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“If it wasn’t for this stuff,” he says, shaking the mug. “I wouldn’t have you.”
He downs the rest of the eggnog in his mug, exhaling harshly after swallowing. It’s his Christmas tradition. Drink a glass of eggnog in remembrance of the glass that made my match miss out on our festive getaway.
“You know I never liked the stuff.”
“To the surprise of no one,” he says, setting the mug down. “It’s horrid. How anyone could voluntarily drink that stuff blows my mind.”
I swallow. “How about I blow something else?”
I bite my lip, staring at the tent growing in his pajama bottoms—the same ones that match mine. Another Christmas tradition.
“What did you have in mind?”
I snort. “Shut up and take your pants off.”
I don’t have to ask twice. I’m not sure how much time we have to ourselves, but I want to make the most of us.
His pants hit the floor. “That’s better. Would this be a good time to show you your last Christmas gift?”
“You’re not…”
I shake my head, smiling. “I think you’ll like it just as much. But you have to unwrap it.”
Nick swallows. “Where is it?”
“Beneath the covers.”
Nick lets out a raspy sigh as he gets that look in his eyes. The one that makes my insides twist into knots and sets my body on fire. It’s the way he looked at me the first time he saw me. The way he still looks at me every day.
He grabs the covers, pulling them aside in one smooth movement.
“What do you think?” I ask as his gaze travels the length of my naked body, save my panties.
“Is that…” His throat bobs as he stares at the mistletoe on my panties. Another Christmas tradition. He started it, but I’ve made sure to continue it.
“It is,” I say.
He tears off his shirt, throws it aside, and then slides between my legs. “I told you I don’t need mistletoe to kiss you, especially here,” he rasps before dragging his tongue across me, making my entire body shudder.
I grab his hair involuntarily as he continues to lick me, his hands roving all over my body. I shove my face into a pillow, trying to dampen the noise, but Nick takes it and throws it away.
“I need to hear you. Fucking scream for me, Eva,” he growls before tearing off my panties and diving back in—his hands riveting me in place.
I can’t hold back. I can’t think. My mind is obliterated by the feel of my husband’s mouth devouring me. Sucking and licking. Grunting as he does what he does best.
Making me feel wanted.
Desired.
Making me feel like I’m his special little gift.
I love every second I’m with him.
Especially the ones he spends like this.
It’s one Christmas tradition I hope lasts for as long as we both live.
* * *
