Page 26 of Christmas Mafia Prince
Because he is perfect, and I don’t want to let him slip out of my grasp.
“Only if you’re also a snake, and we can wrap around each other.”
Killian smiles and puts his thigh over my leg. “I like that,” he mutters and goes in for a kiss that is as sweet as it is hungry. His fingers climb my arm, and my heart thuds in excitement when he presses his whole body to mine, pretty much naked and shameless. I remember how that sex toy pushed in and out of him, how he begged for release and followed instructions like a good boy.
And now we’re making out in my childhood bed like two horny teenagers.
“I likeyou,” I say, and while it’s the most cliché thing I could have responded with, he chuckles and drunkenly rubs himself against me. Which would be an amazing start to sex in any other situation, but I don’t want to risk that he doesn’t remember any of it tomorrow, and peel him off me. I already miss his needy lips.
“No?” he asks with the most disappointed expression. I almost want to give him my dick to suck just to make him happy. “But it’s what husbands doooo.”
He’s fucking adorable, but I’d rather wait and have all of him than have this intoxicated version now. “Not when one of the husbands is very, very drunk, baby,” I tell him and kiss his cheek. I reach across his body and pull up the comforter, covering him with it. “Don’t worry, you’ll get as much dick as you demand tomorrow.”
“But you’ll stay and cuddle?” Kill asks, and when I look at him right now, I can hardly imagine he’s capable of swearing, theft, and fights. My little brat.
My dark sunshine.
“Of course I’ll stay. It’s our marital bed, baby. I know you require a lot of attention,” I whisper into his hair as we settle in the sheets, ready to doze off. Even now, with the addition of booze, his scent will keep me addicted, always longing for our bed and the warm touch of his hands.
I get hard pressing my dick to his freshly-spanked ass, but then a wave of tenderness hits me when he cuddles his back to my chest, lets me close him in my arms, so perfectly at peace. He knows what I am. Not only did I tell him, but he saw me kill a man. A man he knew.
And still, no matter how monstrous I am, his breath settles, and he falls asleep, like he trusts me to be his shepherd. I never felt like this before. No man before him saw all of me.
It’s in this moment, seeing the fragile pieces of him that I decide that I will protect him, and all that we have, with my life. And after the holidays, when the dust settles, I will marry him and make him mine for real.
Chapter 10
Killian
Iwakewithahangover that isn’t as bad as the one I usually nurse after cheap booze, but I still don’t feel like sunshine and rainbows. Damen’s nowhere to be seen, which causes my chest to constrict with anxiety, but then I find a lovely note explaining that he’ll be back after dealing with some important business. He even calls me sweetheart in it, like I hadn’t cause a massive clusterfuck last night. The short letter also explains a doctorwould tend to my needs if I called the number mentioned at the bottom.
It seems like overkill at first (also, what family holiday has an on-call doctor?), because last night was far from the first booze-fest in my life. But when a shower and ample water fails to make me feel better, I cave and decide to make use of any luxuries provided. Because, why not? I deserve a little pampering if I’m to be Damen’s trophy husband.
A cheerful young woman appears at my door within five minutes, and while I have misgivings about letting her hook me up to an IV drip, in the end I decide to go with it and spend the next two hours receiving a revitalizing massage, eating rice porridge with cucumbers over my eyes, and listening to soothing music.
Is this what the rich and powerful do whenever they overindulge? I would become a part of this family just for that, because by the time I’m left on my own, I’m feeling better than on my average non-hungover mornings. Problem is, I don’t really know what to do with the energy buzzing inside me.
Were I back home, there would be people to meet, a cat to play with, hobbies to do, but without Damen to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, I don’t feel comfortable enough to leave the room. Which, by the way, is like something straight out of a European palace.
Gold leaf shines on some of the reliefs decorating the walls and ceiling, and the bed is so tall there are little steps provided on one side. It’s both ridiculous and charming. The wall across from me is covered by three massive paintings that must have tickled Damen’s imagination when he was growing up, because the panels depict naked men locked in battle. Some do wear helmets, or pieces of fabric that do nothing in terms of covering the important bits, but whether the title of the triptych isTrojan War,Argonautica, or refers to some other mythological conflict,the theme is only an excuse to show hot guys being grabby with each other.
The rest of the room is bigger than my apartment. It’s no less impressive than the bed I’m sitting on. All our luggage and pretty bags filled with our purchases appeared in the morning as if brought by Santa himself. A lush Turkish rug covers most of the floor, and I feel like a princess taken away to a castle when I look out at the grounds through one of the tall windows. A winter wonderland extends farther than the horizon, but the grounds closest to the mansion are the most magical, with a giant Christmas tree and a vast maze farther away. The hedges making up the maze are covered with snow in a way that makes me think of Narnia. I half expect a lion to peek out from the forest.
When I spot a helicopter approaching the house, I wonder if it’s Damen’s sister and her side of the family joining us for the rest of the holiday season. As far as I know, his uncle's wife and his cousins will be arriving as well. Maybe I’ll get to present myself to them in a more dignified fashion than last night’s appearance. I hope the doc isn’t a gossip, because she did get a glimpse of the bruises on my spanked ass.
I’m by the French door opening into a snow-dappled balcony when a decisive hand knocks on the door. When the doctor visited me, I ended up stripped and covered by a sheet, so now I dash for the bed to cover myself before I mumble a way too quiet, “Come in!”
I don’t get enough time to consider whether inviting someone in without knowing who it is might be a mistake, because Damen steps inside, putting an end to my worries.
He looks like a million dollars in a cashmere sweater with a discreet dark green Christmas tree at the front, and I find myself staring at him, unable to utter a word.
“Doctor Cho let me know you’re feeling much better,” he says, locking the door with a twist of the key. The gesture should frighten me, but it only gets me excited. I vaguely remember that we cuddled last night, and I did wake up naked, but I want to see all of him sober. I want every detail in the cool glow of morning light reflecting off the snow outside.
I pull the sheet around me. It’s not like me to feel shy. Especially not around a man who fucked me with a dildo in the backroom of a boutique, but here I am, intimidated by his beauty. If he told me that he really is a prince, I’d believe him, because he carries himself with the aura of someone who owns everything in this room. Including me.
“Hi. Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t wake up when you did.”
He waves it off. “Nonsense, I don’t expect you to wake up at ungodly hours just because my father likes dealing with important business before the sun comes up. I’m happy you got to rest after last night,” he adds and cups my face, pressing our lips together.
