Chapter 12 #2
But of course, I should have known better. He could read the shift in my posture, the sudden drop of my shoulders, the way my fingers trembled. I barely had time to register the movement before he was pressing into me, his presence a shield against everything trying to rise up inside me.
His hand tilted my chin. “Hey.” His voice was soft but firm. Concern wove through the single word, laced with knowing.
The stove clicked off. He pushed the pan back and wrapped me in his arms, all warmth and strength. I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in, trying to steady myself.
“I’m being moody,” I whispered. “It’s stupid. I don’t know why I’m crying. And now I’ve gone and ruined our day. So typical of me, right?”
He pulled back, both hands cupping my face now. His thumbs swept under my eyes, careful not to rush the tears away. The gesture only broke me more because it was as if he was honoring them.
“Aww, come here, little love,” he said, taking me into his arms. After several minutes, he spoke again. “Look at me.”
His gaze was grounding, beautifully fierce in the way only love can be. “You haven’t ruined a damn thing. You hear me? This day started perfectly. Because you’re here. That’s all it takes. And you should know when I’m teasing you.”
The lump in my throat swelled. “Do you really have something planned?” My voice was thin, really nothing more than a whisper.
He smiled, brushing a final tear from my cheek with his knuckle. “Of course I do. You think I’m going to let my brothers show me up? It’s a competition, baby. You’re the judge. And I plan on winning.”
A laugh bubbled up through the tears. Unexpected, but welcome. I felt silly for having doubted him. “Hm, that doesn’t seem very fair.”
He kissed my forehead, then the tip of my nose. “Fair or not, it’s already been put on the agenda. Now, how about we eat so we can get the day started? I’m starving.” He pulled me in for another hug; his lips brushed the top of my head.
“Yes, Sir.” Leaning into him, I let the warmth of his words and his arms ease the momentary sadness.
We finished breakfast in record time, the air charged with that unmistakable buzz of something waiting right around the corner. I gathered a few dishes, ready to head toward the sink, but he caught my wrist and tugged me back toward him.
“Leave it,” he said, his voice low but amused. “We’re not wasting the morning doing dishes.”
I laughed, ready to argue, but he was already pulling me away from the table, his grip confident, his smile laced with intent.
He led me into the living room, where the Christmas tree glowed in the corner. As we approached, I spotted three gifts nestled beneath the branches that weren’t there this morning. Each one was tagged with my name. My heart skipped.
“You got me presents?”
He tilted his head and gave me a mock-scandalized look. “Uh yeah, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? It wouldn’t be Christmas without them. And we’ll need to open them before we start the day. What do you say?”
“Yes! I say yes.” I jumped up and danced around the tree, darting from one side to the other as I took in the gifts.
He shook his head, clearly entertained. “Just pick one.”
I spun toward the tree, bouncing on my toes. “But which one? I could pick wrong and then ruin it. Can’t you just tell me?”
“The big one,” he said, gesturing toward the corner box.
“Oh, good choice,” I teased, shooting him a smirk. “I do tend to favor the bigger ones.”
He let out a slow breath through his nose before chuckling and shaking his head. Seizing the package, I dropped to my knees and tore into the wrapping paper with the unbridled joy of a kid on Christmas morning. Inside were two sweaters—one for him, one for me.
I pulled his out and laid it flat. It read, I come in peace. Mine said, I’m peace.
I threw my head back and laughed deeply. “You did not.”
“Oh, but I did. And it’s true. Toss me mine.”
I flung his sweater across the room, catching a glimpse of his bare torso as he yanked his shirt off in one smooth motion. For a second, I forgot about my sweater entirely.
He looked up in time to catch me staring and smirked knowingly. “Eyes up, sweetheart. Or we’ll never make it to the next gift.”
That sounded very much like a challenge. One I couldn’t resist. With deliberate slowness, I tugged the hem of Nik’s oversized T-shirt over my head, letting it catch enough to make his eyes darken.
I stood before him in my sleep shorts. His gaze locked onto me—hungry, amused, completely unbothered by the way I was clearly baiting him.
I tossed the shirt aside and arched a brow. “Your move.”
