Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“No need to ask, baby,” I tease him right before taking his dick down my throat in one go. So hot, hard, and delicious. I suck around it with my eyes closed as he clenches his fingers and moans. He is everything I’ve ever wanted, and came back to me even knowing what I am. What else could this be if not true love? He is my own Christmas miracle.
As he explodes in my mouth, closing his thighs around my head, I briefly feel intoxicated as visions of a happy future float through my head. Him, waiting for me with dinner as I return from my latest kill. Drinking chocolate by the Christmas tree. Long walks, and other beautiful things that I always feared might not come true for me. But they will. With Blake, they will.
A soft sob makes me look up just in time to see my love covering his face.
I swallow his load, keeping my eyes up, then turn to licking the insides of his thighs for dessert. “You okay, sweetness?”
“Y-yes,” he whispers and wipes his eyes before sobbing again. “I just… I never thought anything could feel like this. It’s so much…”
I crawl up his body and settle on top of him like a sated lion. “And I can’t believe you came back to me. You’re the only one who knows all of me, and I’m so honored to know all of you as well.”
Another tear escapes Blake’s eye, and he rubs it away with the back of his hand before rolling against my chest. “I was cold for so long, but you unlocked all those feelings in me. And it’s scary but also feels so, so good. I love you so much.”
“I won’t let you down. I promise. I love you. No matter what, you’ll always have me.” I entwine our fingers then kiss his hand. “Merry Christmas? Can you now admit it’s the best time of the year?”
Blake laughs, sweet and carefree in my arms. “Let’s see… Christmas is when I met the most amazing guy in the world, who fights evil and demands nothing in return, who always takes care of me, and who never disappointed me, even when I was being a horrible brat.” He exhales and rubs himself against me as our bodies cool. “I think I have no other choice but to love Christmas.”
Epilogue
Blake
One year later.
“This is one of our most popular products,” I say, pointing to the T-shirt stretched over the headless mannequin. It’s definitely not a bestseller at this time of year, but Christmas Killer merch is one of the things that keeps the Winter Emporium afloat over the other months.
“I don’t know,” the elderly lady says, biting her lip as Owen passes behind her in a full Santa costume. “Seems kind of extreme.”
“It really is just a joke that people make. Nobody actually thinks that a murderer ‘did nothing wrong’. I always see it as a conversation starter, and if your granddaughter likes true-crime, then she might really appreciate this gift. You can only get this design through our shop, so she couldn’t have bought this one all the way in Florida. Besides, did you know that many people theorize that the Christmas Killer is actually killing other serial killers?”
It’s a spruced-up version of the theory I’ve been pushing in this year’s edition of my podcast’s Christmas special, and while I did receive some backlash for it, I cannot stand strangers slandering Nico’s name, whether he cares about it or not.
He is the best boyfriend, a talented artist, a fantastic cook, and deserves nothing but love and praise. Call me brainwashed, but that’s my reality. I even fell in love with Christmas thanks to him, so I happily work in his (or dare I say ‘our’?) shop part-time, and push the products with genuine excitement.
The lady seems a bit unsure, but my sales pitch worked, and she’s buying the T-shirt. Whether I’ve convinced her, or she’s just too uncomfortable saying no to me doesn’t matter.
As I make my way through the busy shop, answering questions as I go, my gaze settles on the lone sandwich resting on a plate behind the counter. It’s been over an hour since I made it for Nico, but only one or two bites have been taken while he’s busy by the register, offering smiles to people who are taking far too much time choosing between two baubles.
My man is so hardworking—one of the many things I love about him—but this won’t do. I baked the bread myself, adding sunflower seeds, because Nico loves them, and while it’s sourdough and therefore doesn’t get dry too fast, I want it fueling my boyfriend, not starfishing on the table.
I get behind the counter with the sweetest smile, and just as Nico is about to serve the next customer, I offer her a little apology and pull him away.