Santa and the Vampire HunterbyNaughtily_Written©
Joy to the World playing softly in the background, Christmas was definitely in the air in this small corner of sunny Florida. A large, finely adorned Christmas tree blinked its lights from the corner of the Italian café despite the soft morning light of Boxing Day. Traditional holiday and Italian flavors mixed and floated from the kitchen and caused mouths to water and tummies to grumble as so many indulged in the breakfast menu described as a guilty pleasure that went straight to the hips.
Nick Jonas Claus bit into the last of the cookie and a groan vibrated through his chest as he barely controlled the urge that compelled his fangs to drop. Moist and rich, the chocolate chip goodness melted on his tongue and excited his palate as he swallowed. His sweet tooth was the only male one that rivaled a female's according to his mother.
His sound of pleasure drew many appreciative female glances including that of the baker who shared the small round table with him. She slid the to-go bag closer to him and he captured her tiny hand. Feathering a kiss over her knuckle, he said, "Run away with me."
Laying on the charm, he flashed straight, white teeth and allowed the twinkle in his eyes to show. The female blushed a rosy color at the attention, a look of delighted amusement on her near seventy year old face. She giggled like a school girl. "Oh dear, I don't think Mr. Rossi would appreciate that," she replied and indicated her husband who stood a few feet away, watching the show with the lazy indulgence of a man secure in his marriage.
Used to Nick's flirtation, he agreed, "Certainly not, Rosa. I am not too old to wipe the floor with you, young one."
A regular to the family owned café for more than a year, Nick enjoyed the easy camaraderie he had with these two. He especially enjoyed watching the love between them. The way even after almost half a century of marriage, their hearts still beat a little faster at the sight of each other.
He sighed sadly at Alessandro's reply and conceded gracefully, "Ah, well, I know when I've been beat." He leaned closer to Rosa and whispered conspiringly, "But if you ever decide to run off into the sunset with me, all you have to do is call, my dear."
The old woman patted his hand affectionately before letting go. "You need to find a nice young woman to settle down with, sì. Not flirt with an old lady like me." Even after more than three decades of living in the United Sates, her Italian accent was as heavy as ever despite her great grasp of English. Knotted up into her bun, her salt n' pepper hair gave her a wise air.
He almost laughed at her comparing their ages. What would she say if she knew he was more than seven hundred years old? "But no woman can compare to you, my sweet Rosa. You have ruined me for all others."
"That's your stomach talking, young man," she huffed laughingly.
He grabbed his chest. "Oh, you wound me. Do not make light of my feelings."
She laughed and went to her husband who placed a kiss on her cheek, his hand discreetly caressing her back. Together they walked back to the counter sharing a whispered joke. Nick's sensitive ears picked up the dirty undertone of it and he bit his lip against the bark of laughter eager to escape.
Nick loved woman.
It was fact that he was neither ashamed nor hesitant to admit. He loved everything about them no matter the age, shape or size. He loved the way tenderness lit the eyes of a grandmother at her grandkids shenanigans, or a little girl's pleasure at a simple gesture. He especially loved the way fire blazed through a woman's eyes as she orgasmed around his cock. He even liked their weird moods and temper. Not that a woman in a fit of pique was not a terrifying thing but it made life interesting. It kept him on his toes and there was nothing he loved more than a challenge.
When he becomes romantically involved with a woman, he committed to making her feel special. He liked to learn what stimulated her mind, what heated her body, her dreams, her hopes. The complication that most males found frustrating, he looked forward to exploring, trying to solve the puzzle of the female heart and mind. He had no luck so far but he figured he had plenty of time to figure it out.
Picking up his spiced coffee, he looked up to catch the amused half smile of the woman two tables opposite him. With a brazen sensuality her green gaze held his, her pink lips closing over the edge of her steaming cup. Her heart pumped just a little faster before resuming its leisurely pattern. The rich scent of the red ambrosia that raced through her veins reached him, laced with a subtle hint of her natural aroma, a surprising light scent of fresh cherries.
