“It smells like they might,” Norrell remarks. The scent of the freshly cut trees fills the air as if we’re standing in an evergreen forest.
We finally spot their balsam firs, and I can’t help but gravitate toward the tallest, fullest, most stately tree. It would fit perfectly in the living room. All the trees are enchanted so that they won’t drop needles for at least a month to last through Yule. It keeps them bright and fresh, too.
“Mother Earth, that was easy. I think we’ve found it.” I turn my grinning face up to his as I sweep my hand toward the tree.
“A good choice,” he agrees, his large hand squeezing possessively around my hip. His touch feels dangerous. “Should I tie it to the roof and then pick up everything else we need?”
“Alright,” I breathe raggedly, betraying far too much.
His expression turns longing as we gaze at each other. I loop my arms around his shoulders, closing the small distance between us. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. His other hand finds its way to my back, rubbing up and down my spine in a comforting gesture. I feel blanketed by his warmth, like it’s the safest place I could be. Though that is a fiction I’ve already fallen for. I need to remember that.
Breaking away from our embrace, I guide us toward the counter to pay for the tree. Norrell handles taking it to the Wagoneer while I pick out bundles of boughs and pinecones todecorate with. We drive to the grocery store afterward to pick up rings of dried apple and orange slices the store has already prepared for the holiday, as well as bags of fresh fruit and other supplies. He places a gallon of cider, spices, and fresh cranberries in our basket. He seems to already have a plan for the evening.
By the time we return home, I’m already eager to start decorating. In the past, I’ve invited Acton and Walt over to help. But this year is different for so many reasons. It seems important that Norrell and I do this together. Like sharing this tradition again after so long marks a meaningful change between us, as scary and complicated as that is to imagine.
I open the front door for him as he hauls the tree inside. I then dash over to hold the stand firm to the ground while Norrell slides the tree into it. I tighten the metal prongs that hold it in place. With only a few adjustments, the tree stands perfectly straight. After returning from washing the sap from our hands in the powder room downstairs, we stand back, admiring our lush, festive Yule tree.
“Beautiful,” I murmur. He hums his agreement, though I catch him out of the corner of my eye watching me instead. My face heats under his searing gaze as I turn toward him.
“Ada,” he groans as his hands cup my jaw, rubbing the roughened pad of his thumb along my cheek with such gentleness. When it seems like he might lean down to kiss me, he pulls me into his body instead, resting my head against his chest. I sink into him, slinging my arms around him low on his waist, holding him just as fervently. Though he makes no other movement, I can feel the hard ridge of him against my belly, hot and hungry. It sparks an equal hunger in me, a fiery pressure coiled in my core. I’m conflicted, knowing my attraction to him is unwise but craving how good he can make me feel in the moment.
“My ember, tell me to stop,” he begs as his hands squeeze and pull at my flesh, working their way down my backside. He has not called me his ember in a long time. It stirs long-suppressed emotions, a driving desire for intimacy.
“Don’t stop.” My voice cracks with my assent, a decision made in the heat of the moment. If I told him to, he’d respect my decision and fully back off. Mother Earth, I so badly want to feel good for a change. He’s the only one who can make me feel the way I long to right now, bringing me some solace when everything feels so hopeless.
He hoists me up, his arms supporting me under my rear. I wrap my legs around his middle, bunching up my long skirt to my waist in the process, aligning our overheated cores. I subtly work myself along him, unable to control myself. He growls low into my ear, nipping the sensitive skin. His filed down claws press gently but excitingly into my hips as he holds me up. He carries me all the way upstairs to my bedroom. When he nudges the door closed, I expect him to lay me down on the bed. Instead, he pushes me up against the wall, grinding the hard bulge in his pants against my core.
My legs can’t reach the ground to give me any purchase. They dangle in the air when I unhook them from his waist. I’m at his mercy to give me relief. I moan at the loss of control, clutching wildly at his hard chest and broad shoulders. The sound spurs him on, as he nibbles up my neck until finally our lips crash together, his kiss full of so much pent up passion. He’s gentle at first, almost reverent as he brushes his lips lightly, tentatively on mine, like he’s trying—and failing—to contain himself and savor the moment. It’s at odds with the rest of his body that has primally pinned me to the wall. When his control breaks, his tongue plunges deep into my mouth, the sweetness turning to heat as