Sirah

In the end, Saul had brought a black bin bag for all the discarded wrapping paper and packaging. He had definitely hacked my phone and laptop for him to have bought me items that I had been considering buying. Currently, I held a clear glass dildo in my hand. He had left the worst to the last, a whole box full of sex toys, from a tame blindfold to painful looking gem adorned nipple clamps. There were at least six various dildos and vibrators. I’d lost count.

“Exactly how many dildos or vibrators do you think I need?” I asked curiously.

“I wasn't sure, but if I had a vagina, I’d want a variety,” he said with a frown, marrying his forehead.

I waited for him to laugh, but he was serious as he continued to mull over my question.

“What on earth did you buy your girlfriends?” I asked, astonished that he thought a woman would need so many.

“The last girlfriend I had was in Uni, which was more of a casual arrangement,” he said as he rubbed his beard.

No wonder he was clueless .

I glanced at the Christmas family tree he had on the fireplace.

“And how many children have you planned for us?” I asked dryly while nodding towards the fireplace.

“Three were a starting point. We can add more if you want,” he said with a devilish smirk. “You might as well start a name spreadsheet for the one that’s in your egg right now.”

I gasped at his words and threw the glass dildo at his head, but his reflexes were too quick. He caught the damn thing before it connected with his thick skull.

“Just think, by next Christmas, there will be three of us. , Saul, and baby Winthorpe,” he continued.

I hesitated to scrutinise his features and wondered what an Okira/Winthorpe baby would look like. He was a handsome man, and I loved his dark brown eyes. Compared to Ryan’s icy blue eyes, Saul’s eyes had warmth and depth to them. I blinked when Saul began to rub his hand over his mouth and beard.

“Do I have crumbs in my beard?” he asked anxiously. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the small gesture of vulnerability was endearing.

I swallowed down my emotions and shook my head. The baby would be okay if he or she didn’t inherit his warped sense of perception. I looked away from him to consider if madness was contagious because I sat in front of his morbid black Christmas tree, imagining our non-existent baby.

When he took me upstairs, he opened up a door, and I peered into his walk-in wardrobe. It was a whole room within a room. I slipped past him and walked around the pristine wooden fixtures. One side was empty, with just hangers on the railing. The other side was full of suits and an array of polished shoes.

“I cleared that side for your things,” he said as he opened a drawer.

I twirled around at his words, but he was busy pulling out two matching Christmas jumpers. The closet space was forgotten as I stared at the black and silver sweaters.

“Am I replacing Seth? Do you miss doing all these twin things with him?” I asked curiously.

“What? No, we have lived separately for nearly ten years,” he said with a frown. “I thought women liked matching Christmas clothes.”

“Hmm, I think you like it more than most,” I said as I touched the soft woollen sweater.

“Would you consider getting a matching tattoo?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

“Absolutely not,” I said because matching clothes was one thing, but inking my body for life, no thanks.

His crestfallen face made me smile.

“You wouldn't know if you were asleep, though,” he said with his smile turning sinister.

“Just try it and see what I do to you,” I said through clenched teeth.

We had a staring contest, with neither of us looking away until he sighed.

“Fine, matching jumpers it is,” he said, and I relaxed because it was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

God, I would have to keep a sharp eye on him because of his hare-brained ideas .

He’d lulled me into a false sense of security because as soon as we came out of his closet, he had me face down flat on the bed.

“I don't want you leaving the house unless your knickers are full of my cum,” he said as he rubbed his hardening dick against my ass. “Every time you walk, sit or socialise with someone, I will know you're wearing my cum soiled knickers.”

Oh, my Lord. The man was a freak. But why was that so hot?

He was peeling away my Hamish pyjamas and underwear down my ass before he pulled the top off.

“You have no idea how tempting this ass is,” he murmured as he cupped my ass cheeks. “How long I envisioned seeing you like this.”

“How long have you been stalking me?” I asked as he turned me around, and I couldn't take him seriously with Hamish all over his pyjamas.

“Too long,” he said as he whipped his top off.

I placed my foot over his crotch, and he pulled it up to kiss the top of it.

“I love this nail polish colour on you,” he said as he rubbed his thumb over my dark red toenail. “But I love the colour of your pussy even more.”

With that, he sank to the floor and put my legs over his shoulders. I could get used to a few of these new Christmas traditions.