He knew he did not appear to but his eyes slithered over her body, from the top of her flaming red head to the tips of her black metallic biker boots. Sun light bounced off her lightly perspiring skin mimicking tiny sparkling diamonds and her cheeks shined with health. Her eyes were a mixture of light flames of brown, silver and gold, all wrapped in a ribbon of green. She seemed out of place in this tiny café, its quaint, peaceful setting a direct contrast to the aura of steamy sex in the rain this woman gave off.
The waitress brought her check. She gave him a bold once over before dropping her gaze with a dismissive gesture that widened him smile.
He knew what she saw. He was dressed in a red Santa's suit which was wrinkled from hours of delivering presents. The jacket was unbuttoned to reveal the black tank top beneath and there was a tear in the right pant leg courtesy of a feisty Shih Tzu. His hair was a windblown mess and stubble darkened his jawline. He looked like a down on his luck Santa imitation who worked late at the local mall.
Only, he was the real deal.
He took up the responsibility fifty years ago when his father, the original man in red, retired. Just hours before he left Rudolf throwing a fit of the lack of his favorite sweet baby carrots while his mother, Marine Claus, tried to placate the spoiled beast.
That was not the kicker in his bag of secrets though.
He was a vampire.
And he hadn't had a proper feeding in a week.
Though his taste buds still tingled with the sweet treat they received, they swelled at the woman's scent. Aware of his gaze, the musky tang of her pussy mixed with the metallic smell of her blood. His fangs length just that little bit and pricked his tongue, releasing a drop of the liquid he craved. All his senses buzzed and his cock pushed at the thankfully large pants.
A low growl rumbled through his throat and the slight disruption in her heartbeat made him wonder if she heard the sound. She controlled herself quickly though. The discipline she exerted over her body made him want to rattle her, made him want to push her until she lost control.
His smile turned predatory. Santa just found his treat for being such a good boy this year. Not kicking Jack Frost in the face after the mischievous imp dropped a foot of snow on him deserved a reward, didn't it?
The focus of his attention paid her bill, gathered her belongings and stood. Embroidered with the bent over figure of a woman wearing only a Santa's hat and the words I've Been A Naughty Girl, Fuck me Santa, the thin white tank top she wore hugged her figure to perfection. The full cups of her lace-covered breasts pushed at the material and showed a hint of erect nipple. The top ended just above her belly button, showing off a simple belly button ring.
She walked by his table and he closed his eyes as her scent intensified. Precum leaked from the head of his cock as a fine shudder graced his spine and pulled on the hair at the back of his neck.
His eyes opened quickly though and he followed her progress out of the building. Her distressed jeans showcased her knees and teasing portions of her thighs. She was not very tall, only reaching his collar in her boots he guessed but those jeans molded her legs in a way that made them look a mile long. He was visually stimulated just like the next guy and damn, was he ever stimulated by the way the jeans hugged her ass so adoringly. Her crimson ponytail swung with each step, brushing her lower back, briefly revealing a small black and red spider tattoo where her shoulder met her neck. Light refracted off the strands and gave the illusion of a live flame.
He wanted her.
Desire was like slow boiling syrup in his veins and thick on his tongue. He did not just yearn for her blood, he wanted to sink his body as far into her heat as he could go and not come out for days, weeks. The intensity of his body's demand was surprising but not unwelcomed even though he knew there was more to this woman than met the eye.
Grabbing his bag of goodies, he rose from his table with a purposeful movement. Sending a wave Rosa's way, he followed her out onto the sidewalk. She stopped at a powerful motorcycle parked at the curb. Recognizing the expensive brand, he was not surprised by her choice of vehicle. Black and red, the bike resembled its owner, slick and muscled yet undeniably female. Grabbing her helmet, she turned to him and, looking him up and down, asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"
Husky, like she had the beginnings for a cold, her voice was just like the rest of her; sex personified. His cock twitched with every decibel.
"Come home with me," he said.
Heels clicking, hips swinging, she closed the distance between them until the tips of her breasts brushed his chest. It was all he could not to groan. Brushing imaginary lint from just above his heart, she licked her lips. His gaze followed the motion like a man possessed. Boldly she met his stare, her voice lowering to a pitch only lovers shared. "And why would I do something like that?"
