“Jeremiah and I did the decorating,” Diana announced proudly. “Dad helped us with the top, but we told him where to put things.”
“Yes, they did,” Rylan said with a smile, his eyes dancing. “They were very bossy.”
Diana put her hands on her hips. “You said we were allowed to be bossy with you as long as we didn’t fight.”
He bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, I did, and you two were exceptional. No bickering at all.”
She beamed, basking in his praise, and my heart clenched. I’d almost forgotten what it had been like to earn a father’s praise. I had the memories of those good years, but a lot of times they hurt more than the bad ones, reminding me of what I’d lost rather than what I’d had. Seeing Diana with Rylan and knowing what that little girl had gone through in her short life reminded me of how good I’d had it. Being thankful for those years didn’t excuse what happened later, and it didn’t dishonor my mother’s memory.
“Rona are you okay?” Jalen’s hand on my back grounded me. “You looked like you were drifting for a minute there.”
I smiled at him. “I was, but I’m back.”
“Good,” he said, “because I’ve just been informed that we’re required to follow tradition.”
I gave him a puzzled look and then followed his gaze as he looked up. Mistletoe.
“You have to kiss,” Diana said. “It’s the law.”
A smile played around Jalen’s lips, but when he spoke, his voice was serious. “We wouldn’t want to break the law, now would we?”
I shook my head. “Definitely not.”
He put his hands on my hips, his touch light but hot. My hands went to his shoulders as I tilted my head back. The kiss he brushed across my lips was chaste, but it sent a bolt of heat and desire through me nonetheless. The warmth settled low in my belly, simmering there with the promise of more intimate things to come, and it stayed as we ate dinner and saw the kids off to bed.
After my second glass of wine, I excused myself to use the bathroom. I’d spent time in the house before, but I hadn’t really paid much attention to the pictures lining the hallway to the guest bathroom until now. Diana and Jeremiah’s faces were everywhere. Some of the pictures were of all four of the Archers, and there were a few of Rylan and Jenna alone, including one of their wedding, but the majority were of the kids. A couple of them looked like they were school pictures, but most of them were candid shots. Diana exclaiming over a giraffe at a zoo. Jeremiah sitting in a classic muscle car at what appeared to be a museum. Both children building a snowman.
I stopped in front of a whole collage of the family working on a pair of bedrooms. They were painting the walls, and every picture showed them smiling and laughing together. The sight brought back a memory with enough force to make me tear up.
“Are you sure that’s the color you want?” Dad sounded doubtful, but he’d promised me my choice, and I knew he’d keep his word. Even if he didn’t like the mint green paint I’d chosen.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “I want this on the walls and that one for the trim.”
I was going to be ten next week, and as a birthday present, my parents had finally agreed to let me redo my room how I wanted it. No more pastel yellow walls or babyish curtains. I was even going to get a new bed, but Dad said that had to wait until after we painted because he didn’t want to risk ruining it. I hadn’t told him or Mom, but I was looking forward to painting almost as much as when the room would be done because all three of us were going to paint it together. Mom and Dad had been working so much lately that we never had time together. Sure, sometimes they could be lame, but unlike a lot of my friends, I still liked spending time with them.
I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. I’d almost completely forgotten about us doing my room together. We’d spent an entire weekend getting it done. We’d ordered pizza and ate on the floor like it’d been a picnic. I’d forgotten to pull my hair back at one point, and it’d stuck to the wall, getting paint all over it. Instead of being mad, my mom just laughed and dabbed paint on the beard my dad had been growing that year.
“I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.” Jalen came over and stood next to me. “Photogenic family.”
I nodded. “Most of my family pictures are in storage in Indiana. Pretty much anything personal is there actually. Anton sold the house and most of the furniture, but he didn’t have room in his loft for the rest, not knowing what I wanted to keep. He didn’t want to be the one to decide what got thrown away, so he rented a storage unit. After he died, I put most of my stuff from the years with him in there too.”
“My family really didn’t do much in the way of family photos,” he said, “as I’m sure you noticed.”
I had, but it hadn’t seemed like the sort of thing I should mention. I reached over and took his hand. “I’ve never been a big fan of having my picture taken.”
He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. “Does that mean I won’t be able to convince you to pose for me sometime?”
The mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was teasing, but I appreciated the change from a topic that could’ve turned the mood maudlin.
“I don’t know,” I teased back. “I suppose I could be persuaded. If you worked really hard at it.”
He glanced around us, then pulled me through a doorway and into the library. My head spun as he backed me against the wall, but he didn’t give me a chance to steady myself before his mouth came down on mine. He made a pleased, hungry sound in the back of his throat as his tongue pushed apart my lips. I curled my fingers into his shoulders, clinging to him as he ran a hand down my side and over my hip.
“I’m going to make you come,” he murmured as he slid his hand under the slit in my dress. “You’re going to come on my fingers, and then we’ll go back in to our friends and enjoy the rest of the party.”
I nodded, a shiver running down my spine. His fingers danced, feather-light, along my skin even as he kissed his way across my jaw and down my neck. His teeth scraped against my skin, and I bit my lip to hold back the moan that wanted to escape.
He leaned against me, the flat planes of his chest hard against the points of my nipples. His fingers pressed against the front of my panties, and he chuckled. I didn’t need him to tell me that the cloth was damp. He could make me wet with a single kiss.
I cried out as his fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, two of them sliding inside me without any hesitation. He clamped his hand over my mouth, his eyes dark with desire.
“Shh,” he said with a smile. “Can’t be too loud.”
I glared at him as he twisted his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. His thumb rubbed my clit with brisk, almost rough strokes, pushing me toward something explosive. Something jarring and brutal. I whimpered against his hand, squirming as he drove his fingers into me, my muscles quivering as the pressure built inside me.
“I want you to come,” he practically growled the words. “Dammit, Rona, come. I need to see you come.”
I cursed, the word muffled by his hand. My back arched, and I rocked against his hand. I squeezed my eyes closed, nails digging into the soft fabric of his sweater. He continued talking, ordering me to climax, telling me how much he needed to see it, how much he wanted to feel me come on his fingers. And then I was there, crying out his name as white-hot pleasure coursed through me.
Twenty
“Do you have any idea how hard it was not to take you right there in the library?” Jalen said as he pushed his hands into my hair. His voice was gruff, his body hard as he pressed me against the door.
“I would’ve let you,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Fuck,” he growled into my throat.
His hands dropped to my hips and slid around to cup my ass. The moment I felt him lift, I pushed up and wrapped my legs around his waist. He shoved my skirt up and rocked against me, his cock hard beneath his zipper, my panties wet as they rubbed
my oversensitive skin.
“I need you inside me,” I breathed against his ear. “Now, J. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you had your fingers in me. I want to come on that thick cock of yours.”
He shuddered, back muscles rippling under my hands. “You keep talking like that, and I’m going to fuck you right here.”
“Good.” I bit his jaw, not hard enough to mark, but hard enough to sting.
He pulled back enough for our eyes to meet. “You better be sure you want this.”
The warning made my pussy throb. “I want it.”
He didn’t look away as he reached between us. His zipper rasped down, and he pulled my panties aside. With one quick jerk of his hips, he buried his full length inside me, both of us cursing as we came together. He fucked me in short, fast thrusts, the base of his cock rubbing my clit with almost painful friction. I didn’t ask him to stop though. I meant what I said. I wanted this. I wanted the edge that pain gave me, the extra intensity that came with riding that fine line.
I came quickly, my uninhibited cries echoing in the foyer. He followed a moment later, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside me. He kissed me then, softly, his hands gentle as they eased my legs down. I wobbled, my knees weak, and he chuckled as he caught me around the waist.
“Now that we’ve taken the edge off,” he said, “what do you say we head upstairs and take things a little slower?”
“That’s not going to fit.” I could hear the slight quaver in my voice, but it was understandable, in my opinion anyway. The butt plug in Jalen’s hand was huge.
He raised an eyebrow and wrapped his free hand around his cock. “It’s thinner than my dick, and that’s been in your ass.”
“Yeah, but not when I had something else in my pussy,” I argued.
Even as I protested, a part of me was turned on by the idea he’d proposed, and if I was completely honest, it’d been something I’d always been secretly fascinated with. I’d never tried it. Like other things, it’d always required too much trust for me to do before, and then when I found a person I trusted enough, the idea of inviting someone else to join us wasn’t something I wanted to consider. Jalen bringing it up had surprised me – and bothered me, truthfully – but only for the short length of time it had taken him to clarify. He didn’t intend to share me. He’d use other means to accomplish the task.
Hence, the flesh-colored toy he was currently holding.
“Do you trust me?”
I sighed, but I wasn’t annoyed. I’d simply needed him to give me an excuse to agree despite my nerves.
“I do.”
“Then get up on your hands and knees. You don’t want to end up on Santa’s naughty list on Christmas Eve, do you?”
I shot him a dirty look as I got into position. “You’re really going to invoke Santa’s name for something like this?”
“Hell yes,” he said, lightly slapping my ass. “What do you think I wanted for Christmas?”
I laughed, the sound turning into a yelp when a lube-coated finger breached my ass. He’d been playing with it a bit while he’d gone down on me earlier, but I’d had a feeling there really wasn’t such a thing as genuine preparation for that initial anal penetration.
Then again, a lot of things about my relationship with Jalen hadn’t stuck to my expectations.
My head dropped forward, hair falling in a curtain on either side of my face. Despite the cool liquid he trickled down my crack, the second finger he was currently working in burned. I let out a slow breath and tried to relax. He would make me feel good, I knew, but it was a process.
“You know,” I said breathlessly, “I’m pretty sure this is what would get me on Santa’s naughty list.”
He laughed, that low, masculine sound that sent a rush of arousal through me. “I don’t know about that. You look pretty nice to me, and I think even good old Saint Nick would agree with me if he saw you like this.”
I flushed at the thought of what I must look like. Head down, ass up. Nipples jutting out from my breasts in two hard little points. Pussy dripping and clit swollen from him making me come with his mouth. His fingers moving in and out of my ass.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his free hand running the length of my spine. “No one but me will ever see you like this.”
I told myself that he wasn’t making any real promise, just talking in the heat of the moment, but I couldn’t stop that bright flicker of hope that sparked at the thought of us being together always. A year ago, the idea of being in an exclusive, committed relationship would have scared the shit out of me, but now, with him, I could see it. Okay, it still terrified me, but it was a different kind of terrifying. The sort of anticipatory excitement that came with any unknown, but positive, adventure.
“All right,” he said as he pulled out his fingers. “I want you to relax and let me do the work. If it’s too much, tell me.”
I closed my eyes as cool plastic pressed against my asshole. My legs shook as the pressure grew, but I didn’t ask him to stop. I listened, instead, to the soft soothing sounds that he made and reminded myself that he wouldn’t hurt me. Not really. The stretching burn that grew steadily as he pushed wasn’t true pain.
I groaned as the hard shaft pushed past the muscle and slid into my ass. I couldn’t hold back a whimper as it settled into place, my brain struggling to process the impulses my nerves were sending out.
He brushed the hair away from my face, his expression one of concern as much as it was of desire. “Are you okay?”
“Give me a moment.”
He nodded. “Take all the time you need.”
I wasn’t planning on keeping either of us waiting that long, but considering the massive erection he was sporting, I appreciated his patience. His hand moved over my back, fingertips brushing the end of my scar. His touch soothed me, helped my muscles relax and adjust.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
I raised my head and met his gaze. “Very.”
He leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth. “If it’s too much–”
“I’ll tell you,” I finished the thought.
He smiled and moved behind me. A moment later, I gasped as a single digit slid into my pussy. As wet and turned on as I was, he should’ve been able to start with two fingers, but the plug changed things, making even one finger feel impossibly thick.
I lost all track of time as my world narrowed down to what he was doing to my body. Each stroke reached a new place, nudged me closer to pleasure, but before I got there, a second finger joined the first, and I went through the process again. He took me to the edge, fingers twisting as he brushed his thumb over my clit.
“I want you to come again,” he said, pressing his lips to the base of my spine. “Come once more for me.”
My breaths came in small pants, everything in my body focusing on that small knot of pleasure growing low in my belly. I could hear him talking, encouraging me, coaxing me, but his voice sounded like it was coming from far away, an echo in my head, and then it was all noise, a rush of blood in my ears, the pounding of my heart.
The muscles in my body clenched and the feeling of my ass spasming around the plug sent a shudder through me. I made an inarticulate sound.
“Good girl.” He ran his hands over my hips and squeezed my ass. “Are you ready?”
If I could’ve managed to talk, I would’ve told him that was a silly question because I didn’t think I could really be ready for what was coming, but all I could manage was a nod.
He ran the tip of his cock along my slit, teased it over my swollen clitoris. I shivered, then gasped as he eased inside. Just the head at first, his hips rocking back and forth as he gave me the time I needed to adjust. Inch by inch, he filled me, and he cursed each time I tightened around him. His arms slid around my waist, hands moving up to cup my breasts as he curled over my back.
“Fuck, Rona.” His teeth scraped over my shoulder, and I
shuddered, drawing another curse from him. “You feel so good, babe.”
I moaned as his fingers teased my nipples, lightly tugging on them even as I squirmed under him. Too many sensations were trying to make themselves known. I couldn’t sort them all out. Flames licked across my nerves, chasing prickles of electricity and pleasure. The pressure was almost overwhelming, the most intense thing I’d ever felt, but then he moved, and everything else flew away.
I couldn’t explain it, but it went deeper than my skin, my nerves. It went clear to the bone, to my soul. It was beyond physical pleasure, something primal, a connection far beyond just sex. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t see his face or that we weren’t making eye contact. We moved together in the sort of perfect unison that didn’t happen often, at least not to me. A dance that we seemed to instinctively know the steps to.
When we came together, it was like nothing I’d ever experienced before, a feeling that carried through to when we collapsed together in a pile of tangled limbs. He wrapped his body around mine and pressed his lips under my ear. In a few moments, we’d need to move, to clean up, but for right now, I was content where I was.
Twenty-One
Red and green lights lazily blinked, reflecting off the ornaments and the walls. Glass bulbs of varying colors and sizes hung from the branches, and the scent of pine filled the air. A few plaster ornaments hung there too, all messily painted by a child’s hand.
My hand.
As soon as I was old enough to paint, my mom had put a brush in my hand and let me make my own ornament. It hadn’t mattered that I’d painted the dog purple or hadn’t separated its mouth from the ball it held. It’d been about the memories we were making. That’s what they said. My parents. Decorating the tree was as much about memories as it was about how pretty it was when we were done.
This year, we hadn’t painted anything. We made snowmen instead. Mom let me use a hot glue gun for the first time, and I burned my fingers, but it’d still been fun. Three cotton balls, one on top of the other. Two googly eyes and three buttons. We made scarves and hats from some flannel material Mom had bought.