Page 176 of Season of Gifts

He met Henry’s steady gaze and nodded slowly.They would hang this piece today, in the hallway between their bedroom and the playroom, alongside Jay’s portrait.If Alice was anything like him, seeing herself would be a game-changer.That was the moment he truly understood—believed—that Henry loved him with his whole heart, with an acceptance so profound that acknowledging it scared him.Henry’s painting had put Jay on the path to accepting himself.He couldn’t walk past that painting every day and still believe that he wasn’t beautiful, that he wasn’t loved, that Henry found anything about his submission shameful.

Henry strode toward them, dress shoes echoing on the hardwood.Jay spread his arms just enough to let Alice sag against their husband.Wordless and shaking, she scrabbled at Henry’s shirt and twined her arms around his neck.

“My sweet, sweet girl.”Henry cupped one hand around the back of her head and stretched the other to Jay’s cheek, patting lightly.His smile spoke of memory before he pressed his lips to Alice’s temple.“Such an exquisite challenge you were to capture.So much beauty, in so many forms.”

“But I didn’t…” Alice sniffled.“How did you…”

Jay’s portrait had come only after weeks of practicing stillness every evening.He would’ve noticed Alice disappearing for studio sessions, and that for sure hadn’t happened.“Yeah, howdidyou?”

Henry laughed, warm and gentle, his delight in surprising them so good and right that he glowed like a well-tended fire.“An inordinate number of sketches scattered across the past year.Moments when you slept.Moments when the two of you enjoyed each other at my direction.In your moments of distraction and focus on other tasks.You might be surprised how useful the mundane may be—opening the mail, brushing your hair, collapsing into a chair after a long day of work.All of you resides in these flowing lines, my love.”

Alice squeezed Henry so hard she raised up on her tippy-toes.The sleeveless dress showed the cords of her arms standing out.The tension in her rounded ass lifted into Jay’s fingertips, resting at her hips.“Thank you for this.Nobody’s ever…” She shook her head, her swallow audible.“Your soul is in those lines, too.You make me believe in love.”

The portraits promised permanence.Henry would never sell them; he would hang them on his wall and keep them always.One more claim binding them together so they could never lose one another, never forget who and what they were.

“You don’t have a portrait.”He hadn’t meant for the thought to leap out like that.But if his picture reminded him that he was chosen and cherished and that his service was his choice and not out of fear of rejection if he said no, then Henry should have one too, so he didn’t question their love for him, either.“Me and Alice could try, but…”

Alice, sniff-snorting, raised her face from Henry’s chest.“My art skills are strictly math based.”Leaning back against Jay, she studied Henry.“You’d make a spectacular equilateral triangle.Does that make me Picasso?”

“Indescribably better.”Henry gripped Jay’s shoulder.“Fear not.I have devised a solution.If you’d care to hear it?”

He clamored like a kid, Alice joining in.Their begging extensions ofpleeeeeasegrew fancier, a song with at least eight syllables.

“For our final gift this year”—Henry spoke, and they both quieted immediately, the only sound the shush of the furnace fan—“I have arranged a photo session with Avery for family portraits next month.Both those suitable for sharing with our friends and families and those…” Henry slow-blinked; a smile crept up his cheeks.“Less so.From those, I will have the basis for a portrait of the three of us.”

Permanent proof that they belonged together.This day just kept getting better.

Chapter eighty-five

Henry

Henryrelaxedintothecenter of the living room sofa, spreading his empty arms across the back.He was truly spoiled for choice this evening.Cast his gaze in front, and he might savor Jay’s smooth motions as he built them a fire.The protective apron Henry had insisted upon tying himself covered only Jay’s front.Delightfully bare skin invited appreciation from the collar at Jay’s neck to the curve of his ass above his folded legs.Each time Jay stretched forward to add kindling to the yellow-orange flame he’d coaxed to life in the fireplace, he revealed his bare ass in full—and the shining silver handle of the plug tucked inside.

But from the kitchen emerged Alice, equally enchanting in the dress he’d intended to be hers for the New Year’s gala at the club this night.Forgoing the event did not require denying himself the sensual enjoyment of the peek-a-boo raw silks dancing around her in midnight blue shadows.Knotted at the shoulders, the gathered fabric cascaded to asymmetrical points that flashed tantalizing hints of her glory from hip to ankle.Her smile, too, teased him, the sway in her hips growing stronger as she drew nearer.

She carried the tray he’d requested, laden with a pitcher of water, a trio of glasses, and a bowl of sugared grapes.Too sweet for his taste, but his dessert would be in the pleasure of feeding them to his spouses as they licked delicate grains of sugar from their lips.

Soft light from the lamps he’d left on low and their redecorated Christmas tree swept across Alice’s collar as she bent from the waist and settled the tray on a side table.The matching cuffs, both hers and Jay’s, lay nestled in the playroom dresser upstairs alongside Jay’s harness.

He extended his hand, fingers up in invitation.Alice sashayed toward him, slipping her hand in his, the contact as electric as a first kiss.Guiding her in, he slipped his other hand through waves of silk and cupped the flare of her hip.She stood centered between his knees, silhouetted by the flames of Jay’s making, their growing orange glow ringed with flickering edges.

“Soon you’ll be too warm even for this.”He released her hand and cradled both hips.Her dress lifted enticingly, thin silk parting to either side of her thighs.The first time he’d touched her in such an intimate manner, she’d willingly draped herself across the table at his command.He’d cautiously weighed each move, calculating the likelihood that she might startle or bolt.Now he lingered in appreciation, holding what was his.“Kneel for me, sweet girl.Arms up.”

Eyes sparkling, she folded herself at his feet as he raised the dress over her head.The outcome of that first dinner had been uncertain.But as he draped her gown across the back of the sofa, she knelt with her head unbowed, his collar circling her neck and his wedding band upon her finger.From great risks arose greater rewards.

Tracing a finger along her collarbone, he hummed quietly.Mahler’s Adagietto—love, longing, anticipation.He descended slowly, teasingly following the curve of her breast.Her breathing deepened, her chest rising and falling under the spell of a single finger.He tweaked her nipple.

Inhaling sharply, she shivered but crowded forward for more.Do that again,her bold stare entreated him.Had he been Jay, undoubtedly the words would have touched the air.

He pinched the other, holding a beat longer with greater pressure.

Her lips parted; her eyelids fluttered.Perhaps she clenched around the plug he’d placed to relax and stretch her, though only she could say for certain.

“Have I found a tender spot?”He allowed amusement to ripple into the question, her answer almost certainly assured.“Shall I stop?”

Eyes closed, she shook her head as he rolled both nipples between finger and thumb.“Don’t stop.Not tender, just…” Shemmmed as though she’d sampled something delicious.“Still zingy.”

He’d paired the clamps with Jay’s request to worship Alice this afternoon, alternating sips of pain with ever-increasing stretches of pleasure until she shattered at the stroke of his fingers.Given that he’d first primed her body with her request—a buffalo flogging—her highly sensitized response to touch despite their dinner break was unsurprising.And invigorating.

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