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Moving her hips faster, they both began to spiral higher and higher as Kristy felt herself getting dizzy at the speed her orgasm was approaching. With a small cry, she leaned forward to kiss him, putting all of her love and her angst into that one kiss.
Wrapping his arms around her, Kashif lifted himself and began to thrust into her in earnest as Kristy felt another orgasm riding the wave of her first one. Calling out his name, she came again just as Kashif thrust up one last time.
Sagging against his chest, she kept her arms wrapped around his neck and idly licked his chin. “You know, Kash Shadid, I can’t get enough of you either.”
21
Kashif blinked and stared at the sight before him.
“Pretty!” Arella said in wonderment. She immediately lunged forward, but Kristy had a firm grip.
“Hold on, baby.” Kristy muttered. “Kash, I thought you said your family doesn’t do Christmas anymore.”
“We don’t,” he said with a frown. “I can’t even begin to explain any of this.”
The normally polished and clean foyer was covered in Christmas decorations. Blue and silver balls hung from the massive chandelier, and an ornate garland swung from the banister. Standing at the base of the staircase was an ancient-looking stuffed Santa holding a candy bowl. Kashif reached out and gripped Kristy’s hand.
“My mother,” he breathed. “These are my mother’s decorations. How in the world…?”
Unable to contain her excitement anymore, Arella broke free and went racing through the palace shrieking with glee. Kristy’s eyes widened in horror, and she went to take off after her, but Kashif held her back.
“It’s okay,” he said with a smile. “This is her home too, and she should learn to enjoy it.”
“She’s liable to break something expensive,” Kristy protested. “I thought that maybe we’d wrap everything up in bubble wrap before we turned her loose.”
Kashif shook his head and kissed her. There was nothing in the palace that was worth more than his daughter’s happiness. “I don’t know what is going on, but I’m glad that you’re here with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“These are my mother’s Christmas decorations. I haven’t seen them since she died. I remember my father giving a strict order to get rid of them. You’d be hard-pressed to convince me that he did this, but I don’t know who else would have managed to get them all back. Or how they even got them all back.”
Suddenly, a familiar voice boomed down the hallway. “Does anyone know who this monkey belongs to? I think she’s trying to climb the Christmas tree.”
“Oh, God,” Kristy gasped and took off. “Arella! You come back here this instant!”
“Pretty,” the little girl shrieked.
“Jarik?” Kashif asked as he followed after her. Turning the corner into the main room, he stopped short. Arella was squirming in his younger brother’s arms, but what was even more surprising was that Samir was there as well, frozen by the tree with an ornament in his hand. Standing by his side, helping, were a pretty blonde and an equally pretty brunette. Everyone had huge smiles on their faces.
“Kashif?” Samir said uncertainly. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“I was about to say the same thing,” he said as he shook his head. “I should have known. No one but you would be able to find all of mother’s things.”
“These were at the safe house,” Samir explained.
“And why were you at the safe house?”
“That’s a story for another time,” he said quickly. “Kashif, I’d like you to meet Poppy Milenne, the love of my life.”
“Really?” Kashif asked with a raised eyebrow. He would have been skeptical had he not seen the look on Samir’s face when he took the blonde’s hand.
“Pleasure to meet you. Jarik and Samir have been swapping stories about past Christmases, and I have to say, you don’t look like a bully at all.”
Kashif laughed while Samir frowned. “Whose side are you on?” he mumbled as he kissed her cheek.
“While we’re making introductions, this is Maria Walken. She’s the head of Christmas Crates, a wonderful charity that donates toys to refugee children,” Jarik said proudly. “She’s also going to be my bride.”
“We haven’t discussed that yet,” the brunette said hastily. “It’s nice to meet you.”
