Humming around my shaft, she stares up at me, smiling with my cock choking her. I hiss as my orgasm hits me all at once. That sinful look of hers did me in. I cradle the back of her head as I come, coming even harder as she stares at me as she greedily swallows me down.
“Jesus, that’s my girl, my little flower girl,” I grunt, pumping my hips to push myself past her swollen lips.
Grinning up at me, she pulls off me with a pop. Bending, I kiss her sweet lips, not caring if there is any of me left on those lips. I tell her I love her with my mouth, then I lift her up, pulling her down as I bury myself inside of her. Now, I tell her I love her with my body as I rock up into her slowly, turning to pin her to the wall as I take her mouth again.
“Come for me again, baby,” I hiss against her throat. “Let me feel it. Show me you love me with your little pussy. Oh, that’s it, that’s my girl.”
“Yes, baby, yes, I’m coming,” she chants, clawing at my back.
Slamming her against the wall, I join her, coming hard a second time as she closes tight around me. I pump my hips once or twice, until I can’t move. Laughing, she pushes off the wall, sending us tumbling to the floor. I catch her and cradle her close, both of us heaving, both spent and sated.
“Hmm, I love you,” she whispers as she lays across my chest, gazing down at me with a beautiful shimmer in her light eyes.
“I love you,” I too beam as I say it, my chest expanding with how much I mean it, with how much I truly love her.
“Come on, Peter Pan, we have a holiday to celebrate.”
Grinning at her, I nod, climbing to my feet then helping her to hers. I draw her close and kiss her forehead, just holding her for a moment. When I let her go, she turns and runs towards thecloset, shaking her backside at me playfully. I laugh as I run after her, swatting at her right cheek softly. I reach her just as she slides on her bare feet into the walk-in closet.
“I lied before. I got you two gifts,” she states, holding up two square boxes.
They’re beautifully wrapped in red and gold, with big bows and shimmering stencils of big, bold ornaments. They’re just as pretty as any of the beautiful bouquets she puts together. Handing one out to me, she covers herself with the other playfully. I quirk a brow at her as I pluck a big, red bow off the top of the box.
“For not doing Christmas,” I tease her with rueful look. “You sure seem to remember how to do it right, honey.”
“Well, once upon a time, it was my favorite. Open that one first.”
Pulling at the ribbon holding the box together, I press the red bow over her right breast, laughing when it sticks. Setting the box on the small chest in the middle of the closet—which she has begun filling with her things, much to my pleasure—I pull the top off the box. Right away, I laugh.
It is perfect and terrible and just what someone who hates Christmas would give to someone. Pulling out the shirt, I immediately put it on, smoothing my hand over the graphics on the front. Turning to the full-length mirror along the back wall, I am still laughing.
“Oh, my flower girl, it is perfect,” I tease with a smirk.
Staring back at me is the cheesiest Santa Clause shirt I have ever seen. It features the jolly old man’s red suit, complete with an airbrushed belt and fur collar. My niece and nephew will love it, and my sister will never let me live it down—which makes it the perfect gift from my girl.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” Nova teases, peeking her head over myshoulder to catch my gaze in the mirror.
“It is and that makes it perfect. Is this matching joggers?”
“No, this is for you…and for me, I suppose.”
Taking the other box, I pull the bow off it, pressing it to her other tit. I laugh as she beams up at me, shaking her soft tits. When I open the second box, I cannot help but bark out a laugh. Oh, yes, she is perfect, my sweet flower girl.
Nova is the perfect girl for me, I am one lucky bastard.
“Put it on, now,” I playfully growl, yanking the top over her bare shoulders.
It hangs to her thighs and is a perfect match to my own. For her Ms. Clause top, instead of a belt there is an apron with a cute gingerbread man cookie tucked inside. Mr. and Mrs. Clause, in the worst, best, corniest tops I have ever seen. I draw her close and dip my head, kissing her soundly on the mouth.
“I love this. I love you,” I tell her, touching my nose to hers as emotions swarm me, filling my chest until I am breathing different, feeling fuller and more complete than I ever have before.
“I love you too, Mr. Clause. Oh! That’s the lost boys! We better get down there before they rip into all those presents without us!”
Rushing downstairs once I’ve pulled some clothes on, I get some hot cocoa going and tell Sutton to give us a few more minutes. Giving Ava and Evan their stockings—and noticing my girl filled them up with a lot more stuff—I tell them to behave while I go get their auntie. They light up when I call Nova that and I wink at Sutton when she gapes at me.
“Not yet,” I tell her, as if I would tie the knot without them. “But soon. We’ll be down once I give her this gift. How do you like hers?” I laugh, showing off the shirt. Sutton laughs too, giving it two thumbs up.
“Oh yes, she will fit right in, I think. I am happy for you,Niko.”
