Naughty Little Elf(2)

The mall was finally quiet.

The overhead lights had dimmed to a soft amber glow, the endless loop of Christmas carols had clicked off mid-“Jingle Bells,” and the fake snow machines had gone silent. The winter wonderland looked almost eerie now. There were empty velvet ropes and scattered candy-cane wrappers.

I should have gone home.

My shift ended twenty minutes ago. My coat was in the employee locker, my ride-share app was open on my phone, and every logical part of my brain screamed that I needed to leave before I did something stupid.

But my body had other plans.

I lingered behind the backdrop, pretending to organize the prop baskets while the other elves clocked out and giggled their way toward the exit. One by one, the overhead spotlights powering down left the grotto in shadows, lit only by the twinkling fairy lights strung through the fake pines.

And him.

Santa—Mr. Clausen still sat on the throne, slowly removing the padded belly and loosening the wide black belt. The red jacket hung open, revealing a fitted white undershirt that clung to a chest I’d only ever seen from a distance when he mowed the lawn back home. Broad. Real. Nothing fake about it.

He hadn’t looked at me once since the last family left, but I felt his attention like a physical weight. Every slow movement was deliberate. Every breath was measured.

I knew he was waiting.

I picked up a random plush reindeer from the prop table,the perfect excuse. My heels clicked softly on the faux-snow mat as I walked toward the throne, heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“Um… someone left this behind,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. I held the toy out like an offering, stopping just in front of him.

His blue eyes lifted, locking onto mine. No jolly twinkle now. Just raw and undisguised hunger.

“Thank you, little elf,” he murmured, voice low and rough like aged bourbon. He took the reindeer, but instead of setting it aside, he let his gloved fingers brush mine,deliberately, slowly,before placing the toy on the armrest.

Then he reached past me and flipped a switch on the control panel hidden behind the throne. A soft mechanical whir, and the velvet curtain at the entrance slid closed. Another click, and I heard the faint snick of the magnetic lock engaging.

We were sealed in,alone.

My breath caught. The air suddenly felt thicker, scented with pine, peppermint.

He leaned back, legs spread wide in that commanding way older men have when they know exactly how much space they own. The red pants stretched tight over thick thighs, and I couldn’t help it,my gaze dropped to the obvious bulge straining beneath the fabric.

Fuck. He was hard. For me.

“Come here, Mia,” he said quietly. Not a request.

My legs moved before my brain caught up. I stepped between his spread thighs, close enough that the velvet of his suit brushed my bare knees. The bells on my elf shoes jingled softly, embarrassingly loud in the silence.

He reached up, slow enough that I could have stopped him, and removed the Santa hat. Silver-streaked dark hair fell slightly messy across his forehead. Then the spectacles,he folded and set it aside. Finally, he peeled off the white gloves, revealing large, strong hands with faint calluses that made my stomach flip.

Those hands settled on my hips, thumbs stroking the velvet fabric like he was memorizing the feel of me.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” he said, voice gravel-rough. “Bending over in that little dress. Letting me see what was beneath every time you leaned in for a photo. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

I swallowed, heat flooding my cheeks and between my legs. “Maybe.”

His grip tightened, pulling me forward until I had to straddle his lap to keep my balance. The throne was wide, built for two, but with him filling it, I felt tiny. Overwhelmed. My short skirt rode up instantly, striped stockings and bare thighs exposed as I settled over him.

I could feel him now—thick, hard, pressing right against the thin cotton of my panties. A helpless whimper escaped me.

“Definitely,” he corrected, one hand sliding up my spine to cup the back of my neck. “You’ve been a very naughty elf, Mia. And I’ve been watching you grow up across the street for years,sweet little girl turning into this.” His other hand squeezed my ass, pulling me down harder against his erection. “Into something I shouldn’t want.”

“But you do want me,” I breathed, rocking instinctively against him. The friction made us both groan.

“God, yes.” His forehead pressed to mine, beard tickling my skin. “I’ve imagined this too many times. You in my house. In my bed. Begging for me. But I guess fate had other plans.”

I was already wet, soaked. Actually,my panties were clinging embarrassingly. I could feel how easily I’d slide over him if there weren’t clothes in the way.

He tilted my chin up, eyes searching mine. “Tell me to stop, Mia. Tell me this is wrong and I’ll unlock the door and let you go.”

I should have. He was my neighbor. Twice my age. Widowed and respectable.

Instead, I whispered, “Don’t you dare stop Santa”

The growl that tore from his throat was pure animal. His mouth crashed into mine—deep, filthy, forbidden. His beard scratched my chin in the most delicious way as his tongue pushed past my lips, claiming every inch. I kissed him back desperately, hands fisting in the open jacket, grinding down on the hard length trapped between us.

He tasted like peppermint and sin.

One big hand slid under my skirt, cupping my ass possessively, fingers teasing the edge of my panties. The other tangled in my ponytail, pulling just hard enough to make me gasp into his mouth.

I rocked harder, shamelessly rubbing my clit against the ridge of his cock through our clothes. Every roll of my hips drew a muffled grunt from him, his grip tightening like he was barely holding on.

“Fuck, Mia,” he rasped against my lips. “You’re soaking through my suit.”

I whimpered, embarrassed and turned on beyond belief. “I’ve been wet all day. Every time you looked at me.”

He pulled back just enough to stare into my eyes, pupils blown wide. “Good girl.”

Then his mouth was on my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks I’d have to hide tomorrow. His hand slipped between us, thumb pressing right over my clit through the damp cotton.

I cried out, hips jerking.

“Quiet, little elf,” he warned, voice dark. “Or I’ll stuff those pretty panties in your mouth.”

The threat made me clench so hard I nearly came right there.

I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in as I rode his hand, chasing the pressure I needed. His beard scraped my cheek, his scent everywhere, his lap solid and perfect beneath me.

I was eighteen. He was forty-five.

This was so fucking wrong,and I’d never been more turned on in my life.

The fairy lights twinkled around us like fallen stars, and all I could think was;I want more. Fuck, I want everything.