His jaw tightens. “Romantic to wake up alone? To find you gone?”
Oh.
I didn’t think about that.
After everything that happened last year…
“I’m sorry Santo.”
He sighs, wrapping his arms around me again. “I can’t handle it Dea.”
His fingers begin to roam the bumps under the robe.
“What’s that?” he asks, pulling back and gesturing to the glow beneath my robe.
I bite my lip, my eyes meeting his. “My surprise.”
His expression softens and he steps back with a smirk. “Show me.”
With nervous fingers, I untie my robe and let it fall open and on to the floor. The string of lights wrapped around my naked body illuminate my skin in a soft, golden glow. I’ve arranged them to accentuate my body, crisscrossing over my breasts and spiraling around my hips.
“I’m your early Christmas present,” I say softly, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. “I thought you might like to... unwrap me.”
Santo’s eyes darken, that familiar heat returning. He steps closer, one hand reaching out to trace the path of lights across my collarbone.
I shiver at his touch, heat blooming in their glowing wake. He always watches me, but thewayhe looks at me still makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.
“You scared me,” he murmurs, his voice rough with lingering concern. “But this...thisis a nice surprise.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper again, leaning into his touch. “I didn’t think about how you’d feel waking up alone.”
Santo’s eyes travel down my body, taking in every part illuminated by the soft glow of the lights. “How did you manage this by yourself?”
I smile, feeling my confidence return under his appreciative gaze. “Verycarefully. It took some maneuvering.”
He circles me slowly, his fingertips never leaving my skin as he examines his “present” from every angle. The lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes.
“Beautiful,”he breathes. “My own personal Christmas angel.”
I laugh softly. “I was going forsexy, not angelic.”
“Trust me, Dea,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “There’s nothing innocent about the thoughts I’m having right now.”
My breath catches as he stops behind me, his chest pressing against my back, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear. His hands slide around my waist, following the path of lights.
“How do I unwrap thisparticulargift?” he asks, his breath hot against my skin.
“Roughly I hope,” I whisper. “I’m in the mood for Scythe.”
He chuckles darkly, “You’re always in the mood for Scythe.”
He turns me to face him, his finger grazes under my chin and tilts my gaze up, “You want to beused,Dea? That what you need? Are you desperate for surrender?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my voice trembling with need. “I want to surrender. I want to be used.”
His stormy eyes darken to midnight as his fingers tighten on my chin. Scythe emerges. His posture shifts, straightens.
“Spin for me,” he orders, his voice rough with command.
