A Very Deveraux Christmas Special

Excitement effervesced through my blood when I heard the key slip into front door. I’d been waiting all damn day for my Baby Girl to show up—she’d been working on an assignment for Mike O’Flaherty for the past few weeks—and I’d been missing her hard, what with my hours at the studio. We’d hardly seen each other.

But that was all gonna change now. With Sheri’s help, I got all the clothes my wife would need packed up and sitting in our suitcases in the living room of our half of the house. Where we were going was cold as fuck-all.

We hadn’t had a decent honeymoon—well, we’d escaped for a week to our apartment in New York, but that didn’t count. Kenna would disagree, because any time we had alone together was special in her eyes. And holy shit, had that been one of the best fuckin’ weeks of my life.

But I loved taking my wife—I always got a thrill, knowing that Kenna was my wife—to faraway places she never thought she’d ever go.

I stood up, too fuckin’ hyped up to sit still a second longer, and Kenna pulled the door open.

To this fuckin’ day, every time she walked into a room, my breath caught and my heart tripped. She was so fuckin’ beautiful, she made me ache to touch her. Her wavy hair had grown out a little, and was tucked behind her ears. I never thought I’d like short hair on her, but I had to admit, it was fuckin’ sexy as fuck. Dressed in her wide-legged jeans and a plain black tank top, with her favorite flip flops on her feet, she was the goddess of my dreams.

She smiled, and then she saw the luggage next to me. “What’s going on?”

Her husky voice teased my senses. Even after being together for more than two years, it still felt like the day she walked into my life, her hand outstretched to shake my own, a cute smirk on her face.

“We’re bustin’ outta here, Baby Girl.”

She cocked an eyebrow at me, glancing at the suitcases again. “For how long?”

“For however long you want.”

Her smile returned and blinded me with the intense joy radiating from it. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

“Fuck yeah.”

That’s my Baby Girl.



Kenna was a secret history nerd. When I’d taken her to Italy last Christmas, she’d spent half the time as my personal tour guide, telling me all about the places we’d visited, the significance of this ruin, the meaning behind that fresco, how the people of Pompeii had died and ended up frozen in volcanic concrete for thousands of years. I loved listening to her excitement, even if I wasn’t paying all that much attention to what she was actually saying.

“We’re in Germany?” she mused when we disembarked NOLA’s Own’s personal jet, reading the signs hanging around Hannover Airport.

“Yup,” I replied, throwing her carry on over my shoulder.

I could see it churning through her head, trying to figure out what was in Germany that I thought she needed to experience.
But it wasn’t really anything in particular. I had been surfing through the internet looking for romantic places to take her for Christmas, and I came across the Dornröschenschloss castle in Sababurg, Germany. From what I’d read, it was the inspiration for the castle where Sleeping Beauty had slept, waiting for Prince Charming, and I guessed that was kind of badass. But there were photos of it covered in snow, and it looked fuckin’ amazing, and I just wanted that for Kenna.

So, I’d booked us their best room and made Sheri pack up all my wife’s warm clothes.

There was a limo waiting for us after we made it through customs—I was a little nervous that I’d be busted with the couple ounces of weed Alys had vacuum packed for me, but we sailed on through without any issues. Our women knew how to smuggle shit. I always wondered how they ended up being so slick about it. Alys had wadded it up in a couple pairs of my socks.

It was a two-hour drive from the airport to Sababurg, and Kenna and I drank a few beers and smoked a couple of spliffs—which the woman had in her fuckin’ bag, for cryin’ out loud—on the way. She was completely enchanted with the scenery of the countryside.

I was completely enchanted with her. She was nothing but smiles and sparkling emerald eyes. I could spend my life just watching my Baby Girl.

Just as the sun was setting, the castle came into view, and she gasped, her eyes silently asking me if this was our destination.

I grinned at her and winked.

“Shut the fuck up!” she squeaked.

“I didn’t say a damn thing.”

She launched herself into my arms, smothering me with kisses. I wrapped her up with me and held her tight, feasting on her sweet mouth. Soon, I was hard as iron and breathless.

The limo pulled up to the front of the castle, and I groaned with defeat. I wasn’t gonna fuck my wife before we could step foot out of the vehicle. I wanted her up in our room, naked, in our bed.

“Come on,” I said hoarsely, depositing her on the seat next to me.

She snorted, poking my massive hard on with the tip of her finger. “You’re gonna be three-legging it in there.”

