Page 25 of Christmas Mafia Prince
“That went well,” I say, passing one of the staff on my way toward the main staircase.
With his arms wrapped around my neck, Kill giggles (actuallygiggles). “That’s one way to put it,” he slurs his words, but at least he’s not blacked out. “Titus is such a little bitch.”
Nobody ever talks like this about the reigning champion of the Christmas hunt, and I laugh, giving my fake husband a smooch. “Finally, someone agrees with me! We’re a match made in heaven,” I tell him, climbing the steps to the second floor, where most of the bedrooms are located. I don’t live here anymore full time, but there are so many rooms in this house that nobody would even consider redecorating and repurposing my old room.
Kill arches up to kiss my neck so abruptly I lose balance for half a second, but he’s so adorable I don’t chastise him.
“Your mom is trying at least, but your dad—” He pulls back to look into my eyes, his own wide as saucers. “Oh fuck. Did I swear at your dad? I think I did. Oh, no… I’m fucking sorry.”
“I’m not,” I say, walking down the corridor upstairs, toward the room at the end, where I spent much of my child- and teenagerhood. “He deserved it.”
Kill’s expression softens. “If he tries to kill me, you’ll protect me, right?”
Poor boy, already so stressed, and it’s only the first evening of our stay.
“You’re always safe with me, baby.” I kiss his forehead and press my elbow on the door handle, opening the room I call mine, even though I didn’t get to modify it much to my own taste.
The maid has left one of the twin bedside lamps on, and it provides more than enough light for me to find my way to the massive sleigh bed. In the warm glow, entering the brown-and-green space feels like a walk through the woods at sundown. The velvet curtains are all drawn. The thick Turkish carpet is denseas moss under my feet, and the pillows will surely ensure restful sleep for us both.
I shut the door behind us with a gentle kick, and deposit my fake husband on the mattress, immediately making sure he doesn’t fall asleep in his slippers. “There’s an ensuite here,” I say, pointing out a door to the right.
“Oh, right. Pee. I wanted to pee.” Kill tries to rise, and while it takes him a while and the support of my arm, he does manage. “Samantha was nice, but I won’t let her steal my husband,” he laughs and pulls me down for a whiskey-flavored kiss as I help him make his way to the bathroom. I end up helping him stand straight, then carry him back to bed. I can see he’s starting to fall asleep on me, and there is something so innocent about it I stare at him while he stretches in the sheets, as if unaware what a work of art he is. I don’t know what it says about me that I like seeing him so helpless, but he reminds me of a kitten.
“We’ve overindulged, haven’t we?” I ask and pat his cheek.
“A little,” he admits with a groan. “Tell me not to drink tomorrow. But I didn’t fuck things up, did I?”
I shake my head and peel off his socks, then drop them to the floor. “You’re doing great. And now, you need to rest so you have the energy to continue tomorrow,” I point out and poke him in the nose. Because I can.
Well, really, it’s because I can’t stop myself from doing it when he’s acting all cute, sue me. It’s the first time I have a man in this bed, and I’ve made my coming out official. No more whispers about me being bisexual.
And it’s not just any man. Killian is such a walking contradiction. Both rebellious and submissive. Trying to escape me, yet clearly desperate to be loved. And he’s my type with the dark makeup around the eyes, the I-don’t-give-a-fuck style, the nose ring, and the ink I can’t wait to finally uncover in all its glory.
I’ve seen parts of him, but not all of him, and that’s about to change as I peel off his top. It seems that the snake theme features boldly on his skin. On one arm there’s a viper climbing all the way to his shoulder, while on the other, patches of snakeskin peer through artistically rendered tears. A smaller one originates on his collarbone and goes all the way to his neck where its head is pierced by a sword.
I expect a whole pit of snakes on his chest, but a surprise awaits me there. Flowers. Intricate floral ink scattered as if his body is a greenhouse for beauty. I lower my face to his heart and inhale the delicate scent of perfume. I never thought I’d enjoy scents typically associated with women, but on Killian, they just work. I want to eat him up.
“Do you… like what you see?” he asks as if I haven’t already told him how much I desire him.
I don’t mind needy. I want him to crave my affection and give it to him freely, so I kiss the soft skin and open his jeans next. “You’re insanely hot. I can’t wait to learn every inch of you by heart.” With that, I tug down his pants.
He gasps, and I spot that his dick is hardening in the jockstrap. A fresh pair, because after what we did in the changing rooms, he needed to clean himself up.
“Isthisthe marital bed?”
Another serpent greets me on his thigh and I run my fingers over it.
I nod but have other things on my mind now. “Why snakes? They’re everywhere on you.”
He raises himself on his elbows and looks into my eyes. He is hypnotic. I want to make him moan and squeal as well as kiss him all over. I crave to turn him around and see if the spanking he took so willingly has left bruises.
“As a symbol of rebirth,” he whispers, and it feels so intimate to be here with him in the darkness. “Every time I get my heartbroken feels like I’m dying. But then I just emerge into a new life. With new skin. Like a snake.” He still slurs a little, he’s drunk, yet sounds so poetic in his sadness. I’ve never met someone so raw and unpretentious. “I hope you’re not my next snake.”
My throat closes and I drop his pants before joining him on the bed. I stretch alongside his slender form and place my hand on his chest, watching, listening to his breath. Somehow, I know what I’ve been aware of for hours now—that despite still calling this relationship fake, I want to make this real.
He needs to be mine.
Whenever I read about men meeting someone and immediately knowing that person would be their spouse, it sounds like a lot of romantic bullshit, but now I get it, I really do.
