I lean over and press my lips gently to his. My long hair falls across his face, surrounding him, and his hand comes up and tangles in it, pulling it back and using the grip on it to tug me closer as the kiss deepens. He sits up straighter and pulls me tighter against him without breaking the connection between us, urging me over until I’m straddling his lap, my knees pressing into the wooden bench on either side of his thighs. Both my hands are so tangled in his thick hair that I might never get them out, one of his is still holding my hair aside, the other is curled into my jacket like he can’t hold on tight enough, his fingers rubbing my back where they touch, constantly pulling me closer than it’s possible to get. I know my whimpers of pleasure are mixing with his moans as we kiss for what seems like ever.

I’m panting by the time we pull back, and he releases his hand from my hair so it falls in a messy curtain around us again, caging us in as I lean my forehead against his and we both try to get our breath back.

I untangle my hands from his hair, fully expecting to come away with a few handfuls given how tightly I’ve been holding it. I go back to stroking it gently, unwilling to remove my hands from him or move from where I’m still straddling his legs. His hands are running up and down my back, his fingers gentle but his wrists are pressing tight, holding me there.

‘I bet a sleigh has never been used for this sort of thing before,’ he murmurs.

‘Oh, I don’t know. Santa and Mrs Claus must have feelings too. Certain … desires … that they feel the urge to act upon. When the reindeer aren’t looking.’

He lets out such a burst of laughter that it reverberates through me too. ‘Ooh, yeah, can you imagine kissing Santa? I bet there are crusty bits of mince pie in his beard and sticky chunks of half-sucked candy cane …’

‘You can’t say that about Santa!’ I kiss him again to shut him up. ‘He smells of sugarplums and washes his beard with the sparkly tears of elves every day.’

‘He probably bathes in reindeer droppings. That’s why no one’s ever seen him – because the stench makes everyone’s eyes water so much that they’re blinded whenever he approaches.’

You’d think it would be hard to laugh and kiss at the same time, but somehow we manage it, and when we pull back to pant for breath this time, I force myself to shift off his lap before this doesn’t end at kissing. Even so, I love the noise of disappointment he makes, and the way his hand clamps onto my thigh, like he can somehow hold onto me for a little longer.