When he splits his tongue into hairline threads to tease my areola in thin, spiraling movements, I buck against his face—wiping my center against his face.
That tongue retreats.
“No!” I wail.
“My greedy girl…” he chuckles darkly. “So naughty rubbing your sloppy, sweet pussy all over my face.” He kisses my outer lips, and I whimper and roll my hips, needing more.
“Please, Krampus, for the love of Hel, I need-I need?—”
“Tell me how much your wet, sloppy cunt needs my cock fucking it until you scream my name in every carol known to mankind.”
Hot tears stream down my cheeks. When I feel his groan against my pussy but not his tongue, I lift my hands to grip his horns until I’m bucking and riding his face.
“I need you, Krampus. Every part of you. Your mouth, your tongue, your horns, your body, your gods-damned gorgeous cock with all its eggnog, and your heart!”
Chapter 20
After all, Krampus gives far better presents than Santa
TWYLA
The clips snap, dropping from my nipples and tumbling to clatter on the floor. Cold air hits them. And in one skilled move of ferocious grace, Krampus coils two extensions of his wet, heated tongue around them…and tugs!
Moaning and sobbing, I thrust my center against his face again. This time, he buries his mouth inside me, sealing to my soaked heat while I drip my wetness all over him. Those tongue extensions circle my nipples, rasping their coarse surface and tickling threads to stimulate the reddened buds and tug on that invisible thread that goes straight to my clit.
His tongue splits again. And I scream through clenched teeth as one extension plunges into my slit to tongue and lash at my spongy, slippery flesh while the other works my clit back and forth, turning it into his fleshy, wet bell.
Then, his hand slides cunningly to push the candy cane deeper.
I explode. Every inner muscle convulses with seismic activity that could rival a volcanic eruption. Flames and fireworks, shooting stars and galaxies, rocket through every nerve ending and rip an inferno through my blood, lighting up my reward center like lightning striking the brightest and greatest Christmas tree of all time!
“KRAMPUS!” I scream, gripping his horns until my knuckles whiten and calluses form as I soar over the edge and ride out my pleasure on his face with that ‘gods’ gift to this woman’s tongue licking my tits and clit to his kingdom come.
I’m still gasping and screaming when he lowers my legs to his waist and cocks his head to study me. I’m utterly undone. My legs shake and shudder from the orgasmic tremors. So grateful he’s holding me up.
I suck in a sharp inhale, blinking past the film glistening my eyes from how long I’ve stared at him. We hover here. Our heavy breaths marrying one another. Then, he closes in and crushes my lips in a scorching kiss. He plunders my mouth with the same ferocity that he did to my pussy.
He pauses to gaze at me, his jaw like steel, a muscle bouncing there. Another searing kiss to my swollen lips, but his eyes don’t stray from mine. Those pupils dilate instead.
Oh, I moan into his mouth, which overthrows mine every time. All the muscles in his shoulders and throat flex when I coil my arms around his neck, smearing sugar and oil against his skin and fur.
This is my power. He’s taught me every moment how my surrender is a gift. A give and take. After all, Krampus gives far better presents than Santa.
His groan of desire resonates in my mouth, reverberating down my throat and sending little thunder strikes through me. They target all my pleasure zones and trigger my womb totighten, my pussy to spasm, and more juices to drip from my core.
I melt into his dominating kiss, loving the way he holds the base of my spine with one hand and the back of my head with the other. He captures me like a monster hunting his prey. Krampus takes the breath from my lungs, and I feel his marking them while my tongue memorizes his taste of cinnamon and hot buttered rum. And my orgasmic cream, of course.
In one kiss, Krampus can ignite all my dark and depraved fantasies. Waves of desire consume me until I start grinding against him.
Chuckling darkly, Krampus fucks me with his tongue hard and hot until he finally lowers me. I gasp, slamming my eyes shut and arching my neck while he works me back and forth to stroke the surface and base of his cock. All my juices wet the massive length. My inner muscles spasm, ready to convulse from him rubbing that huge crown along my folds, parting them, and dipping into my soaked slit, testing, teasing.
“Krampus!” I whine, trembling all around him.
“Skitten jente!”
He plunges inside me.
My whine turns into a scream as that monstrous cock stretches all my flesh, consuming every millimeter of me. I take him, all of him. I feel his crown in my womb, that cock head showing through the skin of my stomach. No pain because his magic siphons into me, engulfing me in rich throes of heat only the Yuletide demon can perform. I still get this glorious sense of pressure and the knowledge of how he’s widened my hips to receive him.
