The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus - Jeanette Lynn Page 0,50
to that, I tapped his chest. “Baumbel.”
Frowning, glancing between my boobs and my face, one of his hands slid from my back and he tapped my chest with a loud grunt. Tapping it too hard, and my butt not ready for the heavy thump to my sternum, I yelped, overcorrected, and tumbled to my side. Grip on him loosening as I flailed, I probably would have landed on my fool head if he hadn’t caught me.
“Oh- holy… night, let’s not do that again,” I spluttered.
Beast pet thing came back then, those funny orange rocks in its maw. Dumping them near a small bowl-like indent near the platform bed, the creature nudged them into it with its nose and took a few steps back. A burst of thick blue flame erupted from its mouth that had the rocks instantly producing heat.
A shiver traveled its way up my spine. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold in the air fighting the heat of the fire, or his pet had just freaked me out with the crisp you in seconds thing.
Misinterpreting my reaction, Baumbel strode closer to the room-like space. Grabbing a couple of pelts from his sleep pile, he dragged them close to the rock pit and then set them down. Kneeling, noting my hesitancy with his beast companion so close, Baumbel let out another series of clicks and the beaked creature hefted its huge frame from where it’d started to get cozy, muzzle lifting to sniff in my direction, and slunk back to its pelt and bone. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was pouting.
The hand sliding down my shoulder brought my focus back to the Baumbel. “Hunman,” he tried again, then grunted, like he was prompting me for something. His other hand slid over my chest, one large hand spreading wide, spanning my breasts to settle over them. “Hunman,” he said, then grunted as if to prompt me.
Leaning over near the heated rock fire to wring my hair out, careful not to do so too close to his pelt, I wasn’t expecting the hand that came towards me, boldly reach out to touch my hair. Flinching, I made to jerk away but stopped myself. He wasn’t hurting me. He’d saved me. He seemed genuinely interested in helping me. I needed to remember that.
His churring whir started up. He was so close and doing it directly at me, tingles raced up my spine. Those warm and fuzzies moved on to tease elsewhere, sending gooseflesh pricking my skin for reasons of the still sensitive with the sexual needs not yet met, unfulfilled variety.
Watching me watching him, my eyes wide, gaze sharp, he started to lean forward, leaning in to gently brush the top of his head just under my jaw. When I stiffened but didn’t protest, his churring grew louder and his explorations grew bolder. A soft gasp left me as his mouth found purchase, lips teasing my collarbone to work his way farther south. My hands were clenching the fur beneath them as a thick tongue slid from between his thick lower lip and thinner upper and that wide appendage rasped over my breast. My sex clenched, thighs burning as I went to shove them shut automatically as if to hide the evidence of the direct affect his attentions were having on me, to find them blocked by the thick thighs already having found a home there.
His face nuzzled a little harder, as if to urge me to lie back. He nudged too hard and I flopped backwards, catching my weight on my elbows. The action shoved my chest forward, pressing the hardened bud he was tormenting towards his lips. When he latched on and hungrily sucked, a shriek of a squeak left me. My hands slapped to his head at that first drugging pull. This was nothing like a Krampus encounter. Baumbel was working my breast to appease a different kind of hunger than a Krampus’.
Glowing eyes found mine as he laved, gently lapped, nipped at the treat he’d found, full of hunger, carnal heat. My heart pounded, the place between my legs aching to be filled slick with want.
Releasing one breast, he prolonged the torture by working the other one. I was grateful as the pressure building in my aching breasts eased, but a sense of urgency took over.
My hands buried in the fur at his nape and his fat, fluff covered head, holding him to me. Squirming on the thigh wedged between my legs, I