Chapter 31
It was almost ten the next morning by the time I woke up, Leena’s little cast resting on my chest. I opened my eyes to find her sprawled between us—one hand in Mikko’s shirt, a foot in his armpit, and the rest of her in a position I wasn’t sure she’d be able to recreate.
But seeing those grey-blue eyes gazing back at me…
It was the best sight in the world.
“Good morning, baby.” I leaned over and kissed her on the nose, making her giggle around her pacifier.
The sound was enough to wake Mikko, his hand sliding across the bed and finding mine again.
“Merry Christmas, girls.” He kissed the side of Leena’s head, then leaned over her and kissed me too. “A guy could get used to waking up like this.”
Right as he said it, Leena ripped her pacifier out of her mouth and launched it directly into his eye. I barely held back a laugh, covering my face with the blankets while he blinked rapidly. Leena turned to look at him, then crawled up onto her knees to kiss his face.
“So cute, and so mean,” he said, tears still streaming down his face. “Just like your mama.”
Before we knew it, she scooted toward the edge of the bed, ready to make a dash for it. Mikko hopped up first, hands out. I was proud of him for letting her do it by herself, even with the memories of last night still fresh in our minds.
“Feet first,” Mikko said, and Leena turned onto her belly, sliding down until her feet touched the ground.
“Can we bubble wrap her?” I asked. “Or maybe she needs to wear a helmet. How small do they make hockey helmets?”
He let out a shaky laugh, then grabbed Leena’s hand before she could sprint down the hallway without us. “I’m rethinking a two-story home. This feels dangerous.”
We all showered, then went downstairs to the sound of Christmas music playing in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Beckett, Emmy, Jace, and Mason were back again, having finished opening presents with Lori.
Emmy stood when we walked into the room, walking toward me. “Hey. How’s everyone feeling?”
Leena chose that moment to let out a delighted shriek, running straight toward the playhouse waiting for her by the Christmas tree.
Mikko and I had bought it weeks ago, and the guys must have found it in the trunk.
I was glad they went ahead and put it together, because I took one look at that instruction manual and decided that was someone else’s job.
“Well, she seems fine,” I said.
Emmy chuckled. “You’d be shocked how quickly kids forget the moments that took years off their parents’ lives.”
I dropped onto the couch next to Lori, laying my head in her lap. “Merry Christmas, Lori.”
“Feeling better?” she asked, brushing a hand through my hair.
I nodded, watching the boys help Leena unwrap the tiniest set of pink hockey gear I’d ever seen, complete with a helmet. Mikko grinned, holding it up to show me, and I smiled back.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“How long do you think we’re going to watch her?” Mikko said.
We both stood inside the bedroom, shoulder to shoulder, while Leena dozed on the crib mattress we’d put on the floor next to the bed. This nap was longer than usual, but after the night we’d had, we weren’t about to wake her.
“I don’t know, maybe the next sixteen years or so?”
He laughed, then turned to look at me. “Sounds reasonable.”
That future played out in my mind, filling me with happiness. It still felt a little surreal that this wasn’t temporary between us anymore, but maybe it never had been.
I stood up on my tiptoes to kiss him, the quick kiss turning into more.
Mikko’s hands slid under my shirt, the warmth of his palms spreading across my bare skin like he’d been waiting for permission all morning.
One kiss turned to two, then another, his tongue sweeping across my lips until I opened for him.
Every emotion from last night still felt raw and close to the surface, like a post-game rush—relief and love and the leftover fear of everything that could have been tangled together until I pressed closer, fists curling in the front of his shirt.
He must have felt the same, considering he groaned against my mouth and backed me toward the wall.
“Did you bring the baby monitor?” I asked between kisses.
“Already set up,” he said, lips trailing down my neck. “Phone’s in my pocket.”
“Good. We’re home alone, and I want to stop thinking for a few minutes. Think you can distract me?”
I tugged on his shirt, dragging him into the ensuite bathroom and closed the door. Mikko pulled his phone out, opened the monitor app, and turned the volume all the way up before setting it face-down on the counter. Then he was on me again.
The kiss this time had no patience left in it. His hands pushed my shirt higher while I fumbled with the button of his jeans. We were half-dressed and already desperate when I dropped to my knees on the cool tile.
“Is this my Christmas present?” Mikko said, his gaze molten when I looked up. “You on your knees for me?”
“Don’t get used to it, husband.”
That was a lie—the look on his face while he watched me pleasure him was its own kind of power, turning me on far more than it had any business doing. My hand closed around his cock, sliding once before I replaced it with my mouth.
Mikko’s head tipped back, the long line of his throat showing while his fingers threaded into my hair, holding me but never controlling. “Fuck, Shannon, that feels good.”
Heat pooled in my belly, and I clenched my thighs together. I stayed there longer than I meant to, the power of it grounding me after everything that had cracked open between us. When I took him even deeper, he hissed.
“Up,” he groaned, pulling out of my mouth. He hauled me back to my feet, spinning me to face the mirror.
“I need to see you,” he rasped against my ear, sliding a hand up my shirt. “Need to watch my wife’s face while I make her come all over my cock.”
I reached a hand behind me, holding onto his neck while he tugged my pants off and pushed my shirt up enough to slip a hand under my bra.
“Needy much?” I asked, but my breathless voice said I was right there with him.
“For you? Always, rakas.”
He pressed me forward until my hands braced on the counter. The mirror reflected everything—his larger frame behind me, the flush already high on my cheeks, his arm banded across my stomach to keep me close.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me, wife.”
Even if he hadn’t said it, I couldn’t look away, not when he watched me like he wanted to remember this moment forever.
He entered me in one slow, deep thrust that stole the air from both of us. I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to contain the moan that wanted to slip free.
Mikko’s hand slid over my mouth, holding my head back against his chest. “I should have known you couldn’t be quiet, hm?”
I nipped at the center of his palm in answer, his hips stuttering momentarily before his thrusts came harder.
He set a steady, rolling pace that drove deeper with every stroke, the hand across my stomach holding me exactly where he wanted me so he could hit the exact right spot to make me unravel.
The mirror showed every shift of muscle in his shoulders, the tight clench of his jaw, the way my own expression kept slipping between need and something softer.
I pushed back to meet him, matching the rhythm until the quiet of the bathroom filled with the sound of skin on skin and the soft, muffled noises I couldn’t quite hold back against his palm.
His free hand slid lower, fingers finding my clit and circling with such precision, my knees threatened to give out.
The dual sensation—deep, relentless thrusts and the precise pressure of his hand—pulled a broken sound from my throat.
His eyes stayed locked on mine in the mirror, watching every flicker of pleasure cross my face like it was the only thing that mattered.
“That’s it,” he murmured against my ear. “Let go for me.”
My climax hit harder than I expected, rolling through me in long, shuddering waves.
I bit down on his palm again as it crested, and that was enough to tip him over with me.
His hips snapped forward then stilled as he followed, forehead dropping to my shoulder with a low, rough groan that vibrated against my skin.
We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, his palm still loosely covering my mouth until I turned my head and kissed the center of it.
He eased out of me carefully, turned me in his arms, and kissed me again, slower this time.
“I love you, Shannon.”
My thumb trailed across his jaw, memorizing this moment. “I love you, too.”
“Shower,” he murmured against my lips. “Then we should get ready for the party before she wakes up.”
I turned on the water, then slowly removed the last of my clothes and looked over my shoulder. “Coming, husband?”
Mikko stood there, halfway to hard again, a hand brushing over his mouth, then followed me into the steam.