Page 25 of A Stolen Christmas

“Too many to count, but I did replace some of them,” I said in my defence.

“This is all too much, Saul,” she murmured as she put the thong back in the box of assorted underwear.

“No, it’s not,” I said, pushing another four boxes towards her.

“But I didn't buy you anything,” she said, glancing at the boxes.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” I murmured as a filthy thought of her lips wrapped around my cock penetrated my mind. “Open the rest up,” I rasped out because I knew my patience wouldn’t last long with the many presents she still had left to open.

There were books, clothes, underwear, sex toys, a black pearl and diamond-chained pendant. I intended to present her last gift to her later in the day. I took a few pictures of her because she looked adorable in her Hamish themed pyjamas.

“I need my phone to message my friends and family,” she said as I put my phone down.

“Sure,” I said, but I didn’t tell her I would supervise her messages.

I glanced at the time and roughly calculated how long it would take until I reached my parent's house. I messaged my mum and Seth, wishing them a happy Christmas and telling them when I would be over. I asked Seth to let my mum know I was bringing Sirah over.

If I had told her, she would be all over me like a rash. Hopefully, with Katya’s news coming out, my mother wouldn't harass me about a timescale for her grandchild. There was no telling, though, because she might become greedy for more.

Chapter 18

Sirah

In the end, Saul had brought a black bin bag for all the discarded wrapping paper and packaging. He had definitely hacked my phone and laptop for him to have bought me items that I had been considering buying. Currently, I held a clear glass dildo in my hand. He had left the worst to the last, a whole box full of sex toys, from a tame blindfold to painful looking gem adorned nipple clamps. There were at least six various dildos and vibrators. I’d lost count.

“Exactly how many dildos or vibrators do you think I need?” I asked curiously.

“I wasn't sure, but if I had a vagina, I’d want a variety,” he said with a frown, marrying his forehead.

I waited for him to laugh, but he was serious as he continued to mull over my question.

“What on earth did you buy your girlfriends?” I asked, astonished that he thought a woman would need so many.

“The last girlfriend I had was in Uni, which was more of a casual arrangement,” he said as he rubbed his beard.

No wonder he was clueless.

I glanced at the Christmas family tree he had on the fireplace.

“And how many children have you planned for us?” I asked dryly while nodding towards the fireplace.

“Three were a starting point. We can add more if you want,” he said with a devilish smirk. “You might as well start a name spreadsheet for the one that’s in your egg right now.”

I gasped at his words and threw the glass dildo at his head, but his reflexes were too quick. He caught the damn thing before it connected with his thick skull.

“Just think, by next Christmas, there will be three of us. Sirah, Saul, and baby Winthorpe,” he continued.

I hesitated to scrutinise his features and wondered what an Okira/Winthorpe baby would look like. He was a handsome man, and I loved his dark brown eyes. Compared to Ryan’s icy blue eyes, Saul’s eyes had warmth and depth to them. I blinked when Saul began to rub his hand over his mouth and beard.

“Do I have crumbs in my beard?” he asked anxiously. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the small gesture of vulnerability was endearing.

I swallowed down my emotions and shook my head. The baby would be okay if he or she didn’t inherit his warped sense of perception. I looked away from him to consider if madness was contagious because I sat in front of his morbid black Christmas tree, imagining our non-existent baby.

When he took me upstairs, he opened up a door, and I peered into his walk-in wardrobe. It was a whole room within a room. I slipped past him and walked around the pristine wooden fixtures. One side was empty, with just hangers on the railing. The other side was full of suits and an array of polished shoes.

“I cleared that side for your things,” he said as he opened a drawer.

I twirled around at his words, but he was busy pulling out two matching Christmas jumpers. The closet space was forgotten as I stared at the black and silver sweaters.

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