Chapter 32
Chapter thirty-two
Rolling over to an empty bed, I frown, realizing that it’s Christmas morning and my husband is nowhere to be found.
Looking at my phone, I see it’s almost nine o’clock, and I know for a fact that Blanche said under no circumstances was she appearing for stockings and unwrapping the presents that Santa brought until ten.
Slowly showering and going about my morning routine, I see fresh snow out the window and plan to cajole all non-pregnant people into a snowball fight later this morning after brunch.
Before I can dress myself, the door to our bedroom opens, and I squeak, wrapping my towel tighter until I see my husband come through the door with a plate of pastries and two steaming mugs of coffee.
His eyes darken as he places everything on the dresser, then locks the door behind him.
“Good morning, wife. Merry Christmas,” he says, approaching me slowly and appraising me like I’m about to be his breakfast instead of the pastries. Deciding to tease him, just a little, I drop my towel to the floor before moving to pick up a pastry.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” I say, biting into the flaky dough without realizing it’s cherry-filled.
The filling shoots out of the other end of the pastry and ends up dripping between my breasts as I gasp.
In a flash, Henry kneels before me, licking me clean.
Just as he’s pulling a nipple into his mouth and reaching between my legs, Blanche’s voice rings out from downstairs.
“Darlings, it’s almost time for stockings! I have mimosas!”
Huffing a long breath out against my belly button, I giggle at Henry’s frustration. He rises slowly to his feet and kisses my forehead before handing me my towel.
“Laugh now, little girl. We’ll handle you later,” he says. “Be downstairs in ten. Wear a skirt with a thong.”
Sticky and even hornier than I was last night, I pick out my festive ugly sweater and pleated skirt set and head down into the hustle and bustle of the morning.
With five minutes to spare, I make my way to Henry, who already has my plate fixed and a mimosa for me.
He’s burping LJ after a feed, and seeing how huge he looks holding the baby makes me want to kneel and present myself right here, family be damned.
He must see the look on my face because he bends to give me a quick, hot kiss.
“Eat,” he says, and I do. Brunch is delicious, and chatting with the family about Henry as a little boy at Christmas distracts me until it’s time for stockings and presents from Santa.
Everyone oohs and aahs over what Santa brought, and when the boys pull Blanche outside to show her the new luxury minivan they bought her, she loses it and hugs everyone.
“Oh my goodness, room for all my grandbabies,” she cries. “I’m so happy, and there’s room for more!”
“Hell no, Mom,” Margot yells as she goes inside. “I told you I’m taking a break after this! Maybe permanently!”
Ledger nudges Sloane, who immediately slaps his arm away from her. “Absolutely not, do not nudge me! Long break. Don’t even look at me, mister!”
We all go inside out of the snow and spend the afternoon eating far too much and lazing about, mostly just enjoying each other’s company and reminiscing about the Sinclair children’s childhoods.
While Jack and Ledger perform some dramatic reenactment of a gaming console feud from years ago, Henry and I head to the kitchen to put our dishes away and refill our drinks.
I can hear the girls howling with laughter as Blanche involves herself in the drama, but before I can rejoin them, I’m pressed over the kitchen island.
“Spread your legs,” Henry growls in my ear, and the clinking of his belt has me practically dripping.
“You cannot be serious,” I hiss. “Your family is on the other side of that wall.”
And they are. If they walked in, they wouldn’t technically see anything since we’re on the other side of the island, but it would be apparent what we were doing.
Asking if Henry was serious was the wrong thing to do because my feet are kicked apart, thong pulled to the side, and face pressed into the counter before I can even think.
He notches himself at my entrance, then uses the hand not pressing me into the counter to cover my mouth before thrusting into me in one long, steady push.
A scream isn’t the sound that tries to escape me so much as a long whoosh of air, the pain of the stretch magnified by the fact that he didn’t really prep me.
“I would’ve had you dripping had you not sassed me, little girl,” he says darkly into my ear, and if cozy Christmas Henry from yesterday had me forgetting who my husband is, well. He’s reminding me now.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I say underneath his hand. Either he hears it or feels it because his grip on me tightens, and I earn a kiss on the temple.
“I know you are, Kitten, and once I fill you up, your punishment will be over. You just have to take a little more.”
I can still hear his family in the other room as their story winds down, but Henry never falters, the pace of his thrusts increasing as we get closer to being caught.
Finally, with a low, tortured groan, I feel the warmth of his cum exploding within me.
I didn’t come, and I know that was part of my punishment.
Still, it’s nice to be full of him even if I don’t know how I’m going to avoid leaving a stain on my skirt or the couch.
Pulling out, he rights my thong and spins me around, the look in his eyes feral as he claims my mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue is dancing with mine, and he has two hands full of my ass when a low whistle breaks our spell.
“Hot damn!” Jack says, holding LJ in one arm and grabbing a bottle from the fridge to warm with the other. “Don’t mind me. Actually, Henry, mind if I watch? Your sister is extra freaky these days, and I can barely keep up with her, so I could use some ideas.”
The tic in Henry’s jaw tells me Jack is in mortal peril, and only the human shield of LJ is protecting him.
“Katarina, take the baby from Jack and handle his feeding, please,” Henry says. I comply, and Jack must be looking for a fight for how readily he hands LJ over.
As soon as the baby is safe in my arms, Jack makes a break for it, and Henry tears off after him outside and into the snow. By the time I’ve finished the feed, all three boys are wrestling in the snow, laughing and having what looks to be a grand time.