His eyes dropped once more, then rose, fire blooming behind them. His mouth twitched like he wanted to say something cocky, but the words didn’t quite make it past whatever spell I’d cast.
“I see how we’re playing. Okay. Game on,” he said finally, voice a touch deeper than before. “Grab another one. But don’t put that sweater on yet.”
“Very well, my beloved,” I replied with a deep, theatrical, perfectly delivered curtsy before spinning toward the tree again.
The next box was smaller, square-shaped and neatly wrapped. I crouched down and lifted it. I half expected it to be something ridiculous and sweet all at once. That’s how he operated. Mischief wrapped in devotion.
“Should I be worried?” I asked, shaking the box.
“Always,” he said. “But also…never.”
The butterflies in my stomach took off again. There was mystery in his tone, but there was something about the weight of the moment too, that hit. It was silly, sweet, and intensely private.
I tore into the second package, grinning when I caught the shimmer of metal against velvet. Nipple clamps. Of course they were. But not just any clamps. These were stunning.
The little bells on the ends were a deep amethyst, my favorite shade of purple, delicate and polished, connected by a thin chain that looked more ornamental than cruel. Still, I knew better.
My fingers toyed with the chain, the cool metal kissing my skin.
I imagined how it would tease—pinch in the best way.
I gulped. The fantasy started—his fingers tightening the clamps, his gaze locked on mine while the chain swung between us with every movement.
The weight, the pressure, the helpless want curling inside me…
I exhaled, realizing how long I’d been holding the box. I placed it carefully beside the tree but cast one last glance at it. Maybe two. Okay, three.
“Kinsley,” Ivan’s voice cut through my haze, teasing. “You’re starting to make my cock jealous by the way you’re staring at those.”
I blinked up at him, my cheeks flushing. “Sorry. Easily distracted.”
“That’s one word for it,” he muttered under his breath, though the crooked smile on his lips said he didn’t mind one bit.
I reached for the next package, tearing into it with a new wave of curiosity—and stilled.
Inside, neatly arranged and perfectly color-coded, was a custom sensory play kit. A feather tickler, soft and elegant. Vampire gloves, worn black leather with fine points along the fingers—elegant but sinister.
A pinwheel rested beside them, cold and sharp even in its stillness. Then, there were the noise-cancelling headphones. The possibilities…Beneath those was a new tickler whip and, lastly, a dual-sided paddle that stole my breath.
One side was covered in faux fur, so soft I had to pet it twice. The other? Smooth, dense black leather that screamed intent. I held it up and ran it across my stomach, enjoying both sensations.
My beloved leaned in, voice low. “For when you inevitably misbehave.”
I arched a brow, smirking despite the flush in my chest. “I thought I was perfect?”
“You are. But even perfect girls need reminders.”
The adoration in his aqua eyes stole my breath and made my heart thump wildly. Damn, I was a lucky woman to be loved so thoroughly. My thighs clenched, heat spiraling down. Before I could say something wildly inappropriate, he called my name.
I scrambled to my feet, pushing the ribbons and scraps of wrapping paper away as I walked toward my beast. He held a beautifully wrapped silver box in his hand.
“Saved the best for last,” He murmured as he placed it in my hands. His eyes never left mine, and the intensity spoke volumes. This one was going to be trouble.
He lounged back in the chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, watching me like a tiger ready to pounce. The faint smirk on his lips was pure provocation.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I traced the bow.
“Of course I am,” he replied smoothly. “Go on. Open it, the anticipation is killing me.”
I pulled on the string holding it together, flipped the lid, and my eyebrows shot up. Lace, delicate and wicked, pooled in the tissue paper. I tugged the panties free.
“Bright red?” I said, arching a brow. “Really? The Reaper would not approve.”
His smirk widened into something sharper. “You are right about that, but it’s not his day now is it? And news flash, little love, I’m not scared of him. I’ve been able to beat him in a fight since year seven.”
“Hey now. No beating up the Reaper…I guess we could keep it a secret,” I said as I fingered the lacy material. It was exquisite and so soft.
“We could, but where is the fun in that. And let’s be real here, you can’t do Christmas without red.”
