Page 15 of Santa & His Elf
Sleep.
Finally.
four
?. . .?
Walkingaround the third floor of my workshop, I stop at each toy station to inspect the beautiful craftsmanship of my elves. I’ve been slacking in this department since I took over for my father. Now that Pepper and I have sorted out our issues and set a schedule to make our lives less chaotic, I’m practically floating on air as I pat Juno, a miniature dollhouse painter, on the shoulder and move on to the next station.
“What do we have here, Harriet?” Standing behind her chair, I gesture to the glowing sewing machine and the bolts of fabric she magically cuts and sews with her special elf talent. It’s such a delight to watch. I remember spending hours here as a child, wishing I had any of their gifts. Until I took over as Santa, I was only able to wield the slightest magic for a few measly seconds.
“It’s good to see you, Santa. I’ve been waiting for you to visit.” Harriet smiles up at me with red hair, honey eyes, and pointed ears, not looking a day over twenty. “Would you like to try this time?” Sliding out of her small seat, she scoots it to the side to give me space to work.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you.” I wink as I kneel in front of her sewing table and watch the shimmery magic of the North Pole float across the ceiling of the workshop. As the children of our world continue to believe in me, their special magic is the fuel the elves use to craft the toys I deliver on Christmas Eve.
Breathing out, I focus just as Harriet taught me when I was a boy, reach out for a colorful strand of magic with my mind, and use my finger to coax it to me from the ceiling. A bright red streak slashes through the air like a lightning bolt and zaps the tip of my finger so hard I fall back on my ass. “Whoa.”
Harriet giggles and helps me up as warm and powerful magic pulses through my body. The veins in my arms glow red, and my heart feels extra full… almost heavy, like it’s wrapped in a weighted blanket. I look to Harriet in surprise, help, I don’t know what, this has never happened before, and she smiles in that sweet, patient way she always has. “You’ve got this. Go on. You’re Santa now,” she cajoles, like I’m the same five-year-old who used to sit on her lap and watch her sew for hours.
Nodding dumbly, I rub the tips of my fingers together, and red arcs of Christmas magic spark between the pads. It's a color I’ve never seen the elves’ harness before. “Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself as I focus on Harriet’s station. With a sweep of my wrist and sharp focus, I unroll a bolt of shiny pink fabric from her stash, cut it with magic, and feed it into the machine. Calibrated to whatever Harriet set the device to this morning, it follows my lead and cuts and sews, cuts and sews, cuts and sews, popping out one doll dress after the next into a woven basket beside the table.
One basket turns into two as Harriet swaps them out.Once the bolt is done, I move on to a shiny purple fabric. My cheeks heat. Sweat beads on my brow as my heart hammers in time with whatever holiday tune plays over the speakers. I’m in the zone, and I can’t stop smiling. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe this is possible.
Too focused on the task, I don’t notice the large crowd of elves I’ve drawn to the station until a familiar, concerned voice cuts into my conscience. “Nick.” Pepper touches my shoulder. The familiar jolt of our connection flows like melted chocolate into my veins, and I grow instantly hard as the lightning in my body crackles and a red burst of magic flies back toward the ceiling. The glow in my forearms diminishes as I turn to face my partner, my elf.
Not caring that everyone’s watching, Pepper cups my sweaty cheek. “That’s enough playing with magic today, Santa. I’ve had lunch brought to your office.”
Panting from both the power and his touch, I don’t say a thing as I clamber up from the floor in my black sweats and t-shirt. Like a dog on a leash, I follow my vanilla-scented husband across the third floor to Santa’s elevator.
Once inside, the doors chime closed. “Welcome back, Santa and head elf,” it greets, and I don’t wait for the thing to hit our floor before I’m on him. Grabbing Pepper by the waist, I shuck his pants to the ground, exposing a rosy erection just for me. He cries out in desperation as I drop my sweats to my knees, pick him up, and slam his back against the candy cane wallpapered elevator wall.
Not missing a beat, his legs wrap around my waist, and I’m there within seconds, fucking his wet, needy hole. This is why we can’t be around each other. This is why we have rules. This is why we have a schedule. Damn him. He wasn’t supposed to interrupt me today. We’ve done well all week.Only fucking like rabbits over dinner and then in the shower and before bed. We’ve been good.
Smashing my lips to his, he whines into the kiss as I rut him like a starved man. “I fuckin’ hate that you do this to me,” I growl.
Far too quickly, the elevator chimes to our level. “You have arrived,” an automated voice says as the doors open.
“I’m sorry,” he cries as I break our kiss, and I shuffle to my office, trying not to fall with my pants still stuck around my legs.
Twisting the knob, I throw it open and walk Pepper over to my tidy desk, courtesy of him. “You’re too damn good for me.” I peck his lips as I settle his bottom on the cool, wooden ledge. He yelps on contact, but that pretty little cock doesn’t flag. It never does. Not for me.
Relaxing on the edge, Pepper releases my neck and lies back. I shuck his shirt up his perfect stomach to his nipples. He points over to the hot chocolate bar. “Whenever we’re done, there’s lunch.”
I grunt.
Nobody needs food when you’ve got this body to feast on.
I don’t know what I did for the tree to gift me such a perfect partner, but I can’t get enough of him. Ever.
Fisting Pepper’s cock, I jack my elf off, slow, in time with my deep thrusts. I take my time. I force him to wait.
“You interrupted me today, you naughty elf,” I torment, loving the tight squeeze of his hole around my shaft. He grips his hair, and his mouth rounds. A symphony of delirious moans fills the air.
“Why did you do that?” I squeeze his sopping-wet cockhead.
Pepper’s body bows off the desk, and he screams, but he doesn’t come because he can’t, not without my say-so. We promised to give each other space. We promised not to get in each other’s way. Not until this need wore off. Or we’d be doing what we’re doing right now, every day, all day long. Just being around him leaves me rock-hard, no matter how many times I’ve orgasmed.
“Answer me,” I demand, slamming to the hilt and stilling there, despite my need to fill him.
