Chapter 27
DAMON
Christmas
“Mm … you keep doing that, sweetheart, and we won’t make it downstairs.”
Mae’s tongue traces the veins of my hard shaft as if they’re paths leading to a final destination. She’d be right. My straining cock begs for her, all of her, and when I push the sheet over her bobbing head, she looks up at me through pretty lashes, brazen eyes daring to be my downfall.
“You want me to stop?”
“Fuck no .”
Her face alights with mischief. “Good. I’m rather enjoying myself.”
It’s a beautiful sight to behold any time of day, particularly first thing in the morning. Untamed golden blonde hair falls over her bare breasts, the scent of vanilla still lingering on her soft skin long after the last batch of glazed rolls were made late last night.
“Merry Christmas, my love,” she says, still rhythmically stroking the base of my cock.
“Merry Chris… fuck…” Intent on driving me crazy, Mae sucks my cock into her mouth until I feel it hit the back of her throat. A current seizes my body, muscles tensing the closer she brings me to the edge. It’s only when her fuckable lips give undue attention to the head of my cock, tongue swirling and tasting, do I fill her mouth with my cum.
“ Fucking hell, Mae!”
I watch as the woman who expertly proves to be my ruin time and time again takes it all, ensuring there’s not a single drop lost. Then, a lady until the end, she delicately wipes the corners of her mouth when finished.
“You could drive a sane man crazy doing that.”
“Mm… perhaps I enjoy seeing you lose control every now and then.”
To prove her point, she crawls up my naked body, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake, all the way over my heaving chest and heart.
“Come here,” I growl, cupping the back of Mae’s neck and drawing her to me. She returns my kiss with a tenderness now nothing like how she just handled my cock, our tongues languidly caressing as she moans into my mouth.
“Stay in bed with me,” she whispers in between breaths.
“Sweetheart, I’m already considering canceling Christmas.”
Her melodic laugh is infectious, and with a smile, she kisses my lips with a love I feel right down to my soul.
“What will we say?” Mae barely catches her breath when I suck her nipple into my mouth, grazing my teeth to see her arch against me.
“To who, sweetheart?”
"One day, if we decide to have kids, and they ask about our story.”
Pausing, I find her adoring gaze. “A how-I-met-your-mother story?”
She nods, and I give it a moment’s thought before pinning her under me, enjoying the shriek and contagious laugh that follows. She opens her legs, and I settle in between before she wraps them around my waist.
“Well…” I start. “Once upon a time, I stumbled upon this insanely talented artist online. She was ridiculously beautiful with this smile that could light up a room. I just knew. somehow, someway, we had to meet.”
Mae practically glows with delight as she plays along, rewriting our history.
“I accepted your invitation to a lavish dinner party, and upon arrival, you caught my gaze from across the crowded room. It was as if no one else mattered, and suddenly, it was just you and me all alone.”
That very moment is one I’ll never forget. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” I confess. “Seeing you there, in person and so close, it made time stand still.”
With a feather’s touch, she traces the outline of my face. “And I’ll tell our children just how dashing and confident their father is.”
“You think I’m dashing?”
“ Oh , yes. And ridiculously charming. So much so that before we even sat down to eat, you romanced me with your love of old books.”
“And you impressed me with your altruistic appreciation of morally gray protagonists.” I kiss the palm of her hand cupping my face. “Or perhaps you just know a redeemable character when you see one.”
Her adoring smile etches in my mind. “Heroes are often created out of something tragic, and even they need love.”
And that’s how she looks at me. After everything I put her through, after turning her life upside down, somehow, I emerged as her hero.
I’ll take it as long as it means I have Mae at my side for the rest of my life.
“What happened next, sweetheart?”
“Mm… I think the rest of the story will be for our ears only.”
My restraint is tested when she bites her bottom lip, the anticipation too great for us. “Don’t tell me I made a move on you so soon.”
She nods, toying with me. “You most certainly did. At that stage, you were still a perfect gentleman even when indecently flirting with me in front of your other guests over a bowl of burned butter sage ravioli.”
