Post providing Goldie with a pat of appreciation, I finish the stroll to the other side where our bedroom is located.

  Opening one of our French doors is enough to grant me access and reveal its empty nature.

  Which I didn’t expect.

  Where the bloody hell is my wife? I swore she would be in bed by now eating cookies and quoting along to The Santa Clause.

  “Love…?” I call out at the same time that I begin removing my jacket. “I am home.”

  “How very I Love Lucy of you to announce,” she teases from the direction of what sounds like the walk-in closet.

  “Still so sassy in spite of knowing what Santa is bringing you.” Playful tsks escape between the gentle draping of my jacket across the bed stool. “I swear you are simply determined to stay on the naughty list.”

  All of sudden, Brie appears across the room in the doorway of our ensuite bathroom wearing only a pair of red lacy panties and the dark maroon tie I had planned to wear for dinner tomorrow night. “Maybe I am.”

  It’s damn near impossible not to groan over how delicious she looks in my attire. “Is that my tie?”

  Her fingers slowly stroke the length in turn delivering caresses to her full tits. “I’m not sure.” She toys with the end while letting her heated gaze linger in mine. “Should I come over there for you to check?”

  “You should crawl over here for me to check.”

  To my surprise, submission is instantly given.

  She slowly lowers herself onto all fours, flips her hair to one side, and begins an unhurried execution of the unusual request.

  Which is also quite unusual. Do not be mistaken. Brie does enjoy occasionally being bossed around or manhandled – if you will – in the sack; however, the more intense or – to some – the more “over the top” behaviors such as crawling or following exact orders or begging for any sort of permission are very bloody rare. We’re talking…like Christmas comes once a year type of an arrangement. And I am honestly fine with it. I prefer my wife sassy to subservient.

  Brie’s lascivious and leisurely movements allow me the proper opportunity to appreciate all of her ever-evolving beauty.

  I love the curves of her hips that have come from carrying and bearing our three children and the toned nature of her arms from packing them around.

  I adore the new beauty marks that have arrived on her shoulder almost as much as the paint splatter tattoo that resides beside it.

  Yes, you are guessing correctly. The red splatter in the middle represents us – a reminder of our many paint related dates and the fact that we met through art – and the smaller splatters along the edge of it symbolize our children. Hm? Oh! Yes! Yes, I do have a piece of art for our family too. I have a paint brushed K with our wedding date as well as their birthdates surrounding it on the same shoulder. We got them together for my birthday last year. I truly believe it helped ease whatever lingering displeasure remained regarding the other tattoo experience with she who shall not be named – nor has been truly active in our circles since.

  The sight of her tits slightly swaying and her dark nipples hardening easily gets me groaning.

  They are bigger than they were when we met – but not nearly to the degree she swears – however her nipples are a shade or two darker than when I first put my mouth around them something that can – apparently – happen from hormonal shite that occurs during pregnancy. And I learned – post Kendall’s birth – that not everything that changes in those nine months just magically disappears or returns to what stasis once was. For instance? Her hair has taken the opposite position of her nipples and stayed a couple of shades lighter. Soph? Now, struggles to have hers grow past her shoulders. Speaking of my pregnant in-law, would now be the wrong time to suggest we have another as well? I honestly would love one more.

  Brie’s arrival in front of me is instantly followed by her sitting back on her hunches and thrusting her chest forward as an offering. “So, Mr. Kenningston…” One small shoulder wiggle is given. “Is it yours?”

  Completely ignoring the swelling of my shaft is impractical but not giving it a squeeze of release is damn near inconceivable. “Of course, that pussy is mine.”

  “I meant…” she let’s the corners of her lips tick upward, “the tie.”

  “I cannot see that from here, love.” A casual kick of my chin is given in the direction of the closest furniture. “Up onto the bench. Give me a better view.”

  For a second time, the order is met with no hesitation.

  No vacillation.

  No snark or sarcasm.

  She simply climbs on top of it, resting her knees on my jacket and palms on our mattress, presenting me the type of view I will never tire of seeing.

  I swear I am going to be bloody ninety years old still admiring my wife’s perfect ass like this. And it will still be perfect then. Because she is perfect. Perfect for me. Perfect to me.

  Logic screams to take my time, to not rush the belt unbuckling process.

  To not fastidiously unbutton my bottoms or yank down my zipper.

  It screams to have patience and composure and to truly relish in the gift I am being given; however, carnality commands I drop my trousers to my ankles.

  Roughly yank the tiny, lacy string aside.

  Bury my cock bollocks deep so that the wetness I can see glistening in the light becomes slathered across them.

  “Ohmyg-” is all that manages to screech out courtesy of the sharp tug delivered to the accessory dangling around her neck.

  The action not only cuts off the words but grants me another grip too enticing to resist. “You have to be quieter, love.” Tightening my hold on it pushes the knot to press into her throat. “We do not want to wake the minis.” She moans in tandem with bucking into my sharp thrust. “Do you need my help?”

  Brie eagerly nods as her soaking muscles clamp down in agreement.

  “Do you want me to be nice while you’re being naughty?” I forcefully yank the tie again prior to leaning over to brush my lips against her ear. “Or should we both be a wee bit naughty because it feels oh so nice?” Louder whimpers prompt me to wolfishly grin. “I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Kenningston.”

  I swiftly twist the accessory around, wind the edge around my palm, and plant the other firmly on her hip for additional stability.