He leaned over and pressed his nose against her pulse before meeting her gaze. "Because you want to. Because you're curious why your heart flutters at the sound of my voice. Why your pussy is wet and ready for a cock you've never seen. Because you need to fuck just as badly as I do."
Her pupils dilated and she stilled before her eyelids lowered to hide her thoughts. It couldn't hide the reaction of her body though. Her skin flushed pink and her hips squirmed in a barely visible movement before she lifted her eyes back to his.
"Follow me," she said and moved away with graceful efficiency with a swish of red hair. Her body straddled the powerful machine and unbridled the image of her riding his body instead came up.
Helmet on, she roared down the street, not waiting to see if he did as she instructed. Rubber burning in his wake, he was on her tail in seconds.
Sophie "Black Widow" Blayne watched the new Audi model pull in behind her. The man emerged as the garage door cut off the sunlight, his scruffy appearance at odds with the expensive car. Cutting the engine, she swung her legs over the bike. Not waiting to see if her target followed, she unlocked the door to the warehouse apartment. As the door swung into the industrial style kitchen, a vulturine smile briefly curved her lips.
One of the world's only female vampire hunters, Sophie's senses tingled in anticipation of the kill. In was a sensation she felt many times yet this time the feeling was heightened by the unusual arousal that ran through her the moment her eyes met this vampire's. For a fraction of a second, she drowned in the bottomless abyss of his eyes, lust slamming through her blood with earthshattering intensity. Even now her clit burned with the need to be stroked, her nipples hard and achy, skin fevered.
In her line of work she came across quite a few males with supernatural good looks and charm but without a word he had seduced her. Reminding herself why she was doing this did not help the fire in her loins but it helped her brain retain its fragile control.
At the tender age of ten, she watched a vampire slaughter her mother. She only lived because a timely interruption by a neighbor flooded the room with sunlight. Watching her mother's lifeless eyes, she vowed to kill the vampire. Her need for revenge had driven her to do just that and she became the world's youngest vampire hunter at the age of fifteen.
Now that the being who started her on this journey was dead she had nothing to focus on but her career. She knew nothing else. She aimed to be the best and Nick Claus was just another stepping stone to getting what she wanted.
He was one of the only vampires born naturally. Called full bloods, these beings were birthed by a human female impregnated by a vampire seed. There were only a handful of known full bloods, not even the original Mr. Claus in the ranks. Turned by a rogue one Christmas more than a millennia ago, Nick's father passed onto him magical powers that made him even more dangerous than the average full blood. Stronger, faster, he was able to withstand sunlight for extended periods compared to his turned cousins cursed to an eternity of darkness. The bounty on his head was enough for her to live off of for the rest of her life twice over.
She spent almost two year searching for a way to capture Nick Claus. The knowledge of his inability to resist the female sex was widespread. When a tip led her to the café in Tampa, she jumped at the opportunity. It was amazing how easily he took the bait. She planned to leave his brain in a gooey mess and strike when he was most vulnerable.
His heavy black boots sounded behind her and she turned to see him close the door. When he took a step in her direction, she pushed him against the door. He laughed but allowed her to restrain his hands above his head. "Take charge kind of woman, huh?"
She nipped at his jaw, rubbing up against his erection. "Have a problem with that?"
He leaned his hips into hers and reached down to nuzzle her throat. His breath tickled her skin and she gasped at the feeling. "I'm all yours, sweetheart."
She pulled the sides of his jacket apart. The buttons scattered and the jacket fell to the floor soon after. She pushed the black tank top beneath up, her lips and tongue starting a path from the smooth expanse of his belly following in the cloth's wake. He helped her get it over his head and it landed on the jacket.
In the pale light that came through the shaded high ceiling windows, his chest shined like a golden slab of godly perfection, the stack of abs that lined his abdomen impressive. His dark hair fell over eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea, shining with auburn and blond highlights. Light and shadow played over the features of his face, making him appear darkly mysterious, irresistible.
Despite his obvious appeal, he could not be defined as beautiful or pretty. The terms were too feminine. There was an animalistic magnetism about him that sucked her in. He emanated power. It was evident in every line of his body, in the arrogance of his jaw, in his very aura. The charming, laidback image he portrait barely masked the predator she knew lay just beneath the cover of his skin.