“Oh, I remember.” Kissing a path down her cheek, she turns, offering her neck for me to suck on and bite. “I’d never been so aroused by watching a beautiful woman eat.”
Hard nipples graze my chest, her body begging to be filled. “Only a few hours later, you tore off my dress—”
Catching Mae’s gasp with a kiss, I roll my hips, sinking my cock in as far as her tight pussy will allow, her eyes fluttering closed against the welcomed intrusion.
“Then what?” I murmur into her ear.
“Then, you ate me alive.”
Oh, I certainly did.
This time, Mae’s gasp fills the room when I push in farther, hips rolling into rhythm. My cock is so hard it hurts, but she takes it with urgency, embracing pain and pleasure together.
“And did you enjoy all the things I did to you?”
“Oh, yes! ” she cries out while I fuck her deep, beautiful breasts bouncing with every thrust. When I slow my pace to a steady, torturous grind against her clit, she writhes beneath me and sighs. “Damon …”
“Did you want more?”
“So much… oh God! ”
Creating the perfect arch, Mae throws her arms above her head, fingers tearing into the pillows the more she allows the climax to rip her apart.
I live for these moments.
From reckless abandon to the smiles she casts over her shoulder.
Something as simple as interlacing our fingers while we watch a movie, to relinquishing herself beneath me when the credits roll.
Mae Ellison is forever mine.
My beautiful ruin.
~
“She did all this?”
I follow Jason’s gaze to the elegant Christmas arrangement Mae has created in the living room, which extends into the dining room. In traditional colors, there are nutcrackers bigger than the average dog, a snow-covered garland with poinsettias framing the fireplace mantel, a centerpiece adorned dinner table, and an enormous forest-green tree decked in festive finery and tiny lights. It’s not over the top, but it’s perfect for our first Christmas together as a family. Now it’s almost lunch, the aroma of roasted turkey wafting through the house—burned butter sage ravioli for Mae—and carols playing softly over the crackle of a wooded fire.
With how matters spun out of control in Dubai, this is nothing compared to how I expected the end of the year to conclude. Yet, here we all are, defying the odds.
“She’s been busy,” I confirm, recalling the excitement she got out of doing it and the joy on her face as I held her steady on the ladder while she placed the star on top of the tree. Mae insisted I do the honors, but I simply wasn’t ready to take my eyes off her. Not so long ago, when all hope was lost, I feared I might never see her smile again. Now, it’s brighter than the sunniest day, and it does something to my heart every time, becoming somewhat of an addiction. So, the star was all hers.
“It’s like something out of a Hallmark movie,” Jason comments, a memory from what feels like a lifetime ago now playing on his mind.
From the corner of my eye, I glance at him. “Can you get used to it?”
He shrugs. “Well, she’s certainly set the bar for next year.” That’s his version of yes , a rare case of solid approval. On a more somber note, my brother adds, “We haven’t had a Christmas like this since…”
“I know.”
Christmas was our mother’s favorite time of year. She created magic where there wasn’t and good memories to replace the bad. It helped that my father detested family time enough that he chose to fuck off out of the country, leaving the rest of us to enjoy a short-lived moment of freedom.
Now, the presence of another woman in the house has put us both at ease.
Not just any woman. Mae .
The doorbell chimes and with the final guest expected, she leaves Marco and Rosa’s side and dashes to the door. Within seconds, there’s the excitable chatter of two women who haven’t seen each other in months as Mae and Allyson round the corner into the living room, arm in arm and making a beeline directly to me.
“My love,” Mae says, “I want to officially introduce you to Allyson.” Then she turns to her friend. “Allyson, this is Damon.”
“Pleased to finally meet you, Damon,” she says as we embrace. “Or should I call you, Lord Henry Wotton ?”
“Ah… my Lord is reserved for only one woman, I’m sorry.”
Mae’s smile spreads despite how hard she bites that delectable bottom lip.
Understanding perfectly, Allyson shoots her friend a knowing glance before returning her attention back to me. “Well, thank you for your very generous commission. It was neither expected nor unappreciated.”
“My pleasure. It’s been my greatest purchase yet.”
A pretty blush colors Mae’s cheeks because praise in front of others is still a challenge to accept. In private, when she’s at my mercy, it’s a very different story.