“And who’s fuckin’ fault is that?”

“Mine!” she barked.

“Too fuckin’ right.”

I was able to deflate while our driver grabbed our luggage and handed it over to a bellhop. Grabbing my wife’s hand, I tugged her into the lobby behind me, on a fuckin’ warpath to get her sweet ass into our room and fuck her half to death.

We were greeted by a petite blonde hostess at the reception desk, who reminded me a little of Brigid, which made me wrap my arms around Kenna while I checked us in. My wife was used to me manhandling the hell out of her, so probably didn’t think twice about it.

We were then led upstairs by the bellhop, and I slipped him some euros as we crossed the threshold.

“Whoa!” Kenna breathed.

I wasn’t too sure what she was whoa-ing about, because the room wasn’t all that grand, but I had to admit, there was something charming about it, and the four-poster bed was an all right size. It was decorated with evergreen boughs, as were the windows and balcony door, giving off a nice holiday spirit.

It was a mild, classy version of our first Pimpin’ Christmas Shag Pad.

There was a fireplace which already had a fire going, red rose petals on the bedspread, and champagne in a bucket in ice, with two glasses ready on a small table in one corner of the room, that I knew my wife wouldn’t touch.

“You like it?” I asked.

“This is fabulous!”

She slowly spun around, taking it all in, a huge grin on her face.

“What do you want to do, Baby Girl?”

“Bathe. Eat. Maybe get laid.”

I busted out laughing. “In that order?”

She glanced at my crotch. “If you can handle the wait…yes.”

“Go jump in the shower. I’ll order room service and join you in a minute.”

“Can you get some more of those beers? Those were awesome.”

“Sure. Anything you wanna eat in particular?”

She shrugged. “You know what I like.”

I did, and it made me feel so amazing. I knew my Baby Girl inside out.



With a couple of steak and potato dinners on the way, I jumped into the shower with Kenna, and started kissing the fuck out of her. She enthusiastically kissed me back, sucking on my tongue, rubbing her tits against my chest, her arms around my neck. Her fingers speared through my hair and pulled.

While this wasn’t a surprise—we could never keep our fuckin’ hands off each other when we were naked—it wasn’t what I had planned.

I broke the kiss, and she mewled in protest.


Her right hand drifted from my head to my dick, her fingers wrapping around me.

I groaned.

She kissed my chin and bit me through my beard.


Her soft mouth drifted down over my chest, kissing her tattoo, before sinking lower.

On her knees before me, my Baby Girl was the most gorgeous sight. Her green eyes met mine head on as she opened her mouth and swallowed me down.

I was helpless in her hands. She could do what she wanted to me, whenever she wanted, and the fact that she could deep throat the fuck out of me was a marvel that never ceased to amaze my ass.

“You want me to fuck your face, don’t you?” I asked her, threading my fingers through the wet strands of her hair.

She nodded, giving me permission to abuse her mouth. I didn’t know why, or how, but she fuckin’ loved it when I went apeshit on her. Not once had she ever called Kashmir on me.

One of her hands slipped between my thighs, giving my balls a squeeze before slipping further back, over my taint, and sneaking into my crack. She wanted to make me come hard and fast, pushing a finger into me.

And, fuck, did I ever. My dick lodged in her throat, her face shoved into my groin, I came and bellowed loud enough to shimmy the tiles off the bathroom walls.

My Baby Girl always made me scream.

And fuck me, could she hold her breath.

Panting, I gently pushed her back as I pulled out. Dropping to my knees, I hauled her into my arms and kissed her precious face. “Damn, Baby Girl.”

We soaped each other up and dried each other off. I fuckin’ loved the feel of her hands on me, almost as much as the feel of my hands on her. Then she busted out her vanilla scented body lotion, and I damn near melted into a puddle of goo at her feet.

Even better? She let me rub that shit all over her. I was on my knees, smoothing it over her thighs and ass, when I buried my face between her legs and had a sweet slice of dessert. She came hot and slick all over my mouth just as a knock sounded at the door.

I left her gasping and shaking as I got to my feet, wiped my face, and threw a towel around my hips. Grinning, I headed for the door to let the room service in with our food.

When the delivery dude left, she came out wearing a fat white bathrobe, her cheeks pink and eyes bright.

Looking at the food, she smiled. “I changed my mind.”

“‘Bout what?”

“I’d like to get laid before we eat.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at her. “Baby Girrrl…”

She looked up at me, all innocent and shit. “Will it keep?”

