Emily

Christmas, Five years later

“WHERE IS YOUR BROTHER?” I ask Alyce after she comes out of the bathroom from brushing her teeth.

“Reading nook.”

I sigh. Where else would he be?

“Okay, go get your PJs on. We’ll read The Night Before Christmas in a few minutes.

“And Santa will come?”

“After you’re asleep he sure will!”

She runs to her room to change, and I find my son, Alex, in the cupboard under the stairs. Where he pretty much always is. Only tonight, his daddy is in there with him.

“What are you boys up to?” I ask, pretending I don’t see the cookie crumbs all over their blanket fort.

My husband, the biggest kid in our house, gets worse at Christmas. Making up for the childhood he didn’t have, he’s become more Griswold than even my mom. And now that our kids are three, he’s having even more fun since they understand more and Santa stopped making them cry.

I don’t begrudge him his fun, either. He’s been working hard on getting his degree while also doing volunteer work and sometimes working on car restoration with my cousin. He’ll graduate this spring, but there is talk of a master’s degree.

We get the kids settled on our laps for our tradition of reading the classic Santa book. I love the wonder shining in their eyes. I also love the spark I see in Charlie’s eyes. The sooner we get the kids to sleep, the sooner we get to work on making another baby. Or two. As my family seems to be determined to do. After all, my youngest sisters will be going to the same school as my kids someday. It’s crazy.

Tucking the twins in is easier tonight because they are aware that only sleeping children get presents, but it’s a good hour before I am sure they are really asleep.

“Is it time?” Charlie asks.

“It’s time.”

The world tilts as I find myself slung over his shoulder like Santa’s pack. He’s slapping my ass the whole way into our room until he tosses me into the middle of our bed.

“Gonna put a baby in you tonight, Mrs. Warner.”

He kisses down my neck, scraping his beard across my collarbone because that seems to be my Kryptonite. Off go our clothes. I want my man. I want him inside me. I love the way he fills me up. But he likes to drive me insane first.

I turn my head when he goes at my neck, sucking and biting me there. When I open my eyes, I see the picture of us on the nightstand. It’s from our honeymoon. We’re kissing on the beach—the same beach where I was filmed all those years ago. The same spot, pretty much.

He loves me. He doesn’t judge me. He understands when I need solitude and when I need his company. I have my own reading nook, though we call it an office and it’s pretty much the contents of my old apartment’s living room. The rest of our house is all things we purchased together.

And sex. Oh my God. We have sex all the time. Often when we shouldn’t. I have become insatiable and have heard zero complaints about it. I just need him all the time. And it feels so good to know that it’s okay. It’s safe for me to love him that much. To love his cock that much, too. It doesn’t make me a lesser person to have desires. To want to be desirable.

Charlie pushes my tits together and starts sucking them into his mouth, as much as he can. He’s enamored with my tits, despite how much trouble they caused me.

They like him just fine, too.

He reaches between us and touches my pussy. “So wet already, baby.”

I lift my hips, needing more contact. He drags his cock through my folds, rubbing the tip against my clit until my legs start shaking. Until I come from the friction.

“Oh, yeah. That’s it, mistletoe. Get my cock all slick. Lube me up so I can fuck your tits.” He moves up and straddles my chest, sliding between my breasts. I hold them tightly together, making a cavern for him. “Such a good girl. Mama wants her cock, doesn’t she?”

I smile and open my mouth over the tip when it comes up between my boobs. He groans and I do too, tasting myself on him.

“You’re going to make me come.”

Like that’s the worst thing in the world.

This time, he pauses longer at the top, and I get more of him into my mouth. He growls and pulls out and completely away from me.

“Hey,” I complain.

But he just flips me over and pulls me up to my knees. “I’m going to fuck a baby into you tonight. As much as I want to come in your mouth, I can’t let it happen.”

He kisses my spine as he notches himself at my opening. Slowly, ever so slowly, he eases in like it’s our first time or something. I feel every single inch as he fills me, stretches me. He doesn’t pull back, but he flexes his cock and my inner muscles squeeze him.

“Shit, baby. Ease up. I’m trying to make this last.”

I look over my shoulder at him. “Fuck me hard and fast, Charlie. I want to be sore everywhere.”

His eyes darken, and he wraps a fist around my hair. “I love you so goddamn much.” He tugs hard, pulling my hair as he rears back and into me hard. Then again. Then again. And then it’s not slow or measured. Our bodies are slapping hard, and he’s hitting my G-spot on every stroke. My legs start buckling, so he wraps an arm around me for support and start thrusting faster. Harder.

Stars explode inside me, my pussy spasming around him.

He groans. “Fuck, that’s it. Come around my cock just like that. You’re going to squeeze the cum out of me, aren’t you?” His fingers dig into me hard, and I can feel him ejaculate as he roars.

We collapse, a tangle of limbs and sticky love.

A short nap later, we go downstairs for leftover pizza, and we put out the gifts from Santa and fill the stockings. He’s got some silver at his temples, not a lot, but it catches the light from the tree, and just like that, I’m horny for him again. I can’t explain it, the way I love his laugh lines and his few gray hairs. But my core clenches, and I’m already setting out to seduce him again.

I open his robe, to his surprise, and kiss my way down his body. This time, I’m going to get him in my mouth a lot longer than he let me upstairs. He’s just starting to get hard, so I can fit a lot more of him in my mouth than usual. I love the velvety texture of his cock. I love that I can have it whenever I want. I love that he swipes my hair off my face and looks me in the eye while I’m bobbing on him.

But at the last minute, when I think I’ve got him exactly where I want him and he’s losing control of his hips, he gets me on my back on the floor before I know what’s going on. “Did you forget that I’m breeding you tonight, Mrs. Warner?” He’s seated all the way inside me and he’s thrusting, our bodies slapping together.

“You’re such a family man now. For someone who never even wanted kids—”

He shuts me up with a kiss. “I love the way you look when you’re pregnant. I love knowing everyone who sees you knows you’re mine. I love everything you’ve given me in the last five years, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you every day just how much I love you.”

I wrap my legs around him tighter, pulling him into me as much as I can. And then we have no more use of words. And when he pumps the last of his seed into me, I pull his head to my chest and hold him there, under the lights of our Christmas tree. In our home where everyone feels safe, important, and wanted.

Where it’s okay to be alone in a room full of people but you never feel lonely.

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