#sschallenge

You knew he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about Christmas, and he didn’t try to hide it either, but for you, it was a big deal. The one time of the year that you could forget all of your worries and relax in the company of your loved ones.

Popping the peppermint flavoured treat back in your mouth, you grabbed the large plastic tub from the top shelf, his eyes raking up over the backs of your bare thighs, your woollen midi skirt hiking up.

“You know, I seem to remember you giving me a ticking off yesterday. Candy canes are for decoration, not allowed to eat them until Christmas Day. That’s what you said, isn’t it?” He purred, the space between you growing smaller as he stepped closer, his chest inches from your back.

His tone was slightly mocking, but there was an edge to it that made your tummy flip. You’d been so busy, falling asleep the moment your head hit the pillow for days. Ransom had made it clear that he wanted you, his hands roaming all over you the second your eyes flickered open that morning.

“Well, I mean, yeah I did say that, but it’s Christmas Eve. So it’s basically Christmas now, right?” You shrugged, spinning on the toe of your boot, candy cane dangling between your lips. You almost dropped the container when you collided with his big, strong torso, a gentle oof slipping from your mouth.

Ransom’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his jaw ticking when you tried to side step him, the motion practically impossible in such a small space. You moved left, he moved left. You moved right, he moved right. You had so much to prepare, and you were growing frustrated.

“Could you move? My parents will be here in like half an hour, and I want everything to be perfect.”

You couldn’t help the puzzled look that spread across your features when he took the plastic container from your hands, setting it back down on the shelf and placing his hands on his hips, his demeanour growing impatient when you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and meeting his stare with your own.

“Candy canes are for Christmas Day.” He repeated again. “That’s. What. You.” He plucked the sweet from between your lips, settling it between his own and rolling it around on his tongue before finishing. “Said.”

You felt heat rise at the apex of your thighs, his pink tongue glistening as swept it across his plump bottom lip. You didn’t want to give in, to let him win. He was being ridiculous. But fuck, he looked so damn good in that cream sweater, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you weak.

“Ransom, please, they’ll be here soon.” You whimpered, bouncing on your heels just a little, his lips twitching up into a smirk as he pressed his torso up against your front, caging you between him and the shelf behind you.

“Half an hour, huh? I can get a lot done in half an hour, Kitten. You know that.”

And boy, did you. The things that man could do with his mouth had you screaming, begging, kicking out in submission. You couldn’t count the nights he’d had you pinned to the bed, devouring you like you were his favourite meal.

“I’ve been very patient; I know how much you love Christmas. Running around here trying to make everything perfect for everyone. Fuck, its adorable.”

His knuckles grazed against the column of your throat, your head tilting to the side as if instinctively, baring yourself for him like an obedient little puppy.

The satisfied hum that rumbled in his chest vibrated through you, your nipples pebbling beneath your soft, cotton jumper.

“And all the while, it turns out you were the one who needed a lesson in patience. Isn’t that funny, Kitten?”

He brought the sweet treat up to your mouth, the peppermint tingling against the soft flesh of your bottom lip, your tongue snaking out as he yanked it away from your reach, dangling it like a carrot above your head; his thigh nestled between your own, pressing up against your aching core.

It took everything inside of you not to grind down onto it, to create some kind of friction, anything to sate the growing need between your legs.

“Ransom…” you keened, arching yourself into him, his hot breath fanning your pulse point. Your eyes flickered closed, cheeks flushed with blood, all thoughts of your impending guests withering from your mind as lust clouded your brain.

“Look at you, haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wrecked.” One firm hand wrapped around your waist, he pulled you farther against him, your hands instantly reaching for the rack behind you to steady yourself, your skirt hitched up around your hips from the positioning. “So fucking sexy.”

Your feet barely touched the floor, perched atop his thigh, one of his hands bracing against the wall behind you and the other dipping down between your bodies, a shudder running through you as he pulled your panties to one side.

“Gonna ruin my trousers, you’re drenched for me.” You jolted when you felt a cool sensation spread through your core, your clit pulsing when he swiped the peppermint cane back and forth across it. “You feel those tingles, Kitten?”

Your mouth fell open, nodding mindlessly as you lost yourself in the feeling of his strong, muscular thigh pushing up against you, your legs clamping either side of him, hips winding down shamelessly.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Beg me.” His movements halted then, his makeshift toy tracing soft lines between your pussy lips, your tight hole quivering in anticipation. “Beg me.”

You didn’t want to, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your one working brain cell screaming at you not to give in and feed his ego. But fuck, you just couldn’t stop yourself.

 “Please, please touch me. Can’t—can’t take this.” You whined, your pathetic mewls making you cringe as he grinned wolfishly at your flushed face. “Ransom, please.”

