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She nods, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “I wish I would have done that a long time ago with you.”
I take her hand in mine and draw it to my mouth. “I know I'm not perfect,” I tell her.
“Neither am I,” she says, laughing. “Maybe together we can be two broken people who make a whole.”
I run my callused hand over her cheek. “You want to give that a try?”
She nods, eyes glistening. “So badly, Filson.”
“Let’s start by decorating this Christmas tree.”
Her eyes brighten. “Perfect. We only have a few days before Christmas.”
The snow begins to fall as we bring in the Christmas tree. We don’t say anything, but it’s clear that by coming inside the cabin, and not getting in her car, Maple plans on staying the night. Good. I don’t want to argue with her and there’s no way in hell would I let this woman of mine out in this weather. I’ve never been so grateful for snow in my life.
I put some soup on the stove and pour her a glass of wine. She pulls up some Christmas music on her phone and we began to decorate the tree while Sammy sleeps lazily by the fire. My box of ornaments is small, but Maple seems to know how to make do without much. She finds a pad of white paper and a pair of scissors and begins cutting snowflakes. We lace red ribbons through them and hang them on the tree. I have one single strand of lights and we wind it up the trunk.
“I’m going to cut out a little angel so we can place it on top,” she tells me.
I lift her up in my arms and she reaches up, placing her paper angel on top of the Christmas tree.
“It's perfect,” she says as she slides down to the floor. My arms wrap around her and she turns to me, our eyes meeting. “This whole night is perfect.”
I cup her cheeks with my hands, and I kiss her. My body is aching with want for all that she has to offer. All that I want to give her.
“I love you, Maple St. Claire,” I tell her when our lips part. She gasps in surprise and buries her face in my chest. I stiffen. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry for crying,” she says. “It’s just those words, I’ve waited my whole life to hear them from you.”
“I love you, Maple. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She stands on her tippy toes, her arms wrapped around my neck. “Good. Because I might be losing the kitchen, and I’m certainly losing the house and I don’t know where I will live or what I will do… but Filson, know this. I love you too.”MapleThe words I love you seem to melt away all of our inhibitions. The snowflake cutouts fall to the floor from our fingers, landing at our feet as our lips meet. There is no holding back. No resistance, no second-guessing. We are both in it utterly and completely and as his fingers run over the curves of my hips, drawing me to him, I know this is going to be better than the previous times we made love.
“Oh, God. I want you so badly,” he moans as I unbutton his flannel shirt. I breathe the scent of him in; the pine tree smell and wood smoke making me melt as I kiss his neck, running my hands through his hair, all while wanting him against me and inside me. All over me. I feel how hard he is and my body delights in the fact.
His length presses against my belly, making me wet and hungry. “I want you so badly, Filson,” I moan as he pulls up the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head and tossing it aside. I'm in a bright white lace bra. The cups push up my breasts and he leans down, pulling down a cup, drawing my nipple in his mouth, sucking it as my eyes close.
My eyes flutter, closing as my need for him is mounting to something desperate. “Oh, it feels so good,” I tell him, the words mere whispers on my lips. He likes it. Me telling him that this is what I want.
We undress quickly, shedding our public skin and our inhibitions. His fingertips ease down the waistband of my panties. “I want to touch your ass and taste your pussy. I want all of you, Maple St. Claire. I want all of you right now.”
“Then take me,” I tell him, urging him to go faster as I push down his pants and run my hand over his velvety cock. So smooth. So rigid. All mine.
I drop to my knees. “Let me,” I tell him, not waiting for an answer. I've been thinking about sucking his cock ever since I did it the other night. I loved how big he felt in my mouth, how it felt to taste his come when he erupted down my throat. I begin to bob my head up and down as he takes hold of my hair. My chin lifts and our eyes meet. He looks down at me as I take him deeper, sucking him so hard, my tits bounce as I get him off and he grunts, clearly loving every second of it.
