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"What are we doing today?"

"Not much, considering…" I nod toward the window.

She follows my gaze, and her mouth drops open. "Whoa, it’s a snowstorm out there."

"It is. And it’s supposed to go on for a few days."

"A few days?" She turns to me. "So we’re stuck inside here?"

"Seems that way."

"Hmm." She sits up, and the sheet falls to her waist. "I wonder how we’re going to fill our time?"

* * *

Perhaps, that was a rhetorical question. There's never been any question in my mind that I'm going to use the time to get to know every inch of her body thoroughly. And she seems perfectly amenable to my plans.

I took her in our bed, again, then made us lunch. For dessert, I had her on the island. And I told her I'm not much a dessert-eater—ha! I let her catch a nap while I worked out, needed to keep up my energy for the coming days, after all. Then, it was an early dinner, for which I reheated a casserole.

Post dinner, we curled up in the settee in front of the fire while the snowfall outside was so dense, it felt like we were marooned on an island.

She stretched out, and I read to her from one of her spicy books. She began to squirm, and when she looked at me with her dilated eyes, I knew what she wanted. I positioned her on the bed, on her knees with her behind in the air and a pillow under her chest. When I pulled her arms back and tied her wrists to her ankles, she moaned with excitement. The cum running down her inner thighs, and the gleaming pink of her pussy told me how turned on she was. Which, in turn, turned me on. There was so much wetness, I scooped it up and used it to lubricate her back channel. She shuddered. I thought she’d protest, but she pushed out her butt in invitation. I checked in with her, made sure she called me by the name only she does, then I fucked her there. I made sure she orgasmed before I allowed myself to come. Then, I made sure to clean her up before I curled around her and fell asleep.

When I wake up, the light coming in through the windows is a golden yellow. It's stopped snowing, and the sun illuminates the arches of the clouds in the sky and highlights her curves. She’s standing naked at the window, with her hand pressed into the glass. The light turns her hair to a cloud of spun gold, and outlines the dip of her waist, the flare of her round bottom. My cock hardens at once. Without conscious thought, I prowl toward her, then wrap my arm about her waist and bring her against my naked body. Apparently, now that I’ve shown myself naked to her, I feel comfortable enough to stay that way.

"Mmm." She turns around and reaches up to touch my face. "Merry Christmas."

I tilt my head, unable to bring myself to say the words. There was a time when I looked forward to this time of year, when I threw myself into the spirit of the season. When I led Advent services, led community efforts, visited the older parishioners at home to bring them the Eucharist. I also presided over the Christmas Eve Mass, and I enjoyed it. I used the season to help families reconcile differences and learn the importance of helping others. I was good at my chosen line of work.

Now? It all seems so pointless. To have believed in something and been happy at that time… I suppose, that counts for something. It certainly helped me through some tough times, providing hope when I was bereft. Only now, I question if my faith was misplaced? I believed…and was let down. This time, I'm not leaving anything to chance. Or some nonexistent or uncaring god. This time, I'm in control. I’ll make sure I get what I want… Her.

I cup her cheek, then bend and kiss her lips. "Sleep well?"

"I did." Her lips curve in a smile.

So beautiful, so open, so happy, so everything I’m not. My heart catches. I tighten my grip on her.

Her forehead furrows. "And you?"

"Never better." No nightmares, no ghosts from the past haunting my thoughts. I feel refreshed and full of energy and…my cock throbs between us. "Horny."

She glances down, then up at me, her eyes wide. "Again?"

"If you’re too sore—"

She shakes her head, then pulls out of my grasp. "But you’ll have to catch me."

55

Mira

I saw the play of expression on his face, knew he was thinking of things he wouldn’t share with me. And I’ll admit, it upsets me. I want to confront him about it, but if I do, it’ll cause him to shut down, which I don’t want. Especially after how he took me last night. Tying me up is how he expresses his emotions toward me. Maybe he can’t say the words aloud, but how he worships me with his body tells me he's halfway—more than halfway— to falling in love with me. And I don’t want to spoil the intimacy that’s sprung up between us.

Marooned here in this lighthouse, miles from anywhere, it’s just him and me, and I want to enjoy the feeling. I want to…make him laugh, lighten the thoughts he’s having. I want to just forget about the real world for a while. Which is why I slip out of his embrace and taunt him to catch up. And he doesn’t disappoint. A sly look comes into his eyes, and he prowls forward.

I take a few steps back, stumble against the settee, straighten and move around it. His lips curl as he continues to walk toward me. He knows he’s going to catch me. I know he’s going to catch me. But… I’m going to make him work for it.

I scramble back, cursing my boobs which flap around my chest. But then, he notices them, too. His gaze locks on my chest, and it’s his turn to stumble. Holy shit, he’s distracted by my body. He seems to love my figure—always tells me so, shows me how much he enjoys it in how he handles my body, but I’m self-conscious enough that I need constant reassurances. And what’s more of an ego boost than to have this gorgeous, confident man lose his footing when he sees my boobs?

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