Page 64 of Christmas With The Kings
A low, strangled sound escaped me before I could stop it. “You’re out of your damn mind,” I muttered, grabbing her by the back of the neck and crushing my mouth to hers. The kiss was meant to shut her up. A quick reminder of who she was playing with—but the second she melted against me, it all went to hell.
Her taste hit my tongue, sweet and wild, and I didn’t want to stop. The world around us blurred; the crowd, the noise, everything faded until there was only her. My control slipped another inch when she whimpered into my mouth, the sound threading heat straight through my veins.
When I finally tore myself away, my breathing was a mess and she looked like sin dressed up in Christmas cheer. Of course, fate—or more accurately, my mother—had other ideas.
“Santa and Mrs. Claus! Breaks over.” Her voice boomed from outside the tent, half-exasperated, half-triumphant. “Our elves are about to mutiny, and I could use some reinforcements.”
Kinsley stiffened in my arms. She buried her face in my chest with a muffled groan. I couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled out of me.
I pressed one last kiss to her temple, then tilted her chin up so I could see those gorgeous, glowing eyes. “Guess we’ve been summoned.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, playful and bratty all over again. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Damn right I am.” I brushed my thumb over her swollen lower lip, smirking. “You look like you’ve been thoroughly kissed—and I’m the only one who knows why.”
Her blush deepened as the tent flap whipped open and my mother stuck her head inside. She took one look at Kinsley’s flushed face, then at me, and clucked her tongue.
“I don’t even want to know,” she muttered. “But you two best pull yourselves together. There’s a line of children waiting, and then you two are hosting the pizza party with story time.”
Kinsley groaned again, this time louder, and I laughed, tugging her hand into mine before leading her back out into the chaos of this event.
Throughout the course of the day, I took her to the edge and let her dangle before pulling her back. Over and Over. Through ice skating, through lunch, and even through the gingerbread build off competition in which we came in dead last. Thanks to me.
Each climb and subsequent descent had her brattiness rising to the top. Keeping her so tightly wound had her as sharp as my blade, and I loved every single second of it.
She was walking a fine line.
Kinsley
Later that evening as the sun was setting, he led me out of the tent with one hand at the small of my back, steady and warm. He’d removed his padding and beard and resembled my gentle giant once more.
Excitement coursed through me, and a hunger like never before for him, heated me from the inside out. I couldn’t wait to get him home and fuck him until we were both so exhausted we collapsed.
By the time we reached the car, I was practically vibrating with need. I could hardly contain myself, because in my head I was already shoving him against the door and ripping his Santa pants down. When he opened the car door, I noticed a brightly wrapped gift box. It was sitting on the passenger seat.
I gasped. “Another present? How? When? Ivan…”
“Get your sexy ass in the car, Mrs. Claus and we can open it.” His tone was smug, like he already knew I’d love it.
I did as he ordered and climbed in. The door shut with a soft thump, and for a moment, it was just me and the echo of my own heartbeat. My limbs still trembled. Every nerve ending hummed in tune with him.
It was stupid, really, how easily he could undo me. Even crazier was how quickly I went from brat to puddle under his gaze. He rounded the front of the car, slow and easy, every step confident. The headlights from another car lit him up in all his glory, and my heart twisted.
All big and broad and battle-scarred, with that smug little smirk he wore when he knew he’d had me in the palm of his hand. And the worst part?Hehadn’t even touched me. I bit my lip and let my head roll back against the seat, eyes still glued to him.
God, he was beautiful. And mine. And yet…my greedy little self wanted more. All ten thick, hot, throbbing inches of him. He slid into the driver’s seat, glanced at me once, and smirked again—that crooked grin that did all kinds of illegal things to my insides.
“Go on.”
I tore into the paper without a second thought and then lifted the lid. A purple velvet satchel greeted me. But from the shape, I knew it was a deck of cards. I hugged them still wrapped to my chest and squealed.
“Oh my God. Game night cards? A new deck. Awe.”
“Something like that. Take them out of the wrapper.”
Gently, I pulled on the tie at the top and slipped it open. I gasped, the air whooshing out of my chest. They were tarot cards of some type, but definitely not the kind you pulled at some witchy shop in Camden.
They were cold stamped giving it a shimmery 3D effect that was stunning. The backs of the cards were gilded, giving them a real luxe feel. The fronts were designed with dramatic full color renderings, each card named with something sinful.