“And this…” I say, needing Allyson preoccupied for a moment, “… is my brother, Jason.”
While the two greet each other by shaking hands, Allyson, who’s just fled the East Coast snow, takes a moment to discuss the ‘warmer’ weather with a man who breaks out in hives at small talk.
Seizing the moment, I wrap my arm around Mae’s waist, pull her close, and whisper, “Sweetheart, save that blush for me later when I have you alone.”
She turns into me, her smile brushing my cheek. “And what exactly do I have to look forward to?”
“Reciprocation from this morning.”
I hear the oh on Mae’s sigh, and it takes all restraint not to haul her over my shoulder and bid everyone a Merry- fucking -Christmas.
Beside me, about done with hearing about sun, snow, and sex, Jason clears his throat. “Can we at least make it through the formalities?”
Biting back a giggle, Mae steps away, her lingering fingers slipping through mine before she rehooks her arm through Allyson’s. Then, as she walks away, she offers a single glance back at me. I wink, and she smiles, and fuck, I love her.
“Having heard you both this morning…” Jason grumbles, “… I would have thought you could make it through lunch.”
I side-eye my brother and fight my smile. “You need a wife.”
“Like I need a bullet to the head.” The dry response morphs into a grin that matches my own. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You know as well as I that I’d do it again without hesitation. But speaking of which…” After pouring two glasses of eggnog, I hand one over. “You heard from Tomlin?” I quietly ask of the prison warden.
At the mere mention of the name, Jason appears satisfied while choosing his words carefully. “There’s been murmurs of affray and targeted attacks from other prisoners.”
The benefits of irrefutable evidence and a long-standing friendship with Chief Justice Solange Matthews saw Carlson Cooper brought to trial and his sentence handed down in record speed, resulting in a permanent relocation to his jail cell this side of Christmas.
Dropping a healthy bribe to the warden ensures his four children will see the inside of a prestigious private college for the rest of their schooling years, and a certain prisoner with a target on his back will continue drawing the unwanted attention of thuggish inmates who need a form of release.
Both brothers received their own life sentences, and while I, too, should be satisfied with the outcomes, no punishment will ever truly fit their crimes.
“You happy?” Jason asks, knowing all too well how it can still keep me awake at night.
“For now.”
Our attention falls back upon the woman who unwittingly changed our world, challenged our morals professionally and personally, and held us accountable for our bullshit, which ultimately led us to sit down with the prince and reason him into compromise. In the end, he agreed to change the design entirely, and although still not convinced there was cause for concern, he pledged to sink more money into ensuring structural integrity. He wasn’t happy. The unique design had been his love child, but his conscience got the better of him, and none of that would have been achieved if it hadn’t been for Mae pulling us all into question.
In front of the warm fire, Mae introduces Allyson to Marco, a meeting she’s been desperately excited to make. Marco and Mae have been thick as thieves for the last few months, and it goes without saying that they’re like the brother and sister the other never had. The darkness that’s loomed over my friend for far too long is now nonexistent, and I know, without a doubt, Mae is solely responsible for it. She lifts him in ways Jason and I can’t, and for that, I will be forever indebted.
Watching her body language, she talks proudly of the man who was by her side when I couldn’t be and contributed to keeping her sane when I drove her mad. Bashful, he downplays himself, but the newly acquainted Allyson looks on in admiration as they share a laugh and become quickly at ease with each other.
Jason notices the same thing I do. “Is Mae…”
“Yep.” We continue watching as the matchmaking between Allyson and Marco takes place, Mae stepping away only when confident she’s no longer needed. Thinking aloud, I say, “I wonder how she knew they’d instantly hit it off.”
My brother offers an almost defeated shrug, one that says he’s just as puzzled by her as I am. “I can’t figure it out. Instead of leaving us all to be condemned to our own personal hell, she decides to fix us.”
“And it sounds like you’re really embracing the changes,” I goad, knowing full well he’s a different man because of her, regardless of his tough facade. “It’s really bringing out your better qualities.”
“Don’t blame me if you don’t like what you see. You brought her into our life.”