She undid his belt as one of his fingers traced the hem of her top before drawing lazy circles over a puckered nipple.
"How naughty of a girl have you been?" he asked, his gaze on her front of her top.
"Oh, the very baddest, Santa," she purred. "I have done things far too depraved for the naughty list."
The buckle yielded to her hands. Its heavy weight pulled his pants down his muscular legs.
He was naked underneath.
Long and thick, his cock was hard against his thigh with just the slightest curve. She made a low hum of appreciation in the back of her throat. The blunt head, already sleek with precum, released another pearly drop. She looked up into his eyes as she gave into impulse and dropped to her knees. They were darker now, desire turning them an ultramarine shade.
"Santa has a special treatment for bad girls like you. Somehow I don't think a spanking will suffice. How about I fuck you until you learn the error of your ways?"
"Do you really think that'll work, Santa? I've been told there's no hope for me." She placed a biting kiss on the top of his left thigh, the musky scent that rose off his skin far too addictive. The muscle quavered in reaction and his hand gripped her ponytail. His harmless façade was falling away, just a hint of fang showing.
"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" The words took on a growly edge as she gripped him, licking a wet path from root to tip.
She repeated the action several times before whirling her tongue over his slit. She engulfed him and his head banged against the wood, his cock jerking in her mouth. She licked at the fluid that reminded her of salt on sweet mango. She moaned to his earthy curses as she fought to stay detached.
Massaging the firm globes at the base of his cock, she bobbed her head up and down and allowed saliva to dribble from her lips. The steady stream parted into tributaries that flowed down his length and over her rotating hands as she fisted the length she could not swallow. His hips moved with her and together they built an increasing rhythm.
Relaxing her throat she took more of him, loving the way his hands tightened in her hair. The sounds of sex bounced off the walls as he angled her head the way he wanted and tunneled his cock passed her lips, countering her movements. It was not long before he exploded on her tongue. Her pussy ached, her muscles clutching at emptiness, and her nipples tightened painfully. She squirmed and contented herself with the feel of his orgasm, her jeans in the way of gratification. She loved the feeling a man becoming undone in her mouth. There was something she found highly erotic about it.
This time was no different. The vampire's face tightened with his climax, his cock swelling larger as each jet of cum hit the back of her throat. It was thickly sweet with a bitter under bite that had her eager to swallow every drop.
She let him out with a pop a few seconds later. His cock bobbed with the action, only marginally softer than before. She licked her lips and caught a stray drop. Standing, her hand smoothly removed the knife laced with ultraviolet beads from her boot. All it would take was a blow to the heart and this vampire would be no more than dust.
But watching the way his face showed every unit of pleasure he felt, her hand refused to move and, just that easily, she lost her chance. He slowly opened his eyes and she quickly placed the knife at her back, a seductive smile at the ready.
"That was great." His smile was back. "Comere. My turn."
He reached for her but she neatly evaded his grip. She needed privacy to get her head together. "Give me a minute to slip into something a little more..." she bit her lip suggestively "... festive."
He gave her a once over that had her pussy clenching, wanting everything his eyes promised. "You look just fine to me."
She backed away, careful to keep the weapon out of his view and placed a counter between them. "Be patient, lover. I promise it'll be worth it."
She was almost in the bedroom when he called out, "Wait! I'd like to know the name of the woman who sucked my cock so wonderfully."
"Sophie," she gave him her real name without thought. Quickly ducking her head, she cursed her slip.
"Sophie," he rolled her name on his tongue and made it sound like an exotic spice. "I'm Nick."
"Be right back, Nick." She wiggled her fingers at him and closed the door between them. Turning the lock, she leaned against it for a second, adrenaline and nerves making her dizzy. She quickly crossed the bedroom to the adjoining bathroom. Placing the knife down, she wiped a hand over her face and cursed her hesitation.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she raged at her reflection.
A trickle of moisture added to the cream making her pussy lips rub so erotically together and her question was answered. She wanted to a cock between her thighs and at the moment not any cock would do. She wanted Nick. A vampire in Santa's suit. One she was determined to kill.