"Seduction Series" Part 1: Fruitcake

by Aspara

"Lita?"

The heavy front door creaked open, bringing in a chill gust of snowy wind that further tangled his chestnut curls. Nikolas shut the door behind him hurriedly, hanging up his frosted black jacket on the rack.

"Love, are we ready to go yet? I’ve gone and promised Kenneth and Mina that we wouldn’t be late, especially not on Christmas – "

Nikolas cut himself off, chuckling quietly. Soft strains of "Swingin’ Christmas" drifted richly in from the kitchen, Lita’s own honeyed-husk voice layered above the mellow notes. Obviously, she couldn’t hear him. Silently, he padded towards his wife’s domain, breathing in…

The tempting fragrance of mixed walnuts, smoky chocolate, candied cherries and figs, and cinnamon tickled Lita’s nose as she poured brandy liberally over the mixture. She set the murky bottle down and gently stirred the liquid in, careful not to tear the chopped fruits. Lita always cooked by hand and instinct, feeling her way through a recipe written behind her eyelids. The resultant perfume, awash in chocolate and pungent spice, reminded Lita of his scent, of his hands in her hair and his lips on her throat.

Forest-colored eyes closed as Lita swayed slowly to the music, the strap of her gown slipping over her smooth shoulder. Somewhere a timer went off, and Lita’s eyes snapped open. Almost dreamily, she danced her way over to the small ball of dough awaiting her expert touch.

Melting-dark eyes opened wide, the only indication on Nikolas’s face of his arousal. He gripped the wall tightly with whitening knuckles as he silently watched his wife work.

The russet silk he’d given her for her birthday (oh, that’s not all you gave her, is it? he thought wickedly) cleaved tenderly to her taut waist and hips, hanging onto her shoulder by one thin strap and displaying an expanse of milky skin in the back. Leave it to her to wear a gown like that half-zipped, to spend her last few minutes cooking rather than dressing up…

Nikolas felt flame coiling up from the pit of his belly as Lita’s fingertips sank into the pliant dough, reminding him entirely too much of…

Lita caught her breath going harsh and ragged as she kneaded the yielding mash of cinnamon and floury paste. The tiniest of smiles graced her lush mouth as she remembered her palms smoothing over his tawny back, his broad shoulders. He’d crushed her hands to his smiling mouth, his breath tattooing her sensitive skin (smelling of cloves and black coffee she remembered irrelevantly).

Allowing the vivid memory to fade with the last notes of the song playing, she added the fruits and nuts to the mixture, savoring the salty-sweet texture of the dough. She glanced at the clock. They’d be late, but it didn’t matter. They always were late, sometimes for a good reason. And sometimes not, she laughed knowingly to herself.

Lita’s adroit fingers quickly spread the slightly oozing mixture in a silver pan, and she slid the fruitcake into the hot oven. She turned to her husband, who leaned indolently against the opposite wall, his hot gaze clashing with hers.

They stayed where they were for a few moments, the only sound the click of the record player wand. Nikolas remained utterly still, his face deadpan.

Does she know what she does to me?

Lita fought to control her harsh breath, to conceal the heightening flush on her creamy skin. She knew her efforts hid nothing from his always-watchful eyes, and so she deliberately turned her back on him, busily setting the timer. Her ears pricked slightly, waiting to hear a sound from his direction.

Finally, Nikolas uncurled himself from the wall and advanced towards her, catlike. His hands settled firmly on her shoulders, his dark tan startling against the ivory of her skin. He moved to zip up the gown.

"Don’t."

Lita turned slowly in his arms, naked desire written on her face that made his hold on her reflexively tighten. She stood on tiptoe, her lips just brushing his ear. He bent slightly to hear her words, smiling against the silk of her hair.

"What do you think of staying home for Christmas?"