His fingers found the zipper of my coat, working it down with fumbling urgency while I struggled with the buttons of his red velvet jacket. We were all hands and desperate breathing, trying to undress each other, unwilling to break the kiss for more than a heartbeat.
“How many layers are you wearing?” I asked in frustration as I encountered the fifth pillow.
“Too many,” he growled, shrugging out of the Santa jacket and letting it fall to the floor. Pillows tumbled away, revealing skin and a simple loincloth. If I’d known that was all Santa was wearing beneath his red suit, I wouldn’t have been able to think of anything else.
When his hands found the hem of my sweater, I lifted my arms to help him pull it over my head. The cool air bit my skin, but his touch burned hot enough to keep me warm. His calloused fingers traced along my ribs, driving goosebumps ahead of his touch.
“Lovely,” he murmured, kissing along my collarbone. “So lovely.”
“You’re just saying that because my bra matches my elf skirt.” Red and green, with tiny white bows.
His low laugh rumbled through his chest, and he dipped his tongue to trace the curve where my neck met shoulder. “I’m saying that because you’re driving me absolutely out of my mind, though the matching helps.”
I couldn’t form words. My awareness narrowed to his touch. Everything rerouted through him. When his lips found the hollow of my throat, I arched against him, a soft sound escaping that I didn’t recognize as my own voice.
“Carla.” My name was a prayer on his lips as he worked his way lower, his mouth trailing fire across my skin.
I’d been dreaming about touching him for days. His skin was warm and smooth, stretching over muscles that flexed beneath my palms. I traced the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the contrast between his gentleness and the raw power I could feel coiled beneath the surface.
“You’re lovely,” I whispered, and felt him smile against my throat.
“Orcs aren’t lovely.”
“You are.” I cupped his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”
Vulnerability flickered beneath the desire in his expression. “You mean that.”
“Every word.”
He kissed me with such tenderness it made my chest ache. This wasn’t just physical need anymore. This was connection, recognition, the acknowledgment of something deeper and more precious than attraction.
When he lifted me higher against the wall, I wrapped my legs around his waist, bringing us flush together. The contact sent heat spiraling through me, and I couldn’t suppress the gasp that escaped.
“Tell me what you want,” he said against my ear, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my entire body.
“You,” I breathed. “All of you. Everything.”
His hands found the fastening of my jeans, and I helped him work them down my legs, kicking them aside. When his fingers slid along the hem of my underwear, I thought I was going to come apart from anticipation alone.
“Please,” I whispered, not entirely sure what I was asking for but knowing I needed more.
He seemed to understand. His touch became more purposeful, more intimate, drawing responses from my body that made me forget where we were, forget everything except the sensation of his hands on me.
“So responsive,” he said, his mouth finding that sensitive spot beneath my ear. “I love the sounds you make.”
I whimpered as his fingers worked magic, tipping my head back against the wall, surrendering completely to what he was doing to me.
“That’s it,” he said. “Let me hear you.”
The world narrowed to the points where he touched me, tasted me, whispered praise against my skin. When he finally removed the last barriers between us, I felt exposed and treasured at the same time.
Then I saw his cock. Frowned at it, even.
“You…”
“Coorails,” he said, stroking his sizable length. “We’re born with them. They enhance our pleasure.”
It looked like he had a Jacob’s ladder spiraling around his cock, with beads on the strands that quivered. I could only imagine how they’d feel inside me.