“That depends.”


“If you do what I tell you to, like a good little wife.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Take off that fuckin’ robe,” I told her.

That shit dropped to the ground faster than I could blink.

I thumbed the air in the direction of the bed. “Now, get your pretty ass on the bed—in the center, on your knees, and close your eyes.”

My Baby Girl scurried to do as I said, and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. When she was in the middle, sitting back on her heels, her eyes closed, I headed for my suitcase and took out one of the Christmas gifts she’d given me two years ago.

The box with the silk cords and blindfold.

“No peekin’,” I warned.

“Promise,” her sweet voice replied.

I joined her on the bed with the box, sitting behind her. Opening it, I picked up the blindfold and slipped it over her head.

“Trust me, Baby Girl?”

“Always,” she breathed.

I grew hard as fuck, feeling her words sink into my skin. My love for this woman was absolute, unconditional. Just as she trusted me, I trusted her. With my heart, my mind, my body.

Her need to feel me was vibrating the air around us. Her soul was calling out to me, begging for the things only I could give her. On some instinctive level, I knew she needed me hard, fast, and relentless.

And she’d get it, once she was ready for it.

“Reach behind your back and grab your elbows.”

My bendy Baby Girl had no problem doing that. Once her hands clasped her elbows, I tied each wrist to the arm with a black cord.

“How’s that?” I asked.

“Good,” she whispered.

“What’s our word, Baby Girl?”


Like either of us would ever forget it.


“Yeah, Baby Girl.”

“I love you.”

My heart erupted into a hot, loving mess. I closed my eyes, savoring the way her words made me feel. Invincible, powerful, and yet weak and shivery all at the same time.

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

She sighed and relaxed, leaning back.

“No, Baby Girl. You sit tight.”

Her spine straightened, waiting for whatever was coming next.

I hauled ass off the bed and searched for my iPod. Popping it into a jack on the nightstand, I selected my classical music playlist—it had all the masters. Then, I crawled back onto the bed, this time in front of her.

Kenna Deveraux, my dream come true, tied up and blind. Hoooly shit. I loved this, loved her, with my whole heart. Crouching down, I kissed her, just above her left knee. Then, a little higher. She sucked in a sharp breath and spread her knees a little more, showing me the center of my universe.

“Was me eatin’ you out in the bathroom not enough?”

“No. It’s never enough. I always need more of you, Phil.”

Fuck, my wife was gonna make me cry like a little bitch if she kept talking like that.

“You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” I murmured against the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Your greedy slut.”

“Is that so?”

She swallowed thickly. “You know it is.”

I breathed in the sweet heat of her, my mouth watering for a taste, but I needed her on fuckin’ fire, because I planned on giving her the fuck of a lifetime soon. She loved the pain that sharpened the pleasure, loved to feel me long after we were done.

I kissed her just above her pubic bone, where once, our baby had grown, a tiny heart too weak to survive. I love you.

“Phil…” she whispered.

I kissed her navel, her sternum, both of her tits, softly tonguing each nipple until they swelled in my mouth.

She squirmed, trying to rub more of herself against me.

“You keep doin’ that, Baby Girl, and I’m gonna spank the fuck outta you.”

She did it again, letting me know that was exactly what she wanted. So, I flipped her face down over my knees, making sure her face didn’t crash into the bed, and gave her perfect ass a hard whack.

I just as quickly pulled her back up, this time with me behind her, grinding my cock into her backside.

“Is that what you want?” I growled in her ear.


I fisted her hair and pressed my mouth to her ear. “Tell me.”

She squirmed, pushing her bum into my groin. “Please, babe. I need your cock in me.”

“Any hole I want?”

Her breathing kicked up a notch. “Yes.”

I shoved her down, her face pressed into the mattress, her ass and cunt on full display for me. Only me.

“Spread your knees more,” I commanded.

She did as I told her, and I rewarded my little slut wife by slowly pushing all of me inside her. In reflex, she clamped on me like a goddamn vise, gripping me as though I could possibly disappear.

“Ease up, Kenna.”

“I can’t!” she cried.

To my shock, her sleek, wet walls started shivering around me in an impending orgasm. I grasped her hips and pounded into her, giving her what she needed.

“FUCK! PHIIIL!” she screamed.

“Damn, Baby Girl,” I panted, slowing my pace until it was just a lazy glide in and out of her. “You make it too easy sometimes.”