“Just admit she’s gotten to you too.”
He scoffs as if the idea is worse than someone chewing in a quiet room. “Damon, respectfully, fuck off.”
Raising the glass to my lips, I hide a smile until I see Mae, like the glowing Angel of Christmas Future, heading our way. Jason clears his throat and looks set to give us some privacy.
“Don’t go,” she says, slender fingers circling his forearm. “I, um… I actually have a gift I’d like to give you now because it can’t really wait much longer. You’ll understand why in a moment.”
My socially awkward brother, who, despite his objections about having fallen into a rhythm with Mae, easily obliges when she takes his hand in hers, leading him into the living room.
“Where would you like me to sit,” he asks, suddenly feeling at odds in his own space.
“On the floor.”
“The floor ?”
Growing increasingly anxious, she looks to me for assurance. It’s okay , I mouth before she returns with a nod to Jason.
“I promise…” she assures, “… it will all make sense in just a few moments.”
Without objection, my brother does as asked, and Mae dashes out of the room in a flurry of ruby-red satin. The rest of us take a seat on the sofas, and with Marco and Allyson comfortably side by side, me on the single seat, I look down at Jason sitting cross-legged on the rug like he’s suddenly eight again.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” he warns.
It’s never been so difficult to keep a straight face. “All I’m suggesting is that six months ago, you would never have entertained the thought of…” My eyes dart to the floor and back to him in a way that will rile the last of his wits. “Just admit she’s gotten to you like she has the rest of us, so you can pull the stick out of your—”
“For fuck’s sake, there’s no fucking stick, Damon,” he replies through gritted teeth. “And no one has gotten to me.”
Marco is forced to turn away, clearing his throat to disguise his snickering while I resort to biting the inside of my cheek. Mae, fortunately, pops her head around the corner, granting a moment’s reprieve, but she’s the gift that keeps on giving.
“Um… Jason, is it too much to ask you to close your eyes?”
It’s Marco’s stifled outward snort that’s almost my undoing, my own eyes watering in an effort to remain composed.
Fuck. You! Jason mouths directly to me as if the words are poisonous darts. Then, diligently complying, he says aloud. “They’re closed.”
After a few moments, out walks Mae, and all jeering of my brother is forgotten because who I now see is the woman I love so dearly with a heart made from the finest of gold. One who only knows forgiveness and healing. Stopping eight feet shy of Jason, she carefully places his gift on the floor.
“Okay… open ,” she says, taking a hasty step back.
For a long, palpable moment, Jason simply stares at the twelve-week-old ridiculously cute Golden Retriever pup. He doesn’t move, barely even blinks, and when Mae looks at me with concern, I can only quietly reassure her that he’ll be okay. Just give him time. It’s Jason .
The puppy, however, decides there is no time to be wasted, and when seeing my brother at her level, the tail and bum start to wag in unison.
Still, he doesn’t move.
Choosing not to wait for her cue, the pup bounds forward on clumsy legs all the way until she climbs onto and settles on his lap. The contact is enough to wake him from his stupor, and while his face may be a picture of stoicism, his hardened eyes glisten.
He looks up to Mae, the words gravely from emotion. “For me ?”
Fighting her own tears, she nods, my brother now forever broken, but this time in the best way possible. He scoops the pup into his arms and kisses the top of her fluffy head, then she takes it upon herself to lick his damp cheeks, a love and undying loyalty already forged between the two.
Somehow, Mae knew it would be symbolic of a second chance, and she was right. My brother is a man who hasn’t had much love in his life, and what he has had, he’s admittedly sabotaged, partly out of self-loathing.
Returning my attention back to Mae, I watch as she breathes a quiet sigh of relief. Last night, it had taken all her strength not to coddle the newest addition to the family because she wanted the pup to bond with Jason first. She’d even asked Rosa to raid his dirty laundry for a T-shirt the dog could sleep with so she would learn the scent of her new owner.
Apparently, her stroke of genius worked.
