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“You’re no fun,” I say, pouting and tucking the present against my abs before picking up the sticky roll and taking a huge bite, my lips coated in white icing.
The taste of rum, sugar, and cinnamon burst on my lips, and I moan, but I know what would make this taste even better… I put the present back under the tree—
“Babe, don’t be like that. I was only joking. I really do want my present,” Jon says, but I’m on a mission.
I want a Jon-infused rum and cinnamon kiss.
Crawling towards him, I lick my lips and slide my hands up his legs until they rest on his muscular thighs.
“Make it up to me?” I say, raising my eyebrow, challenging him.
“Anything,” Jon replies, leaning in.
“Kiss me.”
Jon closes the distance between us and claims my lips. His kiss isn’t soft and slow like it was earlier in the kitchen. Now it’s deep, hot, and full of promises of pleasures to come, and I drown in the need every kiss evokes in me, to get lost in Jon and the desire he stirs.
Jon’s kiss tastes of the bitter coffee and sweet confection, and I groan in pleasure—this might be my new favourite flavour—ever.
“Wanna open those presents or have some early Christmas playtime?” I whisper when we break the kiss.
Jon shakes his head. “I really want to give you your next Christmas surprise before I get my perfect present,” Jon says, leaning in and stealing another kiss, this one soft and sweet. “Your ass.”
“Jonathan…” I moan, leaning my head against his chest, and I see Jon’s huge cock straining against the thin material of his boxers, and all thoughts of the presents vanish from my mind.
“We’ll be quick, I promise,” I whine, trying to get my way.
“When I fuck you today, my Prince. It’s not going to be quick. That’s a promise,” he replies.
“You’re not helping me or my dick from being any less excited about fucking you, by the way, Sir,” I say, scowling in disappointment at him, knowing I’m being a brat.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he says as he stands up, his cock tenting the boxers obscenely.
Damn, I want that monster in his mouth already, but I get distracted when Jon crouches and plucks a red envelope from underneath the tree.
“This is surprise number two,” he says, giving me the envelope before sitting cross-legged beside me.
I look down at Jon’s neat, elegant handwriting before turning it over and tearing open the flap—Revealing a plane ticket to Venice, Italy!
“How? Why?” I ask, but I can’t take my eyes off the ticket. My eyes trying to see all the information. The dates are for next year in December. We’re going to be in Italy for Christmas?
Wow!
“Well, you said you always wanted to go to Venice. That it would be the perfect place to have our honeymoon.”
Honeymoon?
This is too much… Venice and honeymoon? When I finally look up, Jon cradles a glittering red glass bauble in his hands.
“This is your real Christmas surprise, baby,” Jon says as he holds the bauble out for me to take.
I lean in and look at what is inside the sphere … a small golden box.
Could it be?
“You need to open it, David,” Jon says, smiling nervously.
Jon is never nervous. I’ve never seen him nervous about anything, and seeing him like this warms my heart. For him to be nervous means it’s important, so I gently take the glass ball and move to sit down on the couch behind him.
