Page 76 of Silent Snowfall

Lucian took a step into the room, turned, and closed the doors. “He told me that if I found my Christmas present, I could unwrap it.”

The lock clicked in place with a finality.

“Oh?” I laughed breathlessly as the mafia don prowled closer. “And what did you ask Santa for this year, San Nicola?”

“Hmm….” The sound was a rough, animalistic growl that made the hairs on arms lift in warning. “A feisty queen.”

He was halfway across the library.

“A beauty, with dark hair and soulful eyes.”

He took another step.

My breath hitched.

“Someone to share the long, cold winter nights with….”

With a soft squeak, I bolted off the desk and tried to make a run for it.

Lucian pounced, snaring his arm around my waist, and lifted me off the ground. His teeth snapped against my throat. “Now…where did you think you could run to? Hmm?”

Short, quick bursts of air filled my lungs. “I should have thought this through!”

Lucian chuckled as he carried me to the couch. Falling onto the sofa, he planted me on the ground between his knees. He held my wrists and kept me in place as he drank me in.

I shivered, but this time, not from the cold.

The heat in his dark eyes was enough to set my skin on fire.

“Such a pretty package,” he mused. “It’s almost a shame I have to unwrap you.”

I lifted my shoulders in a noncommittal gesture. I was just happy he didn’t think this game was silly. Hell, I loved the fact that we could play together. And that wasn’t something that was going to change once Christmas and the Elf on the Shelf tradition was done for the season.

“Have you been a good boy this year?” I asked, arching a brow.

“No.”

His quick answer made me laugh.

“Well, maybe this present wasn’t for you then,” I teased. “Maybe yours is a lump of coal in the stocking over there.”

Lucian’s lip actually curled as a snarl vibrated in this throat. “I’ve been bad, carina. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a good man.”

His touch slid down my thigh, catching the wrapping paper and hooking under it. The sound of tearing filled the room as he drug his fingers up the side of my body.

“I don’t know about you, but masked men who break into houses of little old ladies generally don’t get presents under the tree,” I panted as the paper fell away.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to take the one I find,” he countered, tugging the remains of the wrapping off me.

I stood in front of him, wearing the red, lacey teddy. Most of it was elastic straps that circled my hips, rips, and chest, leaving swaths of lace to conceal the most intimate places. But I didn’t for a second feel exposed or silly standing in front of him.

Especially when the rough, Italian curse passed his lips.

“Tell me this belongs to me,” he begged, voice the texture of gravel.

“Merry Christmas.”

It was all I could manage. His fingers found the straps along my pelvis and they pulled the material between my legs. The lace scraped against my clit, making me fall forward.