Chapter 23 Holly
HOLLY
Christmas morning.
The thought floats through my mind as gentle as snowfall, and I wake slowly, my consciousness seeping in, slow and unhurried.
The sheets beneath me are impossibly soft, the kind of luxury I've only ever experienced in hotels that cost more per night than my monthly rent.
But this isn't a hotel.
This is Nikolai's bed.
And the warmth pressed against my back, the weight of an arm draped across my waist… that's him.
My husband.
"Merry Christmas," he murmurs against my hair, and I feel the words as much as hear them, a rumble in his chest, a brush of breath against my neck.
I turn in his arms to face him. His eyes are already open, that striking blue watching me.
"Merry Christmas," I whisper back.
His fingers begin to move, tracing patterns on my bare shoulder, drifting down my arm with agonizing slowness, and every nerve ending in my body seems to spark awake.
"No regrets?" he asks.
I think about last night. The Northern Lights dancing across the sky. The way his thick cock pushed into me. The way my body opened for him, welcomed him, and craved him in ways I didn't know I was capable of.
"No regrets," I say.
I don't know what any of this means. Don't know what happens when we leave this bed, this room, this perfect morning.
But right now, none of that matters.
Right now, I'm exactly where I need to be.
In Nikolai's arms.