December 20th
“Daddy!”
Liliana’s squeal could have broken glass from the high pitch. Lucian didn’t even mind. His wife stood and spun on her heel with wide, sea-blue eyes finding his hazel gaze. All he needed was a single look from Jordyn—her love always stared back at him—and everything was right and good in his world once more.
“Lucian,” Jordyn said.
Whispered was more like it.
She stared at him, unmoving.
She didn’t even blink.
“You are seeing what you think you’re seeing,” he told her.
Her smile bloomed wide.
Honest, pure, and good.
So beautiful.
Instantly, his wife lurched forward. Lucian already had his arms wide open to catch her in his embrace. He was vaguely aware of the onlookers surrounding them. Guests for a party that, according to his brother, their wives had been working on nonstop for the whole month.
Lucian didn’t care at all.
Not when Jordyn kissed him.
Her hands fisted into his suit jacket to drag him impossibly closer. His lips melded against hers in a familiar dance that always left him hot as hell and happy in his heart.
This woman was his soul.
Every good part of it.
“Daddy, you’re here!”
Liliana hugged Lucian’s legs. His oldest daughter’s excitement was the only reason he pulled away from his wife. Jordyn didn’t seem to mind, but he promised himself they would get back to what they were doing soon enough.
Later was waiting, after all.
Bending down, Lucian let his fingers drift through the free, dark waves of Liliana’s hair. “Hey, principessa. Love you.”
Liliana’s cheeks pinked in her joy. “Did Santa bring you home?”
Lucian passed Jordyn a look. She only shrugged.
“Kind of,” Lucian said.
“And you’ll be home all of Christmas, too?”
Lucian nodded. “Yes, I will.”
“Yay!”
“Dad!”
“Dad-day!”
Apparently, word had already traveled about his arrival. Lucian barely got the chance to blink before he was tackled from the side by his two other kids.
Cella practically hung around his middle. John grabbed his father from behind around the neck. They took him to the floor, and like a fucking football team, piled on top of him until he was smothered by his kids. He couldn’t even breathe.
Lucian didn’t mind.
Not at all.
• • •
“Oh, my boy,” Cecelia said, kissing Lucian on both cheeks. “I am so very happy you’re here.”
Usually, he didn’t let people fawn over him like this. Certainly not to the extent Cecelia was doing. Still, she was his mother, and he loved her.
Entirely.
Plus, his father was standing just a couple of feet behind Cecelia with a stare that told Lucian he was not to move an inch until his mother was done. Antony had always been like that where his wife was concerned; he made sure she was happy, no matter what. Lucian supposed that was why he and his brothers were the same way with their wives at the end of the day.
“Let me get a good look at you,” his mother demanded.
Cecelia looked him all over, checking for any sign of injury or distress.
“Ma,” Lucian said.
Cecelia hushed him.
Again, she continued her search.
“Ma, I am fine.”
“I know, but still, Lucian.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Lucian kept watch on his wife. His son and daughters had darted off somewhere to play with their cousins again. Once they had been convinced that their father actually wasn’t going anywhere.
Lucian hadn’t been able to fully appreciate seeing his wife after months of only getting a half hour visit here and there. Jordyn looked damn good in a gold dress that hugged her curves, and showed off her legs. She had let her hair down in loose curls—a style he loved just because it gave him something to play with.
Motherhood and life had changed his wife, but in the best of ways. A little curvier in her hips. Thicker in her thighs. New lines and curves and more for him to love. And he did. God, did he love every inch of her.
The strappy gold heels on her feet definitely added to the appeal her legs already had. The heels made them look longer, and likely better if they were wrapped around his—
“So how did you manage this, huh?” his mother asked.
Lucian was brought out of his less than innocent thoughts to answer his mother’s question. He had to clear his throat and remind himself now was not the time. Soon, but not now.
Tugging up his pant leg, Lucian showed his mother the blinking black box that was attached to his ankle. Quickly, he dropped his pants to hide the ankle monitor once more.
“House arrest for the next couple of months,” he said with a chuckle. “However, someone …” Lucian nodded to his father, adding, “And someone else—not saying who, but it was Gio—pulled some strings and got permission for me to attend the party tonight, and be here for Christmas morning.”
Cecelia put a hand over her heart. “So you just got out today?”
