I woke before Lydia on Christmas morning, but I didn’t disturb her. I liked having her sleepy and relaxed in my arms. She cuddled close to me every night, and I held her fast. I’d never stop needing to touch her, to know she was near and safe.

Idly, I stroked my fingers through her silken hair. After a while, her gorgeous eyes opened. She closed them again on a happy sigh and snuggled closer to me, tucking her face against my chest.

“Merry Christmas, Master,” she purred.

The sound of my title on her tongue went straight to my cock. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“What time is it?” she mumbled against my skin.

“It doesn’t matter. You need to rest after all the work you’ve put into getting the house ready for our little girl.” I kissed the top of her head. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“No. I don’t want to sleep. I need to start cooking so everything will be ready for this afternoon.”

“I’ll put out cheese and crackers, and Clayton and Derek can deal with it.”

My friends were coming over for a small Christmas gathering/housewarming party. I’d be damned if I allowed Lydia to lift a finger to prepare for a party, considering how hard she’d been working lately. She’d barely had time for her art, and that wasn’t acceptable.

She laughed. “Rose and Sharon are coming too, remember? They deserve more than cheese and crackers.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “But only because Rose did so much for our wedding. As far as I’m concerned, Sharon is one of the guys and doesn’t need any pampering.”

“I think Derek would beg to differ. Don’t let him hear you talking about his fiancée like that.”

I sighed. “All right. I’ll be a good host and be polite to everyone.”

“I’m sure it won’t be too painful for you.” She pressed a kiss against my cheek. “You love them, really.”

I snorted. “Well, I’m making breakfast for you first. And we’re doing presents by the tree before they get here.”

She pressed her body closer to mine. “I thought you already gave me my present last night.”

“Can’t I shower my sweet sub with gifts?”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t know there were going to be so many gifts. I only got you one.”

I caught her lips with mine, silencing her protests. “You’ve given me our home, our lives together,” I murmured against her mouth. “That’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind that I got you something else. It’s for all of us, really.”

“All of us?”

She beamed at me. “You, me, and Adelaide.”

Adelaide. Our daughter. She was due to arrive in our lives in a week. We’d been waiting for so long, and now it barely seemed real.

“Oh, let’s open it now,” she gushed, her cheeks coloring with excitement. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.”

I wanted to keep her trapped in bed with me for a little while longer, but she looked so damn adorable that I couldn’t deny her.

“Okay, girl.” I guided her off the bed and landed a swift swat on her bare ass. “But breakfast first. I’ll meet you under the mistletoe.”

* * *

I managed to make eggs and bacon without burning anything; a minor feat. I’d never been much of a cook, but I didn’t want to fuck up Christmas morning breakfast. If Lydia was going to prepare a meal for our guests later, I’d see to her needs now. I’d be damned if I’d allow my friends’ visit to put any strain on her perfect Christmas Day.

“Open yours first,” I ordered, gesturing at the sloppily-wrapped package she held in her delicate hands. I’d done my best, but after a papercut and some cursing, I’d gotten a little frustrated and used a shit-ton of tape to secure the wrapping paper around the box.

She lifted her chin and shook her head, gracefully settling down on her knees and sitting back on her heels. The kneeling position was automatic for her, a comforting pose. She was more radiant than the Christmas tree lights that illuminated her face, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the fire and a little eggnog.

“You go first,” she countered, nodding at the beautifully-wrapped gift I held.

I grinned. “At the same time, then,” I declared.

She returned my smile and began to open her gift. At first, she picked at the tape. I watched her struggle with the sheer amount of it for a few seconds before she shrugged and ripped into the shiny green paper.

When I was content that she had made progress in unwrapping her own gift, I turned my attention to the package in my hands. I carefully peeled the paper back from the large rectangular box. By the time I started opening the box itself, Lydia’s soft gasp distracted me.

“Smith. This is beautiful. I used to have one exactly like it.”

I glanced up to find her stroking the deep purple pea coat with reverent fingers.

“I know.” My voice came out a bit rougher than I intended, a swell of emotion overwhelming me.

When I’d first taken Lydia into my care, she hadn’t known who she was. She hadn’t been able to remember her own name or recall anything about her identity. Then one day, she’d drawn a breathtaking picture of herself standing at the edge of Lake Michigan, wearing a coat just like the one I’d bought for her. That was the day she first remembered that she was Lydia.

Her blue-green eyes began to shine, and she blinked hard. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She dashed away a stray tear with a little laugh. “Finish opening yours. We were supposed to go at the same time. You cheated.”

