Page 81 of Noel
There’s a tree in the living room—way too big for the space because Holly insisted—and about a thousand twinkling lights.It’s perfect.
She’s perfect.
I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, a small velvet box burning a hole in my pocket, when the bathroom door opens.
And there she is.
Wrapped in red silk covered with silver candy canes, a silver belt tied loosely at her waist, hair tumbling in soft curls over her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mischief and something softer that gets me every time.
“You gonna be my present, Tinsel?”I ask, voice low, teasing.
She tilts her head, smiling that smile that ruins me.
“You want me to be, Kane?”
Fuck, I love it when she calls me that.
Can’t wait to call her Mrs.Kane.
“Yeah,” I rasp, getting to my feet—then dropping to my knees before her.“But first, I gotta ask you something.”
Her breath catches.
I reach into my pocket, pull out the little box, and flip it open.
The diamond winks in the Christmas lights, bright as the future I didn’t know I wanted until she walked into my life.
“Marry me?”I ask.
Her hand flies to her mouth.“Are you sure?”
“Not a doubt in my mind,” I say.My throat’s tight, my heart pounding.“You’re my home, Tinsel.Always have been.Always will be.”
Her eyes fill but her smile’s steady.I grab hold of her belt and pull her close.
From my position, I can almost catch the scent of her sweet arousal and now my cock is hard as steel inside my boxers.
I know my girl.Holly is everything good and sweet in the world, but she also likes it when I talk dirty, so I do.
“Say yes, Tinsel.Say yes to being my bride so I can kiss you already.So I can claim you.So I can eat that sweet pussy of yours, then I’ll fuck you till you scream yourself hoarse.”
Her pupils are blown, mouth goes wide, and she’s nodding before she speaks.
“Yes,” she whispers, and the word feels like a promise.
I rise, kiss her slow and deep, tasting laughter and tears and peppermint on her lips.Then, I turn us around and lower her to the bed, pulling her to the edge as I drop back down to my knees.
The world outside disappears—snow falling against the window, the faint hum of Christmas music in the distance.
Just us.
My hands slide to her waist, and I undo the belt, parting her robe—fuck me, she is gorgeous.
She leans up on her elbows, her big breasts bare and her legs spread apart.
“Merry Christmas, Noel.”
“Merry Christmas, Mrs.Kane,” I murmur against her thighs as I kiss my way to her hot, pink center.