“Early this morning. All last night was paperwork. It took longer than we thought. I spent the night in a waiting room until my monitor was ready and everything was signed off. I went to the house when I knew Jordyn was here to have a shower, and put a decent suit on.”
“But you’re here.”
“I am, Ma. Merry Christmas.”
Cecelia’s soft smile lit up her whole face. “Merry Christmas, my boy. I couldn’t have asked for a better gift than you.”
• • •
Jordyn’s tinkling laughter filled the empty hallway of the Marcello mansion. She tried to tug on his grasp to slow him down, but Lucian just kept pulling her along.
“There is a party downstairs!” she told him.
“About to be one up here, too.”
“Lucian, I’m supposed to be hosting.”
She was going to be hosting something else, too.
Quick, fast, and in a hurry.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Lucian didn’t answer, simply slipped into a familiar room and shut the door behind them. He didn’t give Jordyn much of a chance to look around his old bedroom—it was a blast from the past, anyway. His mother never changed things. She never updated the space. She kept the floor clean, and the sheets fresh.
Just in case.
“What—”
Lucian effectively quieted his wife’s questions, and her laughter, with a bruising kiss. At the same time, he backed her into the door, using his body to confine her against him. Jordyn laughed into his kiss, and pushed all of her sweet, sinful curves into his hard lines. He kissed her until his lips were numb and his lungs begged for air.
His hands couldn’t be controlled. Exploring his wife’s body, driving over the shimmering, body-hugging dress she wore, and then edging beneath the skirt to drive the material higher. He heard the lock on the bedroom door click, and realized Jordyn had been the one to do it.
Good.
She knew what he wanted.
She was up for it.
Perfect.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” his wife murmured against his throat. “Fifteen, Lucian, and that’s all. I have to be back downstairs. I promised.”
“Fifteen minutes works for me.”
Besides, he’d have all damn night once he got his wife home.
Jordyn squeaked with surprise when Lucian yanked her away from the door. The bed was a few feet away—a large thing that gave him lots of space and comfort to move. He ended up sitting his wife down on the edge of the fucking dresser.
It worked.
Plus, if he got Jordyn in a bed, there was no telling how long they would stay there. She did say fifteen minutes, after all. He was going to try to stick to that.
“God, I missed you,” Jordyn hummed as Lucian kissed from his wife’s chin down the column of her delicate throat. He could feel her heartbeat thrumming under his lips and tongue. She tasted like she always did—sweet, sexy, and all his. “Would you hurry the hell up and fuck me already?”
“You’re impatient.”
“You made me this way.”
He had.
Lucian regretted nothing.
His hands skimmed under his wife’s skirt, found the edges of lace panties, and pulled. She lifted from the dresser just enough to help him get those panties down her legs. He tucked them in his back pocket as she yanked her skirt up around her hips.
“Fuck,” Lucian groaned.
Legs spread open.
Pretty pussy.
Grinning, painted red smile.
Sex.
Sin.
Love.
The sight in front of Lucian was the best damn thing he had ever seen, as far as he was concerned.
“Merry Christmas to me,” he said.
Jordyn’s smile turned even more sinful. “It certainly will be. Get back here, now.”
Lucian didn’t need to be told a second time. His wife helped to undo his pants, and get them shoved down around his hips. Her hands dipped beneath his boxer-briefs, and with a few firm strokes, his already semi-hard cock was ready to be balls-deep in her wet, tight cunt.
Jordyn’s cupped his face and brought him in for another searing kiss as he finally slid home inside his wife.
He found heaven there.
He found bliss there.
He found life there.
“Holy fuck, yeah,” Lucian breathed against his wife’s mouth.
Jordyn kissed him again. “You’re down to at least eleven minutes, Lucian.”
He wasn’t moving.
Her pussy hugged him so tight, it was hard to breathe.
“Don’t care,” he said.
Her lips grazed his cheek, and jaw. Her fingernails dragged soft lines over his exposed skin. All of it felt too fucking good to be true, but he knew it was.
It all came to a head when she whispered his name—soft and needy—in his ear. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t not move anymore.
Lucian stroked his thumb over Jordyn’s red lips while he pounded into her. Her soft cries filled the quiet space, and urged him on faster. She sucked his digit into her mouth, and fuck …
Life was good again.
Their life was always good.
Yeah.
Merry Christmas to him.