Page 21 of Christmas With The Kings
Her eyes snapped to me, lighting up with amusement. “Are you serious?”
I raised a brow. “Deadly.”
“You want me to dress up like a Christmas elf? A little role play, my King? Color me surprised and not at all disappointed. But, um…where is your Santa outfit? You’ll need one…” Her innocent eyes darted around the room.
I couldn’t hold my laughter in. It poured out of me. God, I loved this woman so much. “I had a little something else in mind, but duly noted for next year.”
“Next year?” She cocked her head to the side as a rush of surprise, and if I had to bet money on it, anticipation was already kicking in.
“Yes, kitten. Next year for sure. Take a closer look. There is a clue in the outfit.”
“Oh,” she said, and she drew her bottom lip into her mouth and reassessed the situation. “An apron?” Her hands flew to her hips, and her brow furrowed. “Is this about your monthly ‘need to have’ cookie habit?”
“Maybe?” I teased, enjoying the way her mind raced to conclusions and how well she knew me.
Sue me. The woman made the best damn cookies I’d ever had in my life. So yeah, that shit was on the monthly schedule.
“So let me make sure I’m on the same page. You brought me all the way here, decorated an entire house just so I can makeyoucookies? We’ve got to work on your sharing skills, my King.”
“Wrong,” I said, stepping behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. “I want you to teachmehow to bake them. That way, when we go home, I can challenge my brothers to a bake-off.”
She turned in my arms, blinking up at me.
“A bake-off? You against the Crow and the Blade?” she asked, a sweet grin tugging at her lips.
“Yup. Wanna know what the winner will get?” I teased.
She nodded eagerly.
“An extra night with a scene of your choosing—in the playroom. Whatever your little heart desires.” I traced the edges of the robe that lay against her upper thighs.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she drew in a deep breath. “And who’s judging?”
“Why, you, of course. Who else?” I brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned in, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I want you to taste everything I make. Give me real-time feedback.”
Her cheeks flushed, but the sass never left her expression. “So you’re saying I get to be in charge today?”
I smirked. “In the kitchen, yes.”
“And in the playroom, right? I’ll get to be in charge in there too?”
“You’re funny, kitten. You get to be in charge ofplanningthe scene. You know the rules we have for the playroom. Your Beloved,” I paused and kissed her left cheek. “Your Daddy.” I kissed her on the right cheek. “And your Master,” I growled, my lips hovering over hers. “Are always in charge in that room.”
I sealed the statement with a bite to her bottom lip. Then, I slid my tongue into her mouth, tasting her. Everything else faded as our lips closed over one another. After kissing her breathless, she pulled away. Gulping, she stepped back and reached for the tie holding her robe closed. My cheek twitched as she twirled the satin around her fingers.
“Maybe you’d like to help me change?”
I growled under my breath. “If I do, we’re not leaving this room until morning.”
“So that’s a no?”
“That’s a fucking hell no, little baker. I’m trying to behave here. To show you I love more than this sexy, to-die-for body of yours. I’ve got plans. Loads of them.”
“Like what?” she asked, her eyes bright with excitement.
“I have an entire night planned. The Great British Bake-off show is cued up. We’re ordering dinner in. I have a special gift for you as well. A pre-Christmas gift, if you will.”
“Thank…thank you, Alek. You don’t know how much that means to me.”