I cleared my throat, pushing down my own intense emotions. I shrugged, unrepentant. “I thought you could use a new coat to keep you warn while we show our daughter the city.”

Her laugh hitched on a little sob this time, and she wiped away another tear. “Will you open yours already? My makeup is going to be ruined if you keep making me cry.”

“No more tears, then.” I reached out and brushed the last of the wetness from her cheeks.

When I was satisfied that they were dry, I finished opening the gift she’d given me.

The corners of my eyes stung when the finely-detailed drawing of our new home was revealed. My wife had somehow managed to capture the physical properties of the house while imbuing it with a sense of warmth and love.

Home. This was our home. Together, forever.

“What do you think?” she asked, her voice a touch high with anxiety. I realized I’d been staring at the framed drawing in silence for a long minute.

I carefully set it aside and closed the distance between us. My fingers tangled in her hair, and I pulled her in for a fierce kiss as I lowered my body over hers. She shifted compliantly, settling onto her back and wrapping her legs around my hips in invitation. My hard cock pressed against her thigh, aching to get inside her perfect heat.

I released her mouth and took a moment to drink her in. The twinkling lights from the Christmas tree danced across her skin in silvery starbursts, lending her delicate features an ethereal glow.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I murmured. “And all mine.”

“So you like your present, then?”

“More than I could ever say.”

She rolled her hips against me. “Show me, then. I need you, Smith. My Master.”

I reached between us and freed myself from my jeans on a hungry growl. I shoved up the hem of her dress and found her wet and ready for me. I crushed my lips against hers, devouring her ecstatic cry as I thrust into her in one harsh, possessive stroke.

The fire crackled beside us, a background buzz to her throaty moans as I claimed her, hard and deep. I wasn’t handling her gently, but neither of us needed gentleness right now. We came together in raw, passionate need. My desire for her held a keen edge, driving me close to madness. I had to have her, mark her, own her.

Because she owned me, body and soul.

Her elegant fingers closed around the back of my neck, curling up into my hair as she held me impossibly closer, clinging to me.

“Mine,” I snarled against her lips. “All mine.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Yours, Master.”

Our pleasure crested simultaneously, our bodies as closely bound as our souls. I pumped into her, emptying my seed inside her as her pussy fluttered around my cock. She screamed out her bliss, and I caught the sound on my lips, devouring every drop of her ecstasy like a starving man.

I gripped her hips and rolled, keeping myself seated deep inside her but positioning her so she could lay against my chest. Her fierce hold on me softened, her fingertips playing through my hair, rubbing along the stubble that covered my jaw. I touched her in return, drunk on lust and her.

After a while, she let out a happy little sigh and pressed her cheek against my shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Master.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

* * *

The Facetime call with Lydia’s family had gone smoothly, even though they expressed that they wished we could be with them. They understood that we wanted to spend our first Christmas in our new home, and they didn’t press the issue. They were coming to visit in a few weeks, anyway, so they weren’t too upset about it.

My own mother had been even more regretful to miss the holiday with us. Ever since our reconciliation at the wedding, Mom had called a couple times a week to catch up, and she’d come to New York to visit us twice. I tried to conceal the depth of my emotions when it came to our reunion, but I couldn’t fully hold back signs of my joy to have her in my life again and to have finally, undeservedly earned her forgiveness for my past transgressions against my family. But enough painful years of estrangement had passed that we both wanted to mend what I had broken. I would be forever grateful to Lydia for bridging the gap—hell, the chasm—that had separated me from my mother.

Now that family communications for Christmas Day had been fulfilled, it was time to celebrate with our second family—my friends and colleagues from the Bureau. They were the closest to family I’d had for years, and while I gave them hell on a daily basis, Lydia was right: I loved them, really.

Delicious aromas of a decadent feast wafted my way, but Lydia wouldn’t allow me in the kitchen. She was probably right to ban my more clumsy hands from the preparations, but I still felt a little useless sitting in front of the fire, watching a cheesy action film. I’d watched it enough times that I almost knew the dialog by heart at this point, so it did little to distract me from the idea of my wife dressed in her prim pink apron in the kitchen. I indulged in a brief fantasy in which she wore nothing else, and I fucked her over the kitchen table after a thorough spanking with more creative cooking implements.

Even though I’d had her only an hour ago, I was still hungry for her.

But I respected her wishes, and I’d allow her to prepare to entertain our guests. I knew it brought her pleasure to please others, so I didn’t want to deprive her of that particular joy. She was a sweet submissive through and through, but she was my partner in life. I’d always respect her choices and couldn’t deny her anything.

