Page 30 of Christmas With The Kings
He reached for the edge of the blanket still twisted around my waist and pulled it free, baring me entirely to his gaze. I knelt up and looped my armsaround his neck without hesitation, dragging him closer, until the scent of his cologne wrapped around me like silk.
“Morning, Daddy,” I whispered, grin widening when his eyes darkened in the way they always did when I called him that. My tone was playful, teasing, but the intent was real.
Excitement bubbled beneath my skin, sweet and effervescent. This was his day. Our day. His gaze drifted lower, his easy smirk faltering as his eyes landed on the delicate choker still fastened around my neck.
He didn’t touch it, but his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes softened, his hand coming up to brush a single knuckle beneath the charm at my throat.
“You wore it to bed,” he said, voice low and reverent.
I nodded, suddenly shy under his gaze. Nik always saw everything,not only the surface-level mischief and flirtation. He could read me deeper than that. And right now, he wasn’t simply looking at a piece of jewelry. He was seeing the weight it carried. What it meant for me to choose to keep it on. What it meant for him, too.
His fingers traced the side of my neck, slow and soothing, as he tilted my chin up. “And how do you feel, baby girl?” he asked. “About wearing this?”
My heart twisted. That was always his way—ask, don’t assume.Even if the answer seemed obvious. I swallowed and whispered, “Safe.”
The corner of his mouth lifted again, this time not in teasing, but in pure affection. He leaned in, kissed my forehead, and pressed his palm to my chest right over my heart.
“You’ve grown so much,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you, baby. He may have put it on you, but the meaning? That belongs to all your Kings. And so do you. Your official one will represent all of us.”
“Yes, Daddy.” I said, lowering my gaze as my heart thrummed under his palm.
“It looks fucking beautiful on you.”
I blinked, and to no surprise, my eyes teared up. Strong arms lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around him, holding on for dear life as myemotions welled inside. His arms were strong and steady around me, one hand stroking up and down my spine.
I hadn’t meant to cry, but something about the tenderness in his voice, the way he looked at me, had undone me. Just a little. Footsteps approached. Alek. I felt his presence behind me. He didn’t speak right away, just reached out and placed a warm palm on my back, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles.
“Hey,” he murmured, and I turned my head, catching the softness in his eyes.
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my shoulder, then touched the clasp of the collar. Nik shifted, holding me a little tighter.
Alek’s fingers moved carefully as he undid the clasp and let the choker slide free from my neck. He caught it in his hand, brushing his knuckles along the back of my neck one last time before slipping it into his pocket.
Then he leaned forward, lips against the shell of my ear. “Don’t have too much fun without me, kitten.”
His voice was playful, but I could still hear the ownership behind it—hear how much he didn’t want to leave. I melted a little more into Nik’s hold.
He chuckled low in his throat. “Take care of our girl, brother.”
Nik’s eyes met his. “Always.”
After a moment he pulled back. “I’ve got the whole day planned for us,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with promise.
He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, the pad of his finger brushing my cheek with a tenderness that made my throat tighten. I blinked up at him, warmth blooming inside me.
“I need you to get dressed,” he said, his tone dipping into that Daddy edge that always made my stomach flutter. “Bring your jacket. You’ll need it. We’re heading out.”
I tilted my head, curiosity lighting up my features. “Out? Where?”
That slow, easy grin of his pulled at the corner of his mouth and made that single, sinful dimple appear. The one that had absolutely no business being so powerful. Butterflies exploded inside me like it was our first date.
“Breakfast and then, well, you’ll see,” he teased. “Go on now. Your clothes are hanging in the closet.”
I hesitated for a second longer, savoring the sparkle in his eyes, the weight of this moment. Then, I finally peeled myself off the bed, already buzzing with anticipation. The outfit hanging in the closet was classic Nik.
He had a type, and subtle wasn’t part of the vocabulary. A tiny pleated red plaid skirt hung neatly beside a fitted white blouse that tied in the front with candy cane ribbon. The fabric was soft, high-end, and sheer enough to tease. No bra. A cropped green cardigan with velvet buttons finished the top half.
It was going to work double time—keep me warm and to cover the fact that my nipples were more than likely going to make an appearance. And then there were the accessories: thigh-high white stockings with red satin bows.