  The instant my fingers flex so does her pussy, savagely steeping my dick in her white-hot heat.

  Barbaric grumbles rattle my chest and encourage me to harshen my hold.

  Hammer my hips.

  Pound rather than rock.

  Grunt and thrust and grunt again while watching her ass literally jiggle on every heave.

  At least until I catch a glimpse of her hand creeping closer to her own thighs.

  That’s when my palm rushes to beat hers.

  To glide my fingers around the edge of panties, across her slick lower lips, and frantically rub the swollen nub anxious for attention.

  “Kellan…” escapes in a choked whisper courtesy of my continuous wrenching of the fabric leash. “Godddddyesss…”

  Ferocious – almost pure beastly – groans seep freely as I feverishly stroke and ferally pump again and again and again, sweat mixing with her sweet stickiness, muted screams fusing with my swallowed growls, frames furiously grinding and wobbling, in their separate but equal pursuits to make one another come first.

  Our relentless need not to be the first to explode backfires rather instantly.

  The tighter and wetter Brie gets, the harder and more ruthless I move, leading us both into the deep end of ecstasy where we both drown.

  While my dick is ceaselessly being drenched, her pussy is incessantly being stretched, the combination so maddening for us both that there’s no stopping our synced shattering. Moans and murmurs are met by murmurs and groans alongside sweltering splashes. Pulsations perpetually pile on top of one another summoning my bollocks to stay drawn upward in order to possibly be blessed by whatever spillage manages to trickle in their direction.

  “I love us being on the naughty list together,” I cheekily whisper over her shoulder. “What do you say we go one more round in the tub to guarantee we stay there?”

  She warmly snickers and shoots me a sassy stare that echoes that of when we first met. “Only if you bring me a hot chocolate in bed afterwards.”

  “Deal.”

  What can I say? Some things never changing is actually quite a gift. The type of gift money cannot buy, yet one I will always be thankful for, not simply this season, but every season I am fortunate enough to have Brie in my life.

  **

  Thank you for reading Deck The Palace (A Duched Series Holiday Novella)! I hope you enjoyed this laugh-out-loud, holiday, royal romance!

  You can grab an exclusive FREE BONUS EPILOGUE down below!

  More good news! We have one more round of love for Prince Kellan and Princess Brie in Royally Loved (The Bonuses)!

  Keep reading down below to grab a SNEAK PEEK at the royal romance collection that features new Valentine’s Day material!

  Be sure to check out my other contemporary, holiday romance novella Priority (The Private Series #4) where you will find how The Wilcoxes overcame their own Christmas complications.

  And don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter to never miss an update OR free book!

  ***

  Keep reading for a sneak peek of a Valentine’s Day scene from Royally Loved (The Bonuses)…

  AFTER the Deck The Palace BONUS Epilogue…

  You Make Miso Happy

  (Kellan)

  She may hate these events; however, the people at them love her. She is quite impossible not to love. Lucky for me, she loves me in return. Less today. More tomorrow, I am certain.

  My wife immediately leans over to quietly investigate the new arrivals, “What the hell is the purple melted crayon on my plate?”

  “That,” I warmly chuckle, “is ube ice cream.”

  “And the melting piece of pound cake with strawberry chunks on top is actually…?”

  “Miso burnt Basque cheesecake with dragon fruit.”

  “Not all of those words were in English,” she sasses and picks up her spoon. “And the ones that were do not belong by the ones they were beside.” Our humor-filled stares find one another’s. “Trust me. I’m an educator. We know these things.”

  “You teach art not English.”

  “I still have to have a good grasp on it. And,” additional snark has her waving the utensil around, “because I’m from the states, I have to know two types of English, making me extra well versed in which words do not belong next to which words.”

  Swallowing another snigger is impossible. “That is asinine.”

  “So is your personalized tie clip but you wear it anyway.”

  ***

  Find out exactly how fun they have on Valentine’s Day along with some of the other bonus material you may have missed throughout the series in Royally Loved (The Bonuses)!

  ***

  Did you enjoy reading Deck The Palace (A Duched Series Holiday Novella)? I would appreciate you leaving a review if you did!

  OTHER WORKS

  Do you love EASTER EGGS in books? Well, mine are often full of them and this one is no exception.

  Here are links to other stories/places/people that were mentioned/referenced in the book!

  Did you catch all of these?

  The Wilcoxes (Private Series)

  Georgian ArKtecture (Waiting)

  The Frost Luxury Hotel/Frost Beachside Resorts (Free-Form: The Extended Edition)

  Bennett Enterprises (The Bennett Duet)

  Manu (Redneck Romeo)

  NHL (Dalvegan Dragons)

  Vlasta University (The Hockey Gods Series)

  Camelot Misfits (Camelot Misfits MC Series)

  Applecourt, Michigan (Aleatory)

  The Lawsons (Eden)

  Highland (Compassion: The Extended Edition)

  3p (Taming of the Crew)

  GRATITUDE:

  The list of people who assist in this entire process is truly too many to name. So rather than run the risk of forgetting anyone, I want to just say thank you to EVERYONE. Readers, bloggers (new and old), friends, family, reviewers, and street teamers…you make me feel like life is constantly worth celebrating. Thank you for supporting me and allowing me to connect you to other worlds not just during the holidays but every day.

  Until next time…

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