That made me laugh. “Oh my god, exactly. See this is why I love you so much. You get me, my beloved.”
His gaze lingered, and in it was a man who had every intention of ruining me. Heat spread from my face clear down to my toes. “That I do. But look inside there is more than a pair of panties in there.”
“Oh,” I said, surprise lacing my voice.
Just as I was about to dive back into the box, I noticed a tiny pocket sewn into the lace panties. Nestled inside the box were a sleek little bullet-shaped device and a ring that looked far too ordinary to be innocent. I glanced at him, one brow arched.
“You didn’t,” I whispered.
“I absolutely did,” he said, the words velvet and smooth.
Our eyes locked.
“That,” he said, leaning forward, his tone dropping into that low rumble that always made my skin prickle, “is where the fun begins.”
I turned the bullet over in my fingers, then pointed at the ring. “Explain.”
“Hand it to me.”
He gestured toward the panties. “The bullet slips into the pocket. Perfectly placed. You put them on, no one sees a thing, and you carry on as if nothing’s different.
Meanwhile…” He plucked the ring from my palm and slid it onto his finger.
The gesture was so deliberate and possessive my knees went weak.
I leaned on him for support. “I get to decide when and where to torment you.”
My mouth went dry, though I fought to keep my grin. “The ring is the remote.”
“Exactly. Works up to fifty feet. Disguised so no one else knows. And it’s monogamous—only responds to me. The Reaper and the Crow can get you one of their own if they want a turn.” His gaze locked on mine, steady, unyielding.
I laughed again, but it came out softer, a little breathless. “I thought what was yours—was theirs?”
His smirk turned slow and devastating. “It is, for the most part but I hear the Reaper got you a beginner collar. I took a play from his book is all.”
“Hmmm…well now that I think about it, the Crow needs to up his game a little. Although he did tie me up which neither you or the Reaper have ever done. So I guess that could count.”
“Did you like being tied up?”
“Yes, Sir. He did an excellent job of it.”
“Good to know. Now,” He murmured, leaning back again, casual, confident, ring glinting as he tapped the armrest. “Be a good girl and go get dressed for me so we can start our day. Your clothes are hanging in the closet.”
I traced his tattoo with trembling fingers and then launched myself into his arms, wrapping around him like he was the greatest prize of all.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his throat.
His arms wrapped tightly around me, one hand spreading across my lower back, the other tangling in my hair. I nuzzled into him, shameless in my nudity, shameless in my love.
“Now I really can’t wait to misbehave.”
His low laugh vibrated through both of our chests. “You’re so bad, little love.”
He smacked my ass, causing me to yelp. My heart wouldn’t stop fluttering, and my mind raced as I glanced over at the new toy he’d given me. My skin tingled with the memory of his teasing touch, and every part of me buzzed with affection for the man beneath me.
He lounged back, legs wide, relaxed like the king he was. I was still sprawled in his lap, bare skin pressed to his sweater-clad chest, soaking up the residual heat from the fire and his body. I didn’t want to move.
He brushed his knuckles along my hip, then tapped it twice. “I gave you an order, little love.”
I pouted instantly, sliding off his lap with a dramatic sigh.
“I think I’ve changed my mind. Maybe we should stay in.
Have you seen the bedroom? I could show it to you.
” I batted my lashes, letting my hand trace his tattoo in one last effort at persuasion.
“We could…have a quickie. Shower. I could suck you off…”
He raised an unimpressed brow and smacked my bare backside with a sharp thwack. I squeaked.
“As much as I’d love to stay in and wreck you,” he said, voice warm with mischief, “I told you, we’ve got plans. Move. Now.”
“Fine.” I huffed, grabbing the discarded throw blanket and wrapping it around myself in a swish of protest.
He smirked and folded his arms, watching me walk away with a gleam in his eye. My cheeks ached from smiling, and my heart felt so full it could burst. I bounced down the hall, humming to myself.
“Dashing through downtown London. In a black SUV. With my Blade by my side. A day for him and me. We’ll stop by the club. He’ll make my ass so bright. What fun it is to ride and play—with his monster cock all night.” I dissolved into giggles.