Page 126 of Absolution

“Ow.”

Christian chuckles. “Where.”

“Everywhere.”

He laughs. “I doubt that.” Nuzzling my neck, kissing the stinging marks from where he bit, he whispers, “Thank you.”

“You’re big,” I mutter, coming down from my high, still tingly all over, and all the way deep into my heart.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Mmno…”

“Not good enough.”

“Hey!”

“Just kidding, Ker.” He moves, pulls out and rises. “Don’t move.”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” I mumble, my face almost buried in the mattress.

His warm, strong hand cradles my nape, then he slips off the tie. I turn my head and take him in, gut-clenchingly beautiful in the soft light that still manages to make my eyes ache.

“Right back, hon.” He disappears into an adjacent bathroom that I hadn’t even noticed, water flushes, and then he comes back with a towel that he carefully presses between my legs. I follow him with my gaze. I can’t stop looking at him, admiring his toned body, his strong hips and thighs. He grins at me and falls down beside me. Sweat beads on his forehead and his chest heaves, but he looks happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen him.

He pulls out the comforter from under us and tucks us in, warm, tight and secure. The sheets smell clean and fresh. We don’t. The sensuous weight of the necklace, the metal pleasantly warm, reminds me of his gifts. Not only the jewelry, but Cecilia, love, passion, strength and protection. I have just about curled up on Christian’s arm when he gasps.

“Fuck!”

“What?”

“It’s Christmas Day.”

“So?”

“Her gifts. I gotta stuff the stockings.”

“I’ll help you.”

We wrap ourselves in new towels and tiptoe past Cece’s room. Luckily, she’s still a heavy sleeper. After having accomplished our goal, he steers me to his room, moving me in front of him, steering me to his own bed. My skin already longs for more of his touch and he doesn’t disappoint.

This time there’s no hurt. There is tongue and lips, and soft, careful lovemaking.

After, he pulls me into his arms again, but I push him away and motion for him to turn around. Then I wrap my arms around his waist and spoon up behind him, reveling in the warmth he radiates.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbles.

“Mm,” I mutter, already drifting.

When Cecilia barges into the room I feel like I haven’t slept at all. I rub my dry eyes and make sure the sheet covers us properly. It must be early. It’s still black outside.

“Mommy, Mommy, Santa was here!” She waves with a small box. Then she stares at us. “Mommy slepted Daddy!”

“Mm.” I wonder how we’re going to explain this, but our daughter doesn’t crave explanations. She wedges her little body between ours, on top of the sheet, and starts unwrapping the gift. Christian’s eyes meet with mine over her head and warmth spreads in my chest from the way he looks at me. Cecilia triumphantly waves with a small pink and golden jewelry box before she drops it on the bed and slithers away to find more gifts from Santa.

I lift the sheet. “We should go to her.” I tingle all over when a warm, strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me back down.

“Soon,” he whispers and presses against me, capturing my mouth with his. I cling to him as if for dear life and wrap my legs around his, ensnaring him. His dark eyes are filled with warmth and we lie in silence, listening to the sounds from the living room of paper tearing.

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