Epilogue

Georgia

Five Years Later

"Daddy," I moan, rocking my hips back to take more of him. His hand comes down on my ass, leaving behind a sting that bleeds to pleasure. I moan for him again, lifting it higher.

His hand plunges into my hair to crane my head back. He doesn't pull hard, just enough to remind me that he's the one in charge here. Or so he pretends. We both know that I have the real power in this bed though. One word from my lips and everything stops.

I don't want that though. God, no.

"More," I plead, begging like always. It drives him crazy when I beg for more.

"Greedy little girl," he growls, covering my mouth with his. His tongue plunges into my mouth, his kiss hard, deep…greedy. I'm not the only one who can't get enough. He can't either. It's been five years, and he still can't keep his hands to himself. "You love the wicked things daddy does to you, don't you?"

"No," I lie. It only makes him harder.

He smacks my ass again, pulling another cry of bliss from my lips.

"Don't lie, baby girl," he growls. "We both know you love when daddy can't keep his dick out of you. It's why you're always climbing into my lap, begging me to hold you." He bites my lip, his hand in my hair tightening. "You fucking love when I take what I want."

He's not wrong. I love everything he does to me.

His hand dances down my cheeks, spreading them. A moment later, I feel his thumb against my back entrance. I'm so wet, it doesn't take much effort for him to slip it inside me. He works it in and out, turning me into a sobbing, incoherent mess of desire.

"Lie to me now, little one," he says.

"I…I… Daddy," I sob instead, my back bowing as my orgasm hits. I come hard, slamming myself back against him again and again. He's so deep I feel the head of his erection against my cervix. The pain mingles with the pleasure, overwhelming my senses.

He roars behind me, following me over the edge. His sticky seed fills me until it's dripping down my legs. My arms give out. I fall forward.

Blaze catches me at the last second, flipping me onto my side.

"Careful, little one," he croons, running his hand over my swollen belly as if to remind me that I'm pregnant. It's hard to forget. I feel like I'm as big as a house…and I still have two full months to go. Blaze doesn't mind though. He loves seeing me growing bigger with his babies.

"Sorry, daddy," I say, curling up on his pillow.

He follows me down, seaming his body to mine. His lips ghost along my shoulder and then the side of my neck. "It's okay," he croons in my ear. "Daddy has to take care of both his girls."

"Mm. I love you."

He smiles against my skin. "Enough to help me put together the dollhouse Santa bought the girls?"

"I guess so," I whine, making him chuckle.

He squeezes my ass. "You're lucky you're so fucking cute when you're sleepy, Georgia. Otherwise, I'd be fucking an enthusiastic yes out of you right now."

"I hate manual labor."

He chuckles again, running his hand down my hip. "I know you do, but it's Christmas. The girls will be up before the sun, so we have to do it tonight."

Livvy and Penelope have been begging for a dollhouse for months. At three and four, they already have Blaze wrapped around their little fingers. He spoils them rotten. I know he's going to be the same way with the baby when she gets here. He's an amazing daddy to all of us.

I love him so much. When I was offered the job modeling lingerie for his company, I never dreamed that this is how it would turn out. I wanted it so damn badly, but I never really thought I had a chance. Blaze proved me wrong. He's been making every single one of my dreams come true for the last five years.

I model exclusively for the company now. He books shoots all over the globe, just so I can see the world. When the first campaign hit, it did incredibly well. I kept my promise though and didn't model lingerie again…until Christmas three years ago. Alaric and the marketing team wanted to recreate fashionable Santa. I got to spend the whole shoot draped across Blaze. The photos still make their rounds every Christmas. It drives Blaze crazy in the best way.

Every time he sees them, he comes to find me. He fucks me until I'm pleading for mercy, growling the whole time about other men trying to take what's his. It's pretty obvious in the photos that I belong to him. The heat in his eyes, the possessive way he holds me…there's no hiding that this elf has been claimed.

He kisses my shoulder again and then climbs from the bed. I snuggle up with his pillow, my eyes closed as I listen to him moving around. I think I doze because the next thing I know, he's cleaning me up.

"Up, little one," he says, sliding a t-shirt over my head when he's done.

I grumble a protest. I'm so sleepy. With Livvy and Penelope, it was the same way. All I wanted to do was eat, sleep, and have orgasms. Luckily, Blaze was more than happy to oblige. It's harder this time. The girls are full of energy. Getting them down for a nap takes an act of Congress. Blaze has been working from home a couple days a week so he's here to help with them, but I never want to nap when he's here.

Once he has his t-shirt on me, he quickly throws on a pair of sweats. I lick my lips, watching him. He is still so damn sexy to me. He's thick everywhere, solid all the way through. I love everything about his body, from the hair on his chest to the thickness of his thighs to the tattoos he got for me and the girls.

"Keep looking at me like that and this dollhouse is going to take all night," he growls, picking me up from the bed. I wrap my arms around his neck, letting him carry me. I don't even bother to ask for panties. His t-shirt is basically a dress on me, and I already know he'll tell me no. He's as bossy as ever.

Our house is a winter wonderland. Lights and garland wrap around the banister of the stairs. A nativity stretches across the mantle of the fireplace. Our Christmas tree is a mishmash of ornaments made by the girls and those we've collected over the last five years. Gift-wrapped packages are piled beneath. The girls love to shake them every day and try to guess what's in them. Their guesses are always wild. A pony. Five dogs. Chocolate cake. They giggle the whole time, trying to outdo one another.

"What's that?" I ask, smiling when I see the little box hanging from the branches of the tree. It wasn't there when I went to bed.

"Guess Santa came early and left you something," he murmurs, pressing his lips to my temple before easing me down to my feet. One big hand brushes over the curve of my ass before he taps my hip. "Go find out, little one."

I practically race forward, making him laugh. The box is tied to the branch with a little red bow. I carefully remove it, eager to see what's inside. He spoils me all the time, but he spoils me extra on Christmas. I gave up trying to convince him not to do it. He just says that I'm his baby girl and he'll do whatever the heck he wants.

He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around me while I peel the paper off the box. He kisses my neck, slowly driving me crazy. I love how affectionate he is. He doesn't care who is around or what they think. If I'm close, his hands are on me.

"Blaze," I whisper, staring at the ring in the box. It's a platinum infinity knot. Diamonds march across one loop, rubies the other. It's gorgeous. I slip it from the box, tears pooling in my eyes when I see the inscription.

For my baby girl. I love you, daddy.

"It's so beautiful," I say, turning in his arms to face him.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, tipping his head down to claim my lips in a sweet kiss. "My life is beautiful because you're in it. Five years ago, I dreaded Christmas because I knew I'd be losing you after the holiday. And then you looked up at me with stars in your eyes and told me you were always thinking about sitting on my lap. You changed my whole world that day, Georgia. You taught me what it means to be a daddy, a husband, and a father. Christmas is my favorite time of year now. Because of you."

"Daddy," I sob, flinging my arms around him. My belly gets in the way, but I don't even care when he wraps his arms around me, kissing away my tears.

"I love you, little one."

"I love you," I whisper back.

He slips the ring out of the box and onto the ring finger of my right hand. His cocoa eyes light up as he brings my hand to his mouth, trailing kisses across my knuckles. I can tell by the look in his eye that it's going to be a long night. I know it is when he growls my name and pulls me closer, his touch turning possessive.

I don't mind. Playtime on Christmas is my favorite. Santa is a wicked, wicked man.

And he's all mine.