She busted out laughing, and I spanked her for that. She groaned and wiggled her bottom.

“More?” I asked.

“Yes, please.”

I spanked her again, hard, twice on each cheek until fat red blooms raised up on her creamy skin. Then I pulled her up so that she was sitting in my lap, grinding into me to take me deeper.

I wrapped my right hand around her throat and gave her a gentle squeeze. My other hand went in between her legs until I touched where we were joined.

My lips caressed over her ear. “You know what?”

“What?” she rasped.

“We’re so fuckin’ different, right?”


“But at the same time, we’re so much alike.” I thrust up into her. “You know what my favorite similarity between us is?”

“Our taste in music?”

I grinned and thrust into her. “That’s a good one, but no. It’s that the freak in you screams out for the fuckin’ freak in me. When it comes to this, there ain’t no other fit for either of us. You get me, you understand me, Baby Girl, and you still want me.”

“Always, babe. Forever and ever.”

“I’ll never stop wanting you, needing you, loving you…” I promised her.

She dropped her head back on my shoulder, making herself more vulnerable. My grasp on her neck loosened, and my hand drifted down to her chest, holding onto her left breast. With my left hand, I rubbed and pulled at her clit until she was moaning and tightening around my dick once more.

I sank my teeth into the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder, and she erupted, drenching me.

“Fuck, I love makin’ you come.”

“Please let me touch you.”

“Hmm…not yet.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Because you need to feel me first,” I told her, pitching my voice low.

She tightened around me again.

“You’re just a slave to my voice, aren’t you?”

“Gods, yes,” she moaned.

Pushing her forward, I grabbed each of her wrists to hold her up, and fucked her so hard, she was screaming her head off.

“Is this what you want, Baby Girl?” I shouted over her.

“Ye-e-es! FUCK!

Once more, she plummeted over the edge, nearly taking me with her.

Not yet, not yet, not yet.

Easing her down onto the bed, I scored my teeth over her neck, making her shiver. Kissing the side of her face, I pulled out.

“Nooo…” she groaned.

“I ain’t done with you, Baby Girrrl. Don’t worry.”

I turned her over onto her back, my eyes filling with the sight of her flushed, sweat slicked body. Her sweet cunt was swollen and wet, the color of ripe strawberries.

I was pretty fuckin’ hungry. And my wife looked pretty fuckin’ tasty. I tossed her knees over my shoulders—

“Ohhh God!”

—and had myself another taste of heaven. She was so sensitive, she writhed beneath my face, her thighs shaking uncontrollably.

“Phil, I can’t!” she choked.

I kissed the bead of her clit gently. “Sure, you can.”

Then I sucked on her clit so hard, she reared off the bed. I filled my hands with her ass, and squeezed brutally.

She sobbed and screamed, but not once did my Baby Girl call Kashmir, so I ate at her until she peaked, her thighs clamping around my head. As she sank back to the bed, limp and drained, I rained kisses on her inner thighs, rubbing my facial hair into her skin.

Raising up on my knees, I thrust home, sinking into her pulsing depths. At moments like these, I felt like I could do this all fuckin’ night. There was no place on earth I’d rather be than balls deep in my wife, my soul mate, my reason for living.

I worked her fast and rough, coaxing one last orgasm from her ravaged body, before erupting like a fuckin’ volcano deep inside her, bellowing her name.

“Please, please, please…” she chanted, reaching through the roaring in my ears.

I lifted her up into my arms so the she straddled my thighs, still semi-hard inside her. “What is it?”

“I need to hold you,” she sobbed. “Please let me touch you now.”

I yanked the bonds from her arms, and she flung them around my shoulders and buried her face in my neck.

“Baby…” I whispered, suddenly afraid. “What happened?”

“I just need to touch you,” she whispered back.

I felt as though I had failed her in some way. Blindly reaching up with my left hand, I slipped the blindfold off her eyes and pushed her back so I could look into them.

“I’m okay,” she assured me. “I loved it, Phil. I just…”

I cradled her face in my right hand. “What?”

“I felt you needed it.”

My stomach slightly caved in. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I just did. And now I am.”

“You know I live for your touch.” I kissed her. “And your smile.” Another kiss. “And your laugh.”

She was beaming at me, sated and radiating joy. My fear dissipated.

“Hungry?” I asked.






The fire had died down, creating a dim orange glow about the room. It was still warm, though. Phil had thrown on more wood before we passed out after dinner.