“Good girl.” You gasped when his thick digit slid into your tight channel, your walls fluttering around his knuckle, one hand reaching around, fingernails biting into the back of his neck when he added a second. “Fuck yourself on my fingers, give it to me.”

You did, rolling your hips down, bracing yourself against the shelf behind you, rising and falling until his knuckles nudged at your swollen clit. The tingles returned then, building in your core, your clit numb yet overworked and throbbing all at once.

Obscene sounds echoed through the air around you, the sloppy squelch of your cunt squeezing his fingers growing louder each time you drove yourself down onto him, tits bouncing beneath your jumper at the force of your eagerness.

“You gonna cum all over my hand, Kitten? Make those pretty eyes roll back in that skull for me? Come on, baby.”

Ransom goaded you, ground his impossibly thick thigh against your sex until you were panting, hooking the sticky candy into your mouth. “See why I spend so much time between those perfect legs? Tastes good, doesn’t it? Oh, you’re nearly there aren’t you?”

You could only hum in approval, words catching in your throat each time you tried to speak, babbling incoherently as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, fire spreading in your belly, your muscles on the verge of sporadic contraction.

Your eyes shot open, cunt empty when he pulled his hand away, laving at his digits like the cat that got the cream. You wanted to punch him when he threw that devilish smirk at you, so fucking proud, such an asshole.

“Patience, Kitten. Remember?”

Both hands pressed against his chest, you shoved him, huffing in annoyance at his trickery, but he was solid, and he didn’t move an inch. Your eye catching the time displayed on your watch, you panicked. Ten minutes. Your parents would be arriving in ten minutes.

“I haven’t got time for your shit, Ransom. Move.”

But the thing about Ransom? He loved a challenge, thrived on it. And the way your fury lit up your eyes, your chest heaving as you tried to assert your dominance, well he just couldn’t help himself.

You nearly fell when he pulled his thigh from between your legs, spinning you round and pressing you against the shelving unit, cans and condiments wobbling and threatening to fall.

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re angry.” He crooned, his nose tracing the curve of your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point teasingly. “Not nice to be teased is it? All these treats laying around the house, and I can’t enjoy any of them.”

You felt something probing at your pussy, sinking into you in one easy movement, something too small to be his fingers. And then you felt it again, that familiar tingling sensation riddling your insides, sticky sweet residue collecting at your entrance.

“Bet you wish this was my cock, hmm? This little candy cane doesn’t satisfy you one bit, does it baby?”

When his thumb pressed against your asshole, you jerked forward, the sharp edge of the shelf digging into your collarbones and making you wince in discomfort. “Gonna fuck you here later, and you’re gonna take it. Gonna be a good little girl for me, aren’t you?”

You shook your head, biting down so hard on your lip you could feel the blood bursting to get out. Yet even though you were furious, even though he’d driven half way to insanity, you still found yourself fucking yourself back onto the flimsy, thin, peppermint stick – and he chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah you are. You’re such a greedy little cockslut for me, and we both know it.”

Yelping when he pinched at your swollen nub, you babbled incoherently, winding your hips back against him, chasing your release as it crept back up on you, toes curling in your boots.

Ransom traced tiny circles, coaxing you closer and closer, his lips feathering against your ear, whispering all kinds of filth.

“Please, please let me cum…” you sobbed, half aware that at any moment, that doorbell was going to ring and rip you away from your pleasure. The walls of your cunt were aflame, peppermint kissing your most precious flesh and leaving a warmth in its place that drove you wild.

You felt like your head would pop at any given second, eyes bulging as you arched your back, chasing as much contact with his fingertips as they pressed up against your trembling cunt, ghosting against your swollen nub. It was enough, you were there, you were so fucking close…

The jolly sound of your Christmas themed doorbell rang out through the air, sending you jolting into the shelf, a can of peaches falling to the floor next to your feet. “Fuck!”

“Looks like our guests are here.” Ransom sang, popping the candy cane back between his lips, the wet patch on his thigh prominent and very, very obvious. He turned on his heel, humming in amusement. “Don’t forget the cake, Kitten!”

The afternoon was torturous, your mother rambling about the local gossip she’d gathered from her weekly book club, and your father probing Ransom on his intentions with his ‘little girl’. You lost count of the amount of times you’d rolled your eyes, laughed along with jokes you hadn’t even heard, because every time you looked over at Ransom, the sight had your thighs clenching in need.

He was as smug as you’d ever seen him, rolling what was left of that damn candy cane around on his tongue, smirking at you, and winking knowingly each time you swallowed down your arousal.

“I’m sure you’ll take care of my little princess, wont you Hugh?” Your Father pressed again, his warmth and affection for you warming your heart despite the slick pool of moisture gathering in your panties.