Page 4 of A Tycoon's Christmas

The change in pace was exhilarating, the intensity overwhelming my senses. I could feel the coiling tension building again, that familiar ache for release drawing closer with every powerful thrust. Andrew’s hands gripped my hips tightly, guiding me back onto him with a rhythm that was almost frantic now, and I knew he was just as desperate as I was.

“Come for me, Amara,” he growled against my ear, his voice thick with command and desire. “I need to feel you.”

Those words, so raw and demanding, pushed me over the edge. My body tightened around him, muscles clenching as my orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. I cried out his name, the sound raw and filled with need, as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me, every nerve in my body alight with sensation.

Andrew followed immediately after, his own release crashing over him. His thrust grew erratic as he buried himself deep inside me one last time, his low groan of satisfaction filling the room. I felt the heat of him, the deep connection between us in that moment as he poured everything, he had into me, both physically and emotionally.

For a long moment, we lay tangled together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breathing ragged and uneven. Andrew’s chest pressed against my back, his heart pounding in time with mine. His arms wrapped around me tightly, as if he couldn’t bear to let go, and I relished the warmth and security of his embrace.

“I hate being away from you,” he whispered after a few moments, his voice soft and full of emotion. “I hate missing out on moments like this.”

“I hate it too,” I replied quietly, still breathless from everything we’d shared. I turned in his arms so I could look intohis eyes, and the intensity of his gaze made my heart ache with love for him. “But we’ll get through this, Andrew. We always do.”

He kissed my forehead gently, his touch tender now, a stark contrast to the wild passion we’d just shared. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m so damn grateful that you’re mine.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with love for him. “And I’m yours, always.”

We fell asleep like that, tangled together in the quiet intimacy of the night, wrapped in each other’s arms.

CHAPTER THREE

AMARA

Three days had passed since Andrew left for Tokyo on business, and I missed him more than I cared to admit. The children missed him too. Austin asked for his dad at least once a day, and each time, it twisted a little knife in my heart.

I glanced down at the glossy pages of Christmas magazines spread out before me, a sea of red and green decorations overwhelming my desk. I leaned in, my pen poised over my notebook, determined to capture every spark of inspiration that might make this Christmas special.

“Mommy, what are you doing?” August’s voice piped up from the doorway, his blond head peeking around the corner.

I smiled, amused that he wasn’t buried in a book for once. “Planning a special surprise, sweetie. Want to help?”

His bright eyes lit up as he walked over, and Austin soon followed, hot on his heels. “Surprise? For Daddy?”

“That’s right,” I said, lifting Austin onto my lap while August climbed up beside us. “What do you think Daddy would like for Christmas?”

August giggled and pointed at a picture of an enormous inflatable Santa. “That! Big Santa!”

I laughed, imagining Andrew’s face if he came home to find a giant Santa in the penthouse. “Maybe something a little smaller,” I suggested, flipping through the pages. “How about we make some decorations together?”

The boys nodded enthusiastically, and love spread through my chest. This was what I wanted—to create memories and traditions that would last a lifetime. As I circled a picture of a gingerbread house kit, I could almost smell the sweet aroma of baking cookies and hear the laughter of my children as we decorated together.

My eyes landed on an image of a winter wonderland-themed party, and suddenly, I could see it all coming together. Twinkling lights, soft falling snow, and the New York skyline as our setting… it was perfect.

“What if we turned our home into a magical winter place?” I asked, my excitement building.

“With snow?” Austin clapped his hands.

“And presents?” August chimed in.

“All of that and more,” I promised, jotting down ideas as fast as they came. Ice sculptures, a hot chocolate bar, maybe even a visit from Santa himself…

As I planned, I couldn’t help but think of Andrew. He was always working, always focused on the next big deal. This time, it had taken him away so close to Christmas. My heart ached with the hope that he would be home soon, that he’d remember what truly mattered—our family, our love, and this precious time we had together.

I hugged the boys close, breathing in their sweet, childish scent. “We’re going to make this the best Christmas ever,” I whispered, as much to myself as to them. And I meant it. No matter what it took, I would create a Christmas so magical, so full of love that even Andrew wouldn’t be able to resist its pull.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANDREW

---