Crawling out of bed, I headed to the bathroom with a full bladder.

While I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, I wondered what time it was. Outside the windows, it was still dark.

I decided to throw another piece of wood on the fire when I walked back into the room. Gently, I placed a decent sized one on the smoldering coals, watching bright sparks flutter around at the mild disturbance. Within moments, the wood caught the flames, illuminating the place with a toasty light.

I joined Phil once again in the bed, and instead of snuggling my way into his arms, I sat beside him in lotus pose, watching him sleep.

He was just so beautiful. Sprawled out on his back, his left arm stretched out toward my side on the bed, his right arm bent, resting his other hand over his chest piece, his heart. From the peaceful innocence of his face, my gaze travelled over his powerful chest and torso, honed abs, and the sprinkling of a soft happy trail that disappeared beneath the blanket riding low over his narrow hips.

I spent every day by his side, and yet still, he had the ability to render me star-struck.

Holy shit, I’m married to Phil fucking Deveraux.

Even after being together for so long, there were still times where I had to remind myself that this was real. I was truly living the life I’d spent so long fantasizing about. Not only that, but my life was better than anything my pitiful imagination had ever come up with.

And it was all due to my husband.

Phil once told me that there was something inside me that called out to whatever was inside of him, and he just felt what I needed, wanted. There had always been a very deep spiritual connection between us, and tonight, I had felt that all he really wanted was to be held close and cherished.

But more than needing to be touched, he’d wanted to give me what I’d needed, and Phil’s willpower was an awesome thing to behold.

What is it in me that I need our sex to be brutal?

Sinking into my own head, I found the answer easily enough.

My love for Phil was anything but gentle. It was vicious, painful, and all consuming, and when he fucked me like that, I felt it in my body, not just my soul. When he restrained me, when he had absolute control over me, it was what I did to my emotions for him daily. I bound them tight to my heart and released them in measured increments, so that I could actually go out and live a life separate from him—like a normal fucking person did.

If I unleashed that shit all the time, I would never leave his side. I’d do what he threatened, and never let him out of my sight, because it would be too painful.

So, what had Phil needed?

Our porn-style sex was mind-blowing, every fucking time. We never failed to leave the other deliciously sore and sated, sweaty and possibly bruised. Sometimes wounded. It was fun, exciting, and always new.

But my heart, he loved nothing more than looking into my eyes while he lost himself to me, while I lost myself to him. He truly lived for soft touches and glancing caresses, of wet mouths tangled in sublime rhythms. Whispered sighs, drawn out moans, and the muted thump a headboard kissing a wall.

From his face to his feet, I took in the sight of him, assessing with my heart and soul each body part.

I reached forward, caressing his fingertips over his heart. Even in his sleep, my husband recognized my touch, his fingers rising to touch me back. I laced our fingers and pushed his arm back as I leaned over and pressed my lips to his.

“Kenna…” he breathed.

I kissed his cheek, his jaw, his throat. Each kiss prompted him to arch into me, seeking greater contact. Straddling his waist, I kissed the tattoo, his heart, and he sucked in a deep breath. His hand squeezed out laced fingers, while his left hand came up to cup my face.

Our eyes met, and I nearly came from the look in his. Flames of passion and need, love, adoration, a brilliant white-hot dose of lust.

Without breaking eye contact, I dipped my head and kissed his flat belly. As I scooted down, I held his intense gaze and pulled my hand from his grasp. With both hands, I lightly ran them down his chest, creating a wash of goose bumps to rise in my wake.

Between my breasts, his cock twitched, and by the glitter in his eye and smirk peeking through his beard, he’d done it on purpose.

Tugging down the blanket, I revealed Phil’s erection in full power and grinned.

He pulled the Lady Killer on me in response, creating a deep throb to build in between my legs.

From his balls to the head of his cock, I dragged my tongue over him. A rumbling purr emanated from his chest.

“Don’t stop,” he begged, digging his hands into my hair. “But don’t make me come yet.”


He shook his head. “I wanna be inside you.”

I need to be inside you, is what my soul heard.

I took him into my mouth, reveling in his guttural groan when he hit the back of my throat. Phil was my favorite flavor; sweet and salty, fresh, like the taste of an ocean wind.

“Mmm…” I hummed, pulling off him. Sucking on my tongue, I savored the taste of him.

