Page 66 of Caged in Desire
Sitting beside her, I feed her small bites since her hands are full with the baby. Eventually, the Pictionary game becomes less raucous and fizzles out with everyone lying around eating and halfway paying attention to various Christmas movies on TV.
I’m scratching Katarina’s scalp with my arm around her shoulders when I notice both Jack and Ledger, across the room from each other, lying in Margot’s and Sloane’s laps and softly talking to their bellies. Having Katarina in my life has changed me already in so many ways, but fuck if seeing my brothers and their families doesn’t prove exactly how much I was missing out on before.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt the flames of jealousy lick up my spine as acutely as they do at this moment. Perhaps as a child, watching Ledger and Jack act more like twins than friends or even brothers. Or maybe when they would play as Father pulled me into another lesson or meeting. Now, though, is an entirely new level of need. Taking a deep breath, I move my fingers from my wife’s scalp to LJ’s, gently petting his soft blond hair and marveling at the sleepy coo he makes before sucking on his pacifier twice and falling back asleep.
God.
Katarina leans her head further back onto my arm and turns to smile sleepily up at me.
“I can take him if you’re tired, Kitten,” I say softly, offering her a break.
She shakes her head even as her eyes close.
“Absolutely not. I don’t get to see him enough as it is. I need to stock up on snuggles while we’re all here together,” she replies.
Have I really been hoarding her from my family to the point that she thinks she doesn’t see the baby enough? I’ll have tomake it a point to reinstitute weekly family dinners at the estate. Potts would have a field day with everyone coming over more often.
LJ stirs a little more, and Katarina whispers reassurances that I don’t understand, murmuring softly in Russian. She’s so good with him, and with his blond hair and gray eyes, he could easily pass for ours.Fuck, I wish he was.
Fully enveloped in my daydream now, I think about what she would look like pregnant, how if she thinks I smother her now, she’d have another thing coming. Flashes of possibilities fly through my brain. Wheeling her into a hospital suite, her struggling through the pain of labor to bring our child into the world, sleepily gazing at me with a smile while our baby lay on her chest.
I feel a tear trail down my cheek as LJ decides to make his presence known, and I’m snapped out of my fantasy. His plaintive wail makes Sloane and Ledger’s heads snap up immediately, and my brother practically teleports across the room to pull him gently from her arms.
“No offense, guys, but I think it’s feeding time,” he explains, giving me a knowing look and understanding smile like he knows why I’m trying to hold it together. He takes the baby as he and Sloane say their goodnights and head upstairs.
“I think he’s right,” Jack says. “I’m peckish too. Feeding time. Come on, Princess.”
Rolling my eyes as my wife betrays me by laughing at Jack’s crass joke aboutmy baby sister,I give her a tiny pinch. She swats me back, and in our tussle, she ends up straddling me on the loveseat. Mom went to bed a bit earlier, so we’re alone in the room, the soft glow of the tree creating a perfect Christmas ambiance.
She notices my tear streaks, of course, and concern fills her beautiful face.
“Henry? Are you okay?” she murmurs, and I give her a soft kiss before pulling her into me in a crushing hug and burying my face in her neck. Taking a few minutes to compose myself, I breathe her in as she rubs tiny, caring patterns on my neck. Finally pulling back, I take a moment to look at her.
“I love you,” I say quietly. “I love you so very, very much.”
Her lips turn up at the corner as she traces my cheekbones and my browline, following a path down my cheek and underneath my bottom lip.
“I love you too,” she whispers. “Will you take me to bed?”
I stand with her in my lap, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I turn off the lights before moving toward the stairs.
“You can have the bathroom first for your bedtime routine. I might take a quick shower before we—”
She interrupts me as I put her down near her side of the bed, then turn to shut the door behind us.
“I’m not tired, Henry. Lock the door,” she says, and my brain doesn’t compute what she means.
“You wanted to sleep…” I turn around to find her pajamas on the floor, leaving her in a red corset, stockings, and a garter belt.
“I never said a word about sleeping. I asked you to take me to bed,” she purrs, climbing onto the bed and kneeling, elbows down and ass high in the air. “Please lock the door, Daddy.”
Following her instructions and reminding myself to spank her later for being a brat, I lock the door and unwrap the best present I’ve ever received.
Chapter thirty-two
Rolling over to an empty bed, I frown, realizing that it’s Christmas morning and my husband is nowhere to be found. Looking at my phone, I see it’s almost nine o’clock, and I know for a fact that Blanche said under no circumstances was she appearing for stockings and unwrapping the presents that Santa brought until ten. Slowly showering and going about my morning routine, I see fresh snow out the window and plan to cajole all non-pregnant people into a snowball fight later this morning after brunch. Before I can dress myself, the door to our bedroom opens, and I squeak, wrapping my towel tighter until I see my husband come through the door with a plate of pastries and two steaming mugs of coffee. His eyes darken as he places everything on the dresser, then locks the door behind him.
“Good morning, wife. Merry Christmas,” he says, approaching me slowly and appraising me like I’m about to be his breakfast instead of the pastries. Deciding to tease him, just a little, I drop my towel to the floor before moving to pick up a pastry.
