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Except for maybe one thing.
I stroked her hair, loathe to wake her but my patience frayed for once. “Wake up, Wintergreen.”
She mumbled something into my skin, a small patch of drool forming beneath her mouth. I laughed at the simple evidence of her humanity as she unfolded around me like a flower blooming.
“What was that?” I stroked her pale hair back from her face, tracing her stunning lips. I never did play out that fantasy of her sucking me off while she slept; it was one to keep in reserve for a rainy day, perhaps.
“Perhaps,” she murmured back, blinking at me, her eyes wide. “Wait–”
“Another day,” I muttered, dropping a quick kiss on her lips that spread in a wide smile I felt to the tip of my cock.
“Can another day be now?” she asked playfully, running her fingertips along my ribs.
Outside the mountain lodge I built years ago, snow drifted around us. It didn't fall as heavily here as it did in the higher peaks, but the Christmas morning air was cold enough to leave a fire running through the night, the ember’s residual glow letting us both sleep naked and wrapped around each other. Fortunately, the location meant the house was remote enough to not worry about prying neighbours while we played the twisted games I didn’t think would ever stop between us.
Or maybe she was just a twisted beautiful little fuck like me, and our games would change over time. Either way, I wouldn’t let her go.
“Don’t you go back to sleep.” I pinched her ass for the pure joy of seeing her shriek.
Her hand closed around my cock through the sheets and squeezed–really fucking hard.
“Never do that again,” she threatened, jerking me dryly through the soft cotton that felt anything but in her torturous hold.
I raised my hands, slipping the object in my left palm to the back. “I surrender.”
Her grip loosened and she stroked me gently. “Good boy,” she purred, her eyes lit with dark fire.
My cock stood up for her, and I let her play, my precum marring the sheets with a translucent spot. “Gonna make me come without getting off? That’s a nice Chrismtas present,” I taunted her sweetly.
“Maybe,” she looked at me through her lashes. “I wouldn't mind–”
That’s as far as I let her get before I flipped us, slamming her onto her back with enough force to expel her breath.
“Dante,” she whispered, gasping.
“Celeste,” I taunted, sweeping my tongue across her mouth and ripping the blanket from between us. “Open your legs.”
Wincing a little from our rough love making the night before–I held her over a wooden chair and fucked her raw from behind–she obeyed my command.
“Be gentle with me?” she begged, though lust darkened the starlight in her eyes.
“Hmm. Should I?” I asked, gripping her hand and forcing the firm band over her knuckle on her ring finger. I sized the thing when she wasn’t paying attention to me while she drew one night and it wouldn’t easily come off. “Or are you asking the wrong questions?”
She frowned at me, then at her hand where a black tungsten wedding band circled her finger set all the way around with tanzanites.
The colour of the sky the night she threw a crossbow bolt at me.
“What is this?”
“Normally, I think I'm supposed to ask, but we’re far from normal.” I caught the back of her neck and bruised her lips with a hard kiss. “You’re marrying me. Merry Christmas, Wintergreen.”
She gasped as I broke the kiss roughly, watching her eyes. Maybe I read the whole situation wrong, but I didn't think so. She’d been abused, locked out of the world and suddenly having the world open to her–it was all too much. I tried to give her a huge room downstairs as a personal studio for her, but she ran from me, sobbing and shaking, unable to accept the gift.
And that was when I knew I couldn’t give her anything more. I had to demand control from her, but I also had to be certain what I was doing was what she wanted.
Which made this moment right here really fucking important.
She swallowed as tears welled and my heart dropped.