Jason’s tough exterior has well and truly cracked as he rises to his feet, pup tucked comfortably into the crook of his arm where I imagine she’ll stay until outgrown. Stepping forward as a different man, he pulls Mae into an embrace, his shoulders shaking. Holding him tight in a way he’s probably been missing, a whisper follows which sees his shoulders shake that little bit more.
Yeah, she hasn’t ‘gotten’ to him at all.
~
MAE
“So, tell me…” Damon says, pulling me closer to him as we sit in the living room in front of the crackling fire. Night has fallen, and I cozy up to his warmth, his heart beating beneath my ear. “What were the whispered words that finally broke my brother?”
My finger pauses from tracing the neoclassical monochrome tattoos around his wrist. “I just repeated a little something he’d once said to me about Golden Retrievers knowing a good soul when they see one.”
“Hmm…” I hear the smile in his voice. “You have quite the knack for knowing what people need to heal old wounds.”
I’ve seen real monsters in the flesh and was fooled by them for far too long. They carried no pain or past trauma that made them hurt others. They were simply born that way, blending in with society, holding positions of power and influence, and even creating families. Yet, they woke every day with the worst intentions, wired to destroy those who fell victim to their sickening sociopathic desires. Then, there’s the rest of us. Those who fight because we’re harboring unresolved grief or anger that’s been left simmering.
“Well, it’s been a steep learning curve in recent times, and I’ve discovered that most people wear their wounds like armor. When they allow themselves a moment of vulnerability, they tend to lower their defenses.”
Damon’s fingers trail up and down my arm, a feather’s touch as he considers his response. “It does, however, take someone with a good heart to do something about it. What you did for Jason with the puppy, he’ll never tell a soul how much it meant to him, but just know you managed to pierce through the armor of a man who’s had his defenses up for twenty-six long years.”
Recalling the sweet interaction, I ask, “Do you think it was love at first sight?”
“So much so, he’ll be putting a stop to all overseas business trips for a long while to come.”
Shifting position, I study Damon’s handsome face and enjoy how giddy he makes me feel when his eyes lock onto mine. He always seems so enthralled by me, so invested in what I have to say and how I respond to him, like I’m the only other person in the world to whom he cares to devote his attention. Lifting my dress high, I straddle his lap. “And what about you, my lord?”
“Was it love at first sight?”
Hooking my arms around his neck, I nod.
“Mm… without a doubt.” His big hands smooth over my thighs and grip my ass, drawing me closer. “From the very first photo I took of you, I was a changed man.”
“Which was your first?”
“At the downtown farmer’s market,” he answers without hesitation. “It was an awful, godforsaken day, but the rain didn’t seem to bother you.”
I have a vague recollection of my time there because what I remember most is fleeing the house at five in the morning when Peter arrived home inebriated and on the hunt for a fight. It was a few weeks after he and Carlson had hunted me down at the cabin in Big Bear.
The rain, while most find it depressing, gave me the strength to get on with the day, biding time until it was safe to return home. But now, as Damon recalls the events, the morning at the markets takes on a whole new meaning, one I’ll happily exchange memories for.
“Your scarf…” His fingers graze my neck, and I shiver in delight. “It became unraveled in the wind, but the man at the flower stall you were visiting caught it before it flew away. While you were deciding between a bouquet of jasmines or lilies, he watched you like you were the one ray of sunshine on a stormy day he’d been waiting for.”
“And which did I choose?”
“The jasmines. To match your perfume.” With his thumb and finger under my chin, Damon draws my face dangerously close to his. “There was something poetic about you. I knew then that day, I would never be the same.”
Lips graze mine when I whisper, “You wanted to make me yours?”
“In every way.”
“Show me.”
In an effortless move, Damon stands, holding me high so my legs wrap around his waist.
“I’m going to take my time.” It serves as a warning that I’ll be at his mercy, and my longing sigh meets his kiss.
“I hope for nothing less.”
The rumble that reverberates from his chest sounds like a growl, and it only makes the throbbing between my legs that much more unbearable.
“Hold on, sweetheart.”
Circling my arms around his strong shoulders, Damon carries me through the house and past the pavilion, where I glimpse Marco and Allyson sharing a private moment. Then, cutting through the foyer as the front door closes, Jason, with ‘Sunny’ in one arm, holds out what looks to be a present.
