20. Christmas
Chapter twenty
Christmas
(Kiah)
T he past six weeks have been a crazy blur. How did we get to Christmas already?
For the first time in five years, I don’t have to worry about getting up early to start getting everything ready to feed a bunch of people I don’t give a single fuck about.
In fact, there is nothing on my to-do list today—nothing except the newly-crowned Don Ricci, who’s currently lying passed out beside me in our giant four-poster bed.
Just like when we were on the island, there’s not a stitch of clothing on his perfectly sculpted body.
Every day, as soon as he locks that bedroom door behind him, the clothes are discarded into a messy pile on the floor. I’ve given up on trying to make him fold it neatly—one battle at a time.
Returning to the city had been easier than I thought it would be. The pilot was very cooperative once he understood his lack of a choice in the matter.
Nobody stopped us when we drove into the family compound. The staff and the guards were actually happy to have Nico back. Turns out nobody likes his asshole brother.
That little fucker squealed like the pig he was as soon as I waved that explosive collar’s key in front of his face. One of the easiest confessions I’ve ever gotten.
With J.’s help, Ricardo was swiftly charged with the murder of his father, and Nico’s name was cleared.
If it were up to my little brat, he would’ve sunk his brother to the bottom of the ocean, but I couldn’t let him. It was the only family he had left…
So, we had the little shit Ricardo locked up. In his own private, cushy cell, but a cell, nonetheless. He’d be safe there. And out of our way. That’s the only part I cared about, that and not adding more trauma to Nico’s long list of fucked-up family memories.
Dealing with the inn was even easier. True to his word, as always, Nico had sent for my stuff when the clean-up crew returned to deal with the carnage we left behind. I don’t know what happened to the others we left alive, but only Stefano was allowed to return.
I also don’t know if they found someone to take over the inn in time or if they canceled the bookings for this season, but I don’t particularly care. When I’m ready, I’ll put the place back on the market. It won’t be hard to sell, not in that location.
For now, I want to revel in the fact that we’re free to make new Christmas traditions this year.
I told Nico to clear the schedule for the next three days for our special scene.
He’s trying so hard to be good. It makes me immensely proud. Even when he fucks up, he always owns up to it; tries to be better—in work and in our relationship.
He’s had a shitload of stuff to do since we got back, catching up on everything and making some changes to the business. I can tell how stressful it has been. The doubt never leaves his mind.
But I know he’ll be the best Don.
I patiently tell him so every night as he falls asleep with his face buried in my chest, usually suckling on a nipple.
Some days, we don’t even hook up or do anything traditionally sexual—we just hold each other, naked body pressed to naked body, soothing my skin with his.
Things feel different now, more real.
Our dynamic couldn’t continue as it did on the island—I made Nico sign a contract, one that properly outlines his limits and needs, mine.
I don't want to force his submission; I want him to surrender it freely like the gift it is. It's a beautiful exchange. One where he holds all the power. With a single word, he could stop it all if he wanted to.
As much as he insisted he didn’t need a safe word, I would not budge on this one. Our exploration of his submissive side could only continue under more consensual conditions. He was no longer my prisoner, after all.
As for me, I haven’t just gone from one holiday to the next. I finally have purpose, something to do. Nico made me the head of his security. I get to recruit the new guards, train them, set up new systems and protocols to keep us safe.
The family has so many businesses; keeping everyone alive is a full-time job, one that I’m happy to do. Give me another couple of months, and the Ricci army will be impenetrable.
It feels amazing to finally receive the respect and recognition I deserve. Nico has full confidence in me, and it’s not a job I take lightly.
It does mean that we’ve spent most of our days apart. As painful as that is, I actually don’t mind. Because when Nico closes that bedroom door behind him at night and takes off his clothes, I know I have his full attention, he’s mine…and he’s needy .
Especially on the days I don’t give him permission to come. He’s so cute when he gets frustrated and desperate. Sometimes, the brat defies me, but it’s nothing a little well-meaning punishment can’t correct.
I’ve sent him off to work many a morning with his ass burning bright red beneath his fancy suit. But nobody knows except us; it’s our little secret.
Nico grunts in his sleep, pulling me back to the present.
Snoring lightly against my breasts, legs draped over mine like he’s afraid I’ll leave while he’s asleep, he stirs only slightly when I run my fingers over his semi-erect cock.
Sometimes his dick still gets caged—when he’s been really bad, or when we go away for a trip—but he’s currently out on good behavior.
It doesn’t take much to tease him to full hardness; his dick responds to my most gentle touch like a ravenous animal.
When I detangle myself to flick my tongue over the sensitive cock head, Nico jerks awake instantly.
“Good morning, baby.” I smile, reaching up to kiss his sleepy face.
His only response is a snoozy grumble.
“It’s Christmas morning. You know what that means, don’t you?” I whisper in his ear, and Nico’s eyes pop open fully.
I chuckle, slowly palming his cock. “I thought that would get your attention.”
“That, and your hand on my dick,” he says, looking down at his hardness.
“Is that a complaint?” I kiss his lips, and he nips at my bottom lip, biting me playfully.
“Uh-uh. No complaints.”
