Page 25 of Naughty or Nice?
In three large strides, St. Nick closes the gap between us. He drops the bag of presents at our feet and clamps his long fingers around both of my wrists. I’m yanked toward him ’til I’m pressed up against his chiseled chest, peering up into his stony face.
Drinking in his twinkling hazel eyes.
“I’m here doing what I always do on Christmas Eve,” he grunts. “Delivering presents to all the good little girls and boys. And punishments to those on the naughty list.”
My skin warms, my excitement reaching new heights. “I’ve behaved myself all year.”
“Have you? That’s not what I’ve heard. I’ve heard you’ve been bad. You’ve been a naughty little whore, fucking your ex-boyfriend’s father.”
“I can explain,” I quickly say. “He came onto—EEEP!”
A squeal leaves me as St. Nick rips me off my feet and tosses me over one broad shoulder like I’m the bag of toys he’s brought. The next thing I know, I’m hanging upside down over his back as he picks up the bag of gifts and carries us both upstairs like nothing.
My ass is peeking out from my robe. His arm tightens about my bare thighs as I kick and thrash against him.
It’s no use.
He’s too strong, too powerful.
He hauls me upstairs, turning down the hall into the bedroom. The same low-lit, ambient room I’d been innocently moisturizing in minutes ago. I’m flung onto the bed where I land with a hard bounce, my robe becoming partially untied.
Propping myself up on my elbows, strands of hair strewn across my face, I peer over at him and wait on his next move.
I’m no longer acting. I’ve become the part I’m playing, a not-so-innocent woman startled by the sexy Santa intruder in her home, who’s arrived to ravage her for being a little naughty this holiday season.
“Take whatever you want,” I murmur. “Just please don’t hurt me.”
“No talking,” he snaps. “Bad girls don’t get to talk. They just get punished.”
I make a split second decision. As he stands over the bed and I look up at his harsh expression, I decide I might as well give him hell.
Make him work for these punishments he’s about to inflict.
I leap off the bed, fast and agile like a cat, and scramble toward the door. St. Nick is on me at once. While I’m fast, I’m nomatch for his significantly longer strides. As I streak past him, he extends his arm and hooks it around my waist. I’m reeled backward before I can ever make a real escape.
A deep, angry growl rumbles out of him as he slams me down on the bed and pins my arms on either side of my head.
“Just where do you think you’re going, darling?” he asks, grinning darkly. “You really want to piss off St. Nick when you’re already in trouble?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong!” I say with a defiant glare.
He chuckles. “That’s exactly why you need to be punished. So you can learn your lesson.”
He holds me down as he reaches for the large sack he’s brought with him. Turning it over, various sex toys and devices spill out onto the floor.
Anything you can think of.
Vibrators. Anal plugs. Gags. Floggers. Nipple clamps and cock rings. All kinds of different binds.
I struggle even harder against him, refusing to give in so easily, despite the fact that I’m trapped.
“You want to be feisty, seems like you need to be tied down.”
“No!” I scream. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
But I’m ignored.
St. Nick reaches for some silk binds that he easily knots around my wrists. I’m flipped over onto my stomach as he wraps the silk ribbons around two of the bed posts. I’ve effectively been rendered helpless, laying bent over the bed. Stomach flush on the duvet, my legs drape over the sides, my feet grazing the hardwood flooring.