Page 87 of Santa’s Little Faker

Oh yeah.

I was going to tell him that as soon as I could catch my breath.

He kept chasing it off with every thrust that nailed my prostate perfectly. “My naughty sub.”

Maybe.

We’d talk about that later.

“My slut.”

Clenching around him, I worked my ass and nibbled on his neck. “Yours.”

“My mate.”

Just like the omegas…I was his and he was going to keep me forever.

“Please. The words. You need.” He needed to do a lot because I was going to come faster than he seemed to realize. “Daddy…”

His laugh was wicked and sexy and somehow made him fuck me faster. “You’re right. I need to claim my boy.”

He was definitely the brat.

“Claim me, Daddy.” I’d figure out a way to get back at him, though. Once he finished breeding me. “Make me yours. Breed me.”

Ha.

“Fuck.” Daddy’s rhythm faltered but he got back at me. He reached down between us and all it took for him to win was for him to wrap his hand around my cock. “Brat.”

But I was his brat.

“Come.”

And a very obedient one at that.

He helped too, though.

Just watching him come and seeing how good it was for him would’ve been enough to throw me over even if his hand and cock weren’t doing an amazing job on their own. It was so good as my orgasm rolled through me that my brain actually went quiet and everything went hazy again.

Amazing.

When reality tuned back in, he was holding me tight and I was curled up on his chest while he kissed my head. “There you are.”

“I’m here.” I even managed to kiss his chest before I made the amazing effort to lift my head and kiss his lips. “Right here.”

Something made him smile like he’d thought I was cute and I got another soft peck as he ran his hand over my head. “You’re always going to be right here with me, sweet boy.”

Always.

That was a good word.

“Because…”

He grinned wider as I raised one eyebrow and gave him his Daddy look. “Because I love you. You’ve always been my Trippy, my friend, and then more…but I just couldn’t see what was right in front of my face.”

“Until I helped.” There was no way he could ever punish me for that. “Good boys help their Daddies.”

His chest jerked in silent laughter, but he nodded and gave me another soft kiss. “Yes, you helped give me and Santa a push.”

I might’ve been Santa’s little faker, but I was the best brat he could’ve ever asked Santa for.

“I love you, Daddy.”

He was the best Christmas present I would ever get and I was never going to forget that.

Merry Christmas and thank you, Santa.

Love was the best present a little could get.

~~~