“You ready for today, Don Ricci?”
Nico pulls me into his arms, “I’ve thought of nothing else all week.”
“Sames.” Since we first discussed this scene, planning out the details and setting up the boundaries of play, my imagination has run wild, lust pooling between my thighs at the mere thought of what we have planned for Christmas this year.
“The staff are gone?” Nico asks, fighting through the grogginess.
“Yup, everyone’s been sent home except the gate guards. It’s just you and I, baby.”
“Hmm, I like it when you call me baby,” he says, nestling his head between my breasts and inhaling deeply.
“Well, baby , if you can let me go for a second, I need to use the bathroom.”
Despite grunting his objection, Nico rolls over and releases me.
When I return, he’s wide awake, watching my every move as I dig through my bedside drawer.
“I got you something, by the way,” I tell him as I hold up the simple, flat black box topped with a gold bow.
“You said no presents!” he whines.
“Well, you’ve bought me so many damn things since I got here. It’s the least I could do.”
“Kiah,” he protests, getting up.
“Nico, you literally set up an entire art studio for me. And a library. And a weightlifting gym.”
“I’d set up a Dexter’s laboratory if you wanted,” he replies, wrapping his arms around me from behind. His unmistakable erection presses into my back, and I smile.
“Dexter the scientist or Dexter the serial killer?”
He kisses the side of my neck. “Either.”
“Look at you being all romantic.”
“I have my moments. But I’d venture a bet and say it’s all your fault.” The naked Don spins me around and kisses me slowly, deeply, intently, lifting me onto my tippy toes.
“Well, I can’t say I’m sorry.”
“So what’s in the box?” Nico asks, taking it from my hand and shaking it.
“Well, you said you missed the old one. I figured it didn’t have to be a life-or-death situation…Open it.”
My heart swells to overflow as I watch Nico’s face, the sheer wonder in his eyes, as he opens the box.
“Is it what I think it is?” he asks despite the obvious contents.
With a wide smile, I nod. “It’s yours—if you want it.”
I take the elegant metal collar from the box. It’s made of solid steel with a metal hoop in the front, not dissimilar to the one he wore on the island (except for the lack of explosives). I had it custom-made to his exact measurements, engraved with three words on the inside— Property of Kiah .
“I want it,” he says with conviction.
“Will you be mine, Don Ricci?” I ask, and Nico nods enthusiastically.
“I’ve always been yours… Goddess .”
“Mine,” I repeat, leading him to the mirror so he can watch as I snap the cold metal around his throat. It fits snuggly without hindering his breathing.
Nico inhales sharply, eyes glued to the mirror. “It’s perfect,” he whispers, his cock twitching in response too.
And my god, if he doesn’t look like the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my whole damn life…
Lust instantly flares up inside my belly, tugging at my organs with need. I don’t even try to contain it.
Kissing him wildly, I push the newly-collared Don Ricci out the door without bothering to get dressed.
Like it’s a giant playground, we have the house all to ourselves, and there is no need for clothes; we can roam freely through the old mansion.
We damn near fall down the stairs as I lure him to the lounge, unable to keep my hands (or my mouth) from his body.
“Stay,” I whisper into Nico’s ear, leaving him by the massive Christmas tree, nearly double his size. We decorated it ourselves, this time with minimal tinsel frustration on the brat’s side.
Nico whines like a needy puppy but stays put as he’s told.
When I return with a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a tube of blood-red, non-toxic paint in the other, he arches a brow in question.
“Call it foreplay for later.” I wink as I press his naked body into the hard bristles of the tree behind him.
“I’m yours,” Nico consents, letting me manhandle him.
It takes some maneuvering, but I manage to get my way, cuffing the naked Don around the tree with his hands behind his back.
I know the branches are probably scratching him; I’m counting on it.
He’s not going anywhere, though—these are real handcuffs, not play-play ones.
And like old times, I dangle the key before him, taunting him.
Nico’s still dumbstruck when I squeeze some paint into my hand, rubbing them together before painting his chest in broad, messy letters: MINE .
“One day, I’ll carve you up nicely, properly,” I vow, imagining the letters etched in blood on his skin—permanent, forever.
“Please,” Nico moans, cock virtually leaking at the mere thought. Only a psycho like Domenico Ricci would get turned on by blood, but he’s my little psycho.
Grabbing his cock with both hands, it’s impossible not to stain his flesh with red paint as I move him where I need him.
Nico gasps, his whole body tensing as I guide his tip to my clit, using his piercings to stimulate the sensitive nerves.
A loud moan rips from my lips without reservation as I rub the little metal bulbs against my skin.
Fuck, it feels incredible.
I’m so wet already, it doesn’t make much until I’m shivering and shaking all over, my toes curling as the pleasure burns through my skin like wildfire.
“I’m coming,” I gasp, crashing my body into Nico’s, trapping his leaking cock between us. Smearing the paint, I hold onto him as I ride the wave of my orgasm until I can trust my knees again.
“This is the best Christmas ever,” Nico rasps between rapid breaths, kissing my temple.
Devilishly, I smile up at him, “Oh, but the fun has just begun, baby boy…”