously close to where I needed him most. "Let them see who you belong to."
I arched into his touch, my head falling back as his fingers finally found my center. He hissed in satisfaction at the wetness he found there, evidence of how much I wanted this despite my protests.
"So ready," he murmured, sliding one thick finger inside me. "So perfect for me."
My hips bucked against his hand, seeking more. "Please—"
The word had barely left my lips before he was undoing his pants, freeing himself with an urgency that matched my own.
"Look at me," he commanded.
I did, meeting his gaze as he pushed into me in one powerful thrust that stretched me to the point of exquisite fullness. My mouth fell open in a silent cry, fingers scrambling for purchase and finding his horns again.
He snarled as I gripped them. The counter edge dug into my thighs as he established a relentless rhythm, each thrust pushing me back against bags of flour that continued to burst around us in white clouds.
"Mine," he growled against my neck, one hand tangling in my curls to tilt my head back, exposing my throat to his mouth. "Say it."
"No," I gasped, defiance flaring even as pleasure built inside me. I tightened my grip on his horns, using them as leverage to meet each powerful thrust. "You're mine."
His rhythm faltered for just a moment, surprise flashing across his features before his eyes darkened with something like wonder. Then he redoubled his efforts, one hand slipping between us to find the bundle of nerves that would send me over the edge.
"Both," he conceded, his thumb circling my clit with devastating precision. "We belong to each other."
The admission, coupled with the dual stimulation, was too much.
I came hard, my body arching against his as waves of pleasure crashed through me.
My inner walls clenched around him in rhythmic pulses, drawing him deeper, claiming him just as surely as he claimed me.
His name fell from my lips over and over.
He followed me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips pressing flush against mine as he spilled inside me. His forehead dropped to rest against mine, our breath mingling in the scant space between us as we both struggled to regain control.
For several heartbeats, we stayed like that, connected, breathing the same air, covered in flour dust that settled on our skin like the strangest afterglow. His hand came up to cup my cheek again, thumb brushing away a smear of white powder.
"I do trust you," he murmured, the admission clearly difficult for a being accustomed to commanding rather than explaining. "But seeing you hurt—"
"I know," I interrupted, surprising myself with how much I meant it. His reaction hadn't been about doubting my capabilities. It had been about seeing someone he cared for in danger. The realization softened something in my chest, a knot of resentment unraveling.
I laid my head against his chest, hearing the steady thump of his heart beneath my ear. His arms wrapped around me, powerful and protective, but no longer feeling like a cage. We fit together, two puzzle pieces with edges worn smooth by time and arguments and understanding.
"What did I say about substances on my counters!" Silas's outraged voice shattered the moment, making both of us jump. "Get out here and clean this shit up! There better not be literal semen on my flour bags!"
I buried my face against Krampus's chest, laughter bubbling up inside me. His answering chuckle rumbled around us.
"Your demon baker has the worst timing," he murmured against my hair.
"Or the best," I countered, thinking of the conversation we needed to finish. The party tomorrow. The manager position. The future stretching before us, complicated and messy and full of possibility.
For now, though, I just leaned into his embrace, savoring the feeling of being exactly where I belonged.