Page 48 of Santa's Dark Secret

There’s no doubt about it. She loves it here. She’s found peace, and yet I hate that despite how close we are, we’re still so far away. I need to hold her, need to feel her lips on mine, need to hear the way she whispers how she loves me, but most of all, I need to taste her.

With dinner out of the way, I start clearing the table, and just as Mila moves to get up, my father puts his hand over hers, keeping her seated. “How are you, dear?” he asks, searching her eyes for the truth, a skill he’s always been so good at.

She smiles, and I go about my business, clearing the table while doing everything I can to listen in on their conversation. “I’m happy,” she tells him. “Really happy.”

“But something is missing,” he says. “I sense it in you. Your heart is still hurting.”

Mila glances back at me, her gaze locking onto mine, and I don’t even bother to pretend I’m not listening. “It is,” she agrees, her words tearing me to pieces as she breaks our stare and turns back to face my father. “Don’t get me wrong, I love your son, and I wish there was some way I could simply put everything behind me, but I can’t shake this feeling that I was tricked into it. Yes, I asked for this, but I didn’t have all the information. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to the life I’d built for myself, and despite how much happier I am here with Nick, I still find myself missing the life I had. New York was where I grew up. It’s wheremy parents are buried, where I became the woman I am. I feel as though I’m mourning a part of myself.”

My head hangs low between my shoulders, not having realized how deeply she felt about this. It’s so much more than I had imagined. I never considered the attachments she had to that place. I just assumed she was ready to leave because she hated her job and was lonely. She was a broken version of herself, and while that part of her is mended, I fear all I’ve done is broken a different piece that I had no right to break.

“I understand,” my father tells her. “Life is . . . fickle. It surprises us in ways that sometimes we’re not quite ready for. I think if you truly gave this place a chance, truly opened your heart to Nick, you will see this is right where you belong. You will find your happiness here, just as I have with Nick’s mother. As for missing your parents and your home, I fear that will never change, no matter where you are in the world, but I can guarantee that it will eventually get easier, and one day, you’ll be able to look back on those memories with fondness.”

“I sure hope so,” Mila whispers.

With that, my father gets up from the table before walking behind Mila’s chair and placing his hand on her shoulder. “Do try to find it within yourself to forgive Nick. You both deserve to have everything with each other, and between you and me, Nick is better with you here. His heart is brighter, and I don’t want to see what happens to him if you were to choose to go back to New York.”

Who would have known my father was such a wingman?

My parents leave, and when Mila makes her way into the kitchen, intent on helping me clean up, all I can do is walk into her and wrap her in my arms, watching the way she sinks into me. Her arms wrap right around me, and as she rests her head against my chest, silence falls over us.

She hasn’t allowed me this close in a long time, and now that I finally understand what’s going on inside of her, that it’s so much more than just being angry that I knocked her out and brought her here, I need to try harder.

“I’m sorry, Mila,” I murmur, my lips against her hair. “I didn’t realize it ran so deep. If I had known—”

“Don’t do that,” she whispers. “Don’t regret bringing me here. I want to be here. I want to be with you in this place. This is my home now. I just need to work through some things first. But your dad is right. I need to figure my shit out, and the sooner I can do it, the better.”

OCTOBER

My cock springs to life. These past few months have been fucking torture, and what’s worse, Mila knows exactly what she’s doing to me. Apparently, she made herself some kind of deal that she won’t break during these twelve months, and she’s determined to stick it out. Even if that deal was made out of anger.

She’s not angry anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to spread her legs and let me have my wicked way with her. She wants to make me suffer right up until Christmas when she makes her final decision to stay or go.

Fuck. Just the thought of her leaving cripples me because what happens then? If she walks away and decides she can’t forgive me for taking her away from her life, what am I supposed to do? Will she keep wishing me back every year? Do we go back to the way things were when I would sneak into her bedroom just to watch her sleep on Christmas Eve? Not being able to reach outand touch her will fucking destroy me, but not as much as she’s trying to destroy me right now.

I listen to her sweet moans coming from my bedroom, moans I would recognize anywhere. She whispers my name, knowing damn well I hear everything. She didn’t even bother closing the door because she doesn’t intend to hide this from me. Her intentions are clear—she wants to fuck with me. She wants to drive me wild with need, and it’s more than working. Hell, I’ve had to jerk off eight times in the shower this week alone, and it’s only Wednesday.

“Nick,” she groans again, and this time, I can’t fucking help myself.

Reaching up to the one cupboard she can’t reach in the living room, I scoop up the little present I made for her earlier this week and make my way to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway, my shoulder propped against the frame as I simply watch the show.

Mila sits up in our bed, her spine straight against the headboard, head tipped back, and those beautiful eyes closed. She’s wearing a black lingerie set with her knees up and her fingers pushing the material of her thong aside as she works her sweet clit. Her hand roams over her body, cupping her full tits before rolling over her pebbled nipple, and my fucking mouth waters.

I’m stiff as a fucking board, desperate to be inside of her, to be the one working her clit, to be the one with my mouth all over her body, but for now, I get my satisfaction out of simply smelling her sweet arousal in the air.

The very sight of her could bring gods to their knees, and as I fight the impulse to race to her and give her what she so clearly needs, I settle for clearing my throat instead. She opens her eyes slowly, not startled in the least, which proves that she knew I was here all along.

“Something you need, sweetheart?” she questions, only ever using that endearment whenever she’s being sarcastic.

I grin and hold up the bright purple dildo, the exact replica of the red replica of my cock, something that took me three attempts to make. During the first attempt, the mold putty was the wrong consistency, and I didn’t figure it out until after I’d stuck my dick into the tube. The second time, I took it out too early and destroyed the mold, and the third? Well, the third was fucking perfect.

“If you’re going to sit in here and fuck yourself while pretending you don’t desperately want to be a whore for me, the least you can do is ride my cock.”

Her eyes light up seeing the purple dildo, and I toss it across the room, watching as her hand snaps up and plucks the silicone shaft out of the air. She’s hungry for it, not having had me since Christmas Day, and this right here is the perfect substitute.

Mila wastes no time, crawling up onto her knees and settling over the purple cock, and as she lowers herself down, her cheeks become flushed, and I can’t tear my gaze away from the sight. She tilts her hips back, giving me the perfect view of the way she takes the purple cock, and when she rises back up again, the silicone is drenched in her sweet arousal.

My cock twitches in my pants, and I have no choice but to adjust myself.

---