Sloane asks if I want her to take the baby, but I tell her I’m okay for now and end up sitting back on the loveseat. Before long, Blanche comes to sit next to me, not offering to take the baby, just giving me a smile.
“How are you doing, really, dear? I’m glad to have the two of you here for as long as you need, but I know how it is to prefer your own home. Henry has been beside himself that there’s no more information about what happened,” she says, kindly patting my leg.
“I’ve been holding up,” I reply truthfully.
“All the holiday cheer over the past couple of days has been such a nice distraction, and it’s been nice to spend more time with all of you.
I was honestly nervous, more so than at Thanksgiving since we’re all staying under one roof. But everyone has been so welcoming.”
Blanche gives me a soft, contemplative look when she replies.
“It’s easy to be welcoming to someone such as yourself, Kat,” she says cryptically, but when I raise an eyebrow, she explains herself.
“I always wondered what kind of woman, or man, would snare my Henry,” she says, eyes sparkling. “I assumed a woman, but really, anything can happen, and as long as my babies are happy.” She waves a hand dismissively and sips her wine.
“She’d have to be very strong, I always thought, to deal with him.
He’s got a great strength within him, but a softness, too, that nobody ever really sees.
Whoever captured his heart would be soft where he’s strong, but with a steel spine to hold him up when he needed it.
She’d have to be whip smart and willing to put him in his place now and then.
I had begun to worry this woman didn’t exist,” she continues, reaching over to rub her fingers through LJ’s blond hair.
“It’s an absolute marvel that the woman Henry needed was someone I tormented for years. And I’ll always feel terribly guilty for my part in your adolescent imprisonment, Katarina, please believe me.”
There are tears in her eyes, and I do believe her, but I sense a but coming.
“However,” she says, “the thought has crossed my mind that perhaps the fire of your upbringing was what steeled your spine for him. You’re absolutely perfect for each other, and it just seems impossible that he’s found such happiness. You have no idea what peace you’ve brought me.”
I eye her shrewdly, trying to reconcile the very kind things she’s saying with the fact that she thinks it’s marvelous that she scared my father into imprisoning me for nineteen years under her murderous threats.
What an interesting woman, Blanche Sinclair. Regardless, I choose the high road and smile.
“I love him, Blanche. He brings me peace as well. Being here with your family has been like coming home,” I say.
“They’re your family too, dear,” she replies, looking relieved that I’m not calling her out.
The boys burst in, having shed their shirts, and stand dripping in the entryway.
They're all striking, but my husband is a god.
His lush hair is wet with snow, my favorite piece roguishly flopping over one eye.
His chest heaves with exertion, dark chest hair trailing down his abdomen, happy trail pointing down. ..
“...for watching him, you’re such a natural. You’ll be wonderful with your own.”
I close my mouth, which had been hanging open, and hand LJ back to Sloane, who I think was thanking me for watching the baby.
Henry inclines his head to the staircase, and I follow him up, feeling the effects of earlier finally dripping down my leg.
He opens the door and allows me to enter first before closing and locking the door behind him and resting his forehead against it.
I’ve seen this body language before. He’s trying to stay in control.
I’d prefer he lost it.
“Daddy?” I say in my sweetest voice, and the whiny groan he releases goes straight to my core.
Oh yeah. He’s about to snap. Yes please.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, quietly starting to pull off my clothes.
By the time he’s turned around, I’m naked, and that damn piece of hair is in front of his eye again. At this rate, I might be the one to lose it.
“You’re very young, Katarina.” He cocks his head and regards me as he peels off his socks, pants, and underwear.
“I think both of us are very well acquainted with my age, Henry,” I reply evenly, curious about where he’s going with this. The appearance of his hard cock, heavy and already weeping, as it springs free from his briefs, gives me a fairly good indication of what’s in store.
“You’ve been coveting my brother’s baby all weekend, being a huge help to everyone where he’s concerned.
Giving Ledger and Sloane such a break that I think they’ll be sending you fruit baskets for a year,” he says, slowly backing me against a wall now, his hard length pressed up my stomach and almost between my breasts with our height difference.
Cupping my jaw, he traces my lips before holding me in place by the neck.
Looking down at me, he regards my hips, my waist, before giving me a devilish smile.
“I’m afraid it won’t be comfortable for you, carrying my babies,” he murmurs. “They’re bound to be huge. LJ was nine pounds. And you’re such a tiny thing,” he whispers against my ear, pressing hot kisses down my neck.
Gasping at his words and the sensations, I try to keep my mind in the reality of the moment instead of floating away.
“I think you’re underestimating me, Mr. Sinclair,” I rasp out. “And not for the first time, if you’ll recall.”
He pulls back from my neck to look at me with so much love and pride that I almost forget what’s being said.
“You’re absolutely correct, Mrs. Sinclair,” he whispers, giving me a quick, hot kiss before regarding me seriously again.
“I do think, based on your cycles, you’ll be ovulating soon. If you don’t want…”
“I want,” I say clearly.
Henry blinks at me owlishly for the better part of thirty seconds.
“I want your baby,” I clarify. “Please, Daddy. I know I’m nineteen, but you’re certainly not getting any younger…”
I squeak as I find myself thrown onto the bed, barely bouncing once before Henry is on top of me and inside me. He’s feral, absolutely unhinged in his pursuit of giving me what I want. I smile before giving myself over to the pleasure, happy to receive the best present of all.