He sat up, holding my face, and pulling me toward him so that he could kiss my mouth and taste himself on my lips.

“What do you want?” he murmured.

What can I do to make you happy? was what he meant.

“You. Just you.”

He smiled and bit his lip. “Just me?”

“Lay back,” I told him.

He slowly lowered himself down. I rose on my knees, his cock in my hands, and positioned him at my entrance.

“Come on, Baby…”

Instead of sinking down the length of him, I pulled his cock forward, rubbing the crown of him over my clit. The already present throb inside me grew heavy. I could feel myself growing even more wet.

Phil’s hands grasped my thighs. “Please. I need to feel you, Baby.”

In one smooth move, I slid down the satin-and-steel feel of him. It never failed to amaze me, how perfectly he stretched me, filling me in more ways than just physical. When Phil was inside me, my heart was full, my soul was complete.

I knew he felt the same.

It was no doubt why we had such an incredibly active sex life. For us, it was simply allowing our bodies to connect as our souls did.

I placed my hands on his chest, pulling up and sinking down.

“Oh God…” I moaned.

His fingers flexed into the flesh of my hips. “You feel me, Baby? Because I can feel your tiny heartbeat.”

“I…I feel you, babe.”

“Do I feel good?”


“Tell me.”

I closed my eyes, focusing my attention purely on the pulsing beauty so deep within me. “You feel like the key to my lock.”

“What am I unlocking?”

“All of me. When I feel you where no one else can go, you make me feel the purest love that exists in our universe. I feel the music inside you.”

“What does it sound like?”

I smiled. “Violins. Cellos. Harps. Drums. It’s a slow beat, and the strings are soft, floating through space and darkness, trickling golden bursts of light…”

“Kenna…” he whispered.

I opened my eyes and looked into his beloved maple-sugar ones. “Am I right?”

He smiled. “You’re always right.”

He lifted me and lowered me back down. Again and again, until he thrust me so high into a cosmos of gorgeous sensation, I didn’t think I’d ever come down. I’d just vibrate with the music pouring out of him until I disintegrated.

“Take me with you, Kenna. Take me with you,” he chanted.

I grasped his hands, lacing our fingers, and pulled him into the cosmos with me, my grip crushing.

“Fuck!” He thrust into me, lifting us both off the bed. “Look at me, Baby. Let me see it in you.”

The willpower it took to open my eyes was immense, but when my heart needed something from me, I delivered. His gaze seared into mine as I melted in on myself, fracturing into an infinite number of fragments.

“So beautiful…” he whispered, just as he hit his own wave, shuddering beneath me. His eyes closed and his neck arched as he unleashed a bellow fit to burst ear drums.

My husband pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. His mouth sought out mine, kissing me breathless.

“My beautiful wife, my gorgeous other half.”

“My whole life,” I said.

He rolled us, so that I was on my back. It had ceased to surprise me a long time ago that he could keep on going. His mouth captured mine in a luscious kiss, his hips rocking against me in the same rhythm as his tongue caressed my own.

I wrapped him up in all of me, holding him as close as I ever had, refusing to venture beyond heaven without him.



We fell asleep with him still inside of me.

I woke up sticky and sore, but filled with Phil, and that made me absurdly happy. He wasn’t hard, and just pulling out of his arms had him slipping out of me. His soft, even breathing hitched slightly as I scooted away from him, but he remained asleep.

Quietly, I made my way to the bathroom to clean up the copious amounts Phil dripping down my thighs.

As I passed by the balcony door on my way back to the bed, I noticed that the sky was lightening, but more than that…

It was snowing. Like huge, fat flakes that built up on the landscape beyond. Snatching up a soft quilt from an armchair, I wrapped it around my shoulders and stood there, watching the novelty of winter blanket the fairytale setting my husband had brought me to.

I didn’t hear him come up behind me. I felt him. As his arms came around me, I leaned back into his chest, absorbing the heat he generated. He was always so warm.

“Merry Christmas, Baby Girl,” he softly said, his lips teasing over my ear.

“It’s become a tradition, hasn’t it? You sweeping me away from the rest of the world for the holidays.”

“Do you mind?”

“No. We spend our lives surrounded by the people we love. I like that this time of year is just ours.”

He hugged me tightly to him. “It has been, since the Christmas I got my little box of sunshine.”


Thank you for reading Phil and Kenna’s first Christmas as a married couple! Hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and Happy New Year!

One thought on “A Very Deveraux Christmas Special”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *