Page 117 of The Brigadier

“Such a beautiful little brat,” he whispered, his husky voice about to drive me crazy.

“I have a party dress on.” At his insistence. Tonight we were finishing decorating the tree and the special surprise. “We can’t wait.”

Plus, Damien wasn’t going to allow us to wait for long. There were only so many promises you could make to an eager four-year-old.

“We have a few minutes.” The powerful man refused to stop, driving into me like this would be our last time.

I was breathless, stars floating in front of my eyes. This moment was delicious, but I was eager like a kid myself.

Still, I surrendered to the passion, meeting every hard thrust with one of my own. Within seconds, I was brought close to an orgasm. He pulled back just enough to make me pummel my fists against his back. “Don’t do that, mean boy.”

He laughed and thrust into me harder. We were rocking the wall and I was certain pictures were going to fall.

My heart raced, my pulse sky high and there was no way I could hold back any longer. As the orgasm rose from my toes, his body tensed. I smiled and squeezed my muscles.

When he crushed his mouth over mine, it was to keep either one of us from making too much noise. The kiss was amazing as usual but by the time our bodies stopped convulsing, I was ready to laugh.

The sharp knock was a clear indication time had run out.

“Can we finish decorating the tree? Pwease?”

Damien’s little voice almost caused me to shift into a fit of giggles. We quickly arranged ourselves, clothes back in place and I pointed my index finger at Nikolay with a silent warning to be good.

Right.

I flung open the door and clapped, grabbing the little boy into my arms. “Yes, we can. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready!”

All I had to do was look at Nikolay again. He knew to bring the special surprise when he came.

I headed down the stairs with Damien in my arms, singing a little Christmas song until he started giggling himself.

The house was new, at least to us. Neither one of us could bear to go back to the beach house but we loved the style of living. He’d found the perfect home in an equally gorgeous location, although it had needed serious renovations. He’d hired the best contractors, dozens of them, and somehow the house had been turned into exactly what we wanted in a little over two months.

Just in time for our first Christmas as a family.

And it was just about ready to get a little larger.

When we reached the living room, the sparkling lights that I’d insisted be placed everywhere took my breath away. Nikolay, a man I’d never thought capable of being romantic hadn’t just purchased a Christmas tree, but had found the perfect one. It was close to eighteen feet to accommodate the high ceilings, a masterpiece of greenery and colored lights. We’d decorated the top using tall ladders, lots of booze and laughter after Damien had gone to sleep.

Honestly, it had been one of the best nights of our lives. Sure, someone might confuse us with a Hallmark movie with the roaring fire and dazzling holiday music, but so the fuck what?

After everything we’d been through, including the death and funeral of my father, we deserved a little cheer.

Was I sad my father had been killed? I honestly wasn’t entirely certain. We’d confirmed a contract had been signed for me to marry the other Pakhan’s son. Once the black and white piece had been in my hand, my mother finally seeing it, everything had settled in and I’d had a small nervous breakdown.

I’d been shocked at Nikolay’s level of patience and his determination to help me through the crisis. When we’d chosen a house, I’d slowly regrouped, finally starting to feel like myself again.

Sketching and Damien had helped tremendously as well.

“What ornament do you want to put on the tree?” I asked after placing him on the floor. The one thing about the little man was how thoughtful he was with everything he did. He didn’t just grab something and run. He didn’t randomly ask for toys just to destroy them. I’d never seen a more mature kid in my life.

When he selected a new, fragile ornament, a special hand-blown black Labrador retriever, I crouched down. “This one is ver-ry special. You have to kiss the pup’s nose and make a wish for Christmas as you’re placing it on the tree. Can you do that?”

He propped his one hand on his hip like he did when he thought adults were stupid. “Duh, Chantie. I can do anything. Remember?”

I had to chuckle. “Yes, you can. Go ahead. Pick the perfect spot but go as high as your little arms can take you. It’ll be safer there.”