“Mae, this was just delivered for you,” he says as if seeing his brother hauling me to a secluded room is nothing out of the ordinary. I guess, in a sense, it’s not.
“Thank you!” I accept the gift wrapped in an oversized pink bow, with no intention of opening it anytime soon. Moments later, with the office door closed behind us, it’s taken off my hands and absently set aside on the desk. With a wink that melts my core, Damon carries me into the gallery, the shelves silently returning to position, sconces already dimly lit, showcasing the artwork hanging on the walls, including that of the centerpiece, ‘D.’
Now, locked away from the rest of the world, I am completely his, and he is completely mine.
Setting me back on my feet, his thumb grazes my bottom lip. “Fuck, I love you.”
And he means it with a ferocity I, too, share for him.
My nails trail down his chest as I slowly step away. “Are you going to show me how much?”
“Every day for the rest of our life together.” There’s his desire to ravage me until dawn, and then there’s something else, a tone that hits a little different this time. Eyes trained on me, Damon reaches over to the shelf lost in the shadows and returns, holding before him a ring-size box.
Hand over heart, I feel it skip a long beat, my whisper lost within a gasp. “Damon…”
“I meant every word I said, Mae. When I saw you for the first time in person, I knew somehow, some way, I wanted to make you mine.” Pulling up the lid, the dim light glitters on the most exquisite ring I’ve ever seen, art deco in style, beautifully matching the person he knows so well. “I want you as my wife, my partner in every adventure, the mother of my children, the one I fall asleep with every night and wake to every morning. In every way I can have you.”
He pulls the ring from the case, takes my hand, and slides it on my finger to find a perfect fit.
Emotion swells and I cup Damon’s face, drawing his lips to mine. “I love you so much it hurts.”
The warm rumble of his voice is like a fire burning inside me. “Then kiss me.”
So, I do.
He matches my urgency and hunger for him, holding each other tight as if it’s our last time. His tongue drives me crazy, caressing mine and teasing me into wanting more. Then, with each step he takes forward, I follow until the back of my legs hit the chaise. Damon pushes my cardigan over my shoulders and down my arms before tossing it into the darkness. Next, he pulls the halter neck tie loose and allows the dress to fall to my waist, exposing my breasts.
“You are exquisite,” he murmurs against my mouth before trailing a path down my neck and chest to my hardened nipples, begging for his touch. He takes each into his mouth, sucking and biting until I’m about to break with the need to have him inside me. “Sit down, sweetheart.”
Doing so, I watch as Damon lowers to his knees, and taking his time, he glides the satin fabric up my thighs until it bunches with the rest around my waist.
“As much as these look damn pretty on you, they have to go,” he says of my lacy pink G-string. Again, he enjoys the show, slipping the thin fabric down my legs until they’re pulled free over my feet.
Then, he spreads me open.
Laid bare for his feasting pleasure, a blush warms my cheeks, and I turn away. Having none of it, Damon places a finger under my chin and gently tilts my face to meet his. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. There isn’t an inch of you I don’t worship.”
Without another word, Damon sinks his face between my legs, proving once more why he’s the master of primal passion. His guttural groan mixes with my gasp, a shockwave of pleasure tearing through me. Despite his instruction, I fall back on the chaise, completely losing myself against the intensity he serves. His facial hair against sensitive skin ignites an all-over body shiver, and I pant his name, begging for more. Damon answers my almost silent pleas, inserting two long and thick fingers inside me.
The moan that escapes my lips sounds feral and crazed, and it spurs him on, the thrusts deepening.
It’s happening .
My thighs clench, and the more I squirm when his tongue punishes my clit, the greater risk he has of being suffocated.
“Damon, I …”
He pauses but quickens his fingers until my nails are tearing into the leather chaise above. “You never gave me your answer, sweetheart.” He lingers, waiting for my response and it drives me crazy.
“Ask me…”
“Sweetheart, will you be my wife?”
His face returns to the throbbing between my legs, his teeth grazing over my clit and sending me into a wild frenzy.
“Yes! The answer’s… oh … yes! I’m yours.”