by Bethany-Kris
Antony should have known better.
• • •
At the front doors of the mansion, Jordyn stood with her sisters-in-law to greet the guests as they came into the mansion, and hand over a gift. Each gift bag held a gold-flaked Christmas ornament with Swarovski crystals inside, specialty chocolates imported from France, and a few other favorite things Cecelia had picked out.
“Ma, is it okay if we play in the second wing?”
Jordyn turned away from a guest she had been greeting to reply to her oldest daughter. Liliana looked sweet as could be in her gold and white dress. Somehow—for unknown reasons that Jordyn was grateful—her daughter had managed to stay clean. She could not say the same for Cella, but one thing at a damn time.
Plus, John had also been in a good mood all day.
Another check in Jordyn’s favor.
It was the small things, after all.
“Can we?” Liliana asked.
Jordyn’s distraction was handled by Kim stepping in to greet the next guest, so Liliana could be taken care of. Bending down to talk to her daughter, Jordyn had her back to the door. Cold air blew over her body as the door was opened again.
“Well, do you think you should play in the other wing?” Jordyn asked. “We’re supposed to be saying hello to everyone, and having a party, Liliana.”
“I know, Ma.”
“So … maybe later?”
Liliana didn’t answer. Her gaze darted over her mother’s shoulder, and then upward at someone behind Jordyn.
Jordyn didn’t know why, but she just knew who was standing there.
Maybe it was her daughter’s growing smile.
Maybe it was his shadow overtaking them.
Maybe it was her suddenly racing heart, and thrumming soul.
Lucian.
“Merry Christmas, Jordyn,” he said.
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.
&nbs
p; 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.
Dante & Catrina
December 9th
Catrina Marcello had never been much of a holidays or Christmas person until she had a reason to be. Mainly, once she was married, settled, and had kids. Before all of that, the holidays simply came and went.
It was just another day in her already busy year. She didn’t make time to do anything special for it because back then, she hadn’t needed to.
Now, though?
Catrina loved it.
Her son and daughter helped a lot with that, honestly. The closer Christmas came, the more excited they became. Michel was at an age where he no longer believed in Santa thanks to a few older kids at school who broke the news.
However, Catherine, their youngest and only biological child still very much believed in the magic of Christmas. Catrina had kept a little bit of the magic alive for Michel by having him help set up Catherine’s Santa things.
It worked.
It was also the only time of year when Catrina really stopped to slow down and enjoy the things happening around her fully. Throughout the rest of the year, she was so incredibly busy between work, family, and everything else.
It was only Christmas and New Year when she had no guilt about clearing her schedule, turning off the phones, and whatever else she needed to do for her kids and husband to be entirely present.
There with them.
Only them.
This year, on the other hand, was turning out to be less pleasant than years past. Not because of her, but rather, her husband.
Already, she could hear Dante’s anger and frustration becoming louder, and leaking down the hall. Catrina stood at the other end, and listening to her husband bark at someone on a phone call—likely one of his men, but she couldn’t be sure.
If the past month or so were any indication, Dante would only get progressively louder and louder until he woke everyone up in the goddamn house. Catrina didn’t want Michel and Catherine woken up by their father’s yelling.
Dante wasn’t typically a loud man. He rarely had bad moods. Lately it was an everyday kind of thing. The smallest thing could set him into some kind of a fit. Never to her or their kids, of course, but still.
Catrina didn’t know what in the hell was up with her husband. Dante was masterful at balancing his responsibilities between his family life, and business life. After doing it for almost a decade with no issues, these new moods and problems were a bit concerning.
He was her perfect match—a loving yet challenging husband. He was the best father, a fantastic boss when it came to his crime organization, and he never missed a click.
Until recently.
He was struggling.
Catrina didn’t know how to help.
She figured the best thing to do for the moment would be to leave Dante alone to his phone call. She headed up to the third floor of their large Amityville home to where Catherine and Michel’s bedrooms were situated.
A quick check on Michel told Catrina the boy was sleeping away. An I Survived book was still overturned on his extra pillow. It wasn’t unusual for Michel to fall asleep reading. He was incredibly book smart—apparently that was a thing. He much preferred reading, learning, and school to friends, playing, and whatever else.
Catherine, on the other hand, was still wide awake in her bed.
Not a surprise.
Catrina leaned in the doorway of her almost five-year-old’s room. Catherine pretended to be asleep when she noticed her mother peering in on her.
“I can see you’re not sleeping, Catherine.”
“I am, Ma.”
“Then
why are you talking?”
Catherine giggled. “Sorry, Ma.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I had to pee.”
“Okay, but now you have to sleep. Santa is coming, and we have to be a good girl. Right?”
Catherine nodded. “Right, Ma.”
“Night, reginella.”
“Night, Ma.”
Since at least one of their kids happened to still be awake, Catrina decided to head back down to Dante. After all, she could still hear him raging away on the phone. Probably to the same guy he had been yelling at when she was down there the first damn time.
Catrina stood in the doorway of her husband’s office while he finished his phone call. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t notice her there as his back was turned.
“No, you make sure that shit is done the way I told you to have it done …” Dante paused, and his shoulders stiffened as he listened to whatever reply came back to his statement. Catrina swore she could see the knot of tension forming between his shoulder blades through his dress shirt. “I don’t have time for this fucking nonsense. Get. It. Done.”
Dante slammed down the phone on his desk, but just as quickly, he picked it back up again. He dialed another number without ever turning around to see Catrina standing there watching him. A couple of seconds after he put the phone to his ear, he started talking.
“Yeah, Gio? I need an update on the Lucian thing.”
Wonderful.
Now her husband was about to go ballistic on his brother because he had taken all the hits he could on the last punching bag of the day. Catrina rubbed at her temples, willing the oncoming headache to back off for a few more minutes.
“Well find out, Gio!”
Dante’s shout echoed.
Catrina winced.
Okay, that’s quite enough.
She strolled into the room, snatched the phone from her husband’s hand, and turned her back to him as he spun to face her. She did catch the sight of his pissed off scowl, but she had other things to handle at the moment.
Catrina put the phone to her ear. “Gio?”
“What crawled up his fucking ass?” her brother-in-law asked.
“If someone figures it out, tell them to let me know,” Catrina replied dryly.