The doorbell rang, and I gratefully rose from the couch to greet our guests. I didn’t have to let them know that I had been anticipating their arrival, though.

“Nice of you to show up,” I drawled when I opened the door to find the two couples—Clayton and Rose, Derek and Sharon—huddled against the cold on my front porch.

“Let us in, asshole. It’s freezing.” That was Sharon, foul-mouthed and saucy, per usual. But a smile tilted her lips, and I knew she was just as happy to see Lydia and me as we were to host her in our new home.

“If you’re going to be rude about it, I don’t think I should be so accommodating.”

“Smith.” Clayton said my name calmly, but in a definitive tone that let me know he wasn’t amused that I was keeping Rose out in the cold.

“Fine,” I announced, making sure to keep the word clipped as I stepped aside to admit them. I tried and failed to suppress the smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth.

“Thanks,” Rose said sweetly, as warm as ever despite my outwardly dickish behavior. She knew me well enough to see past the façade. “Merry Christmas!” she gushed, slipping out of her stylish red coat and hanging it in the closet, already completely at ease in our new home. Unlike the rest of the group, she’d visited a few times to help Lydia put the finishing touches on the décor. Rose had her own creative eye that matched my wife’s, and they’d become close friends over the last few years.

Derek helped Sharon out of her coat and rubbed his sub’s chilled arms, shooting a frown in my direction. We might have been friends for years, but he didn’t always appreciate the fact that I treated his fiancée like one of the guys. He liked to coddle her, but she wouldn’t appreciate that kind of treatment from me. She wanted to be respected in the field office as an equal, and she was a formidable agent.

So I simply slightly inclined my head toward Derek in a small, silent apology. I didn’t want to piss off the owner of Decadence, my favorite BDSM club. He nodded in return, and the tense moment passed.

A harsh sob sounded from the kitchen, and I immediately abandoned my friends, consumed by concern for Lydia. When she was distressed, everything else in the world fell away. She hadn’t lapsed into despair in several months, but I feared her dark memories would never fully leave her psyche.

I rushed to her, running into the kitchen.

When I burst through the threshold, I found her clutching her phone to her chest, tears streaming down her face. But a wide, beatific grin illuminated her features.

“She’s here,” she breathed, as though she couldn’t quite believe it. “Adelaide. She’s a week early. She’s healthy and whole. She’s perfect.”

My heart stopped, squeezed, and thundered back into action. “We have to go to the hospital,” I announced, not caring that we would abandon our hungry guests.

I turned off the stove and oven and gathered Lydia up into my arms, holding her close and taking her lips in a fierce kiss. When I finally pulled away, I realized I was shaking. I tried to still my trembling fingers, but it was a lost cause. Pure joy overwhelmed me, coursing through my system with ruthless, visceral intensity.

“Our daughter is waiting for us,” I said hoarsely, ignoring the warm wetness that streamed down my cheeks.

A delighted laugh bubbled from my wife’s chest. “Let’s go meet her.”

* * *

Our friends followed us to the hospital. They practically vibrated with the same excitement that had claimed my entire being. My little family was every bit as overjoyed to meet my daughter as I was. Kennedy was on his way to meet us, and Lydia’s parents and my mom would be arriving as soon as possible.

I couldn’t think about them at the moment. My entire world centered on my beautiful wife, holding our daughter. Our precious Adelaide. She was even more perfect than I ever could have imagined. And so small, even in Lydia’s petite arms. I was almost afraid to hold her, worried I wouldn’t be capable of the careful tenderness my wife possessed.

Lydia’s cheeks were wet with tears as she cooed over our daughter, telling her how beautiful she was and how we would love her more than anyone and anything in the world.

Staring at them, I knew deep in my soul that she spoke the truth. Nothing could have prepared me for the rush of joy at seeing our daughter in Lydia’s arms.

Lydia finally tore her gaze from Adelaide, and her gorgeous, shining eyes found mine.

“Do you want Daddy to hold you?” she whispered hoarsely, speaking to our daughter in hushed, reverent tones.

Daddy. I was a father. I had a bigger family than ever. Adelaide and Lydia were my entire world now.

Gingerly, Lydia transferred our baby into my arms. She felt so tiny in my hold. In that moment, I vowed to do everything in my power to protect them and ensure that they were perfectly, blissfully happy.

Lydia pressed a tender kiss against my lips, cradling our daughter between us and linking us all, surrounding us with love.

I was the luckiest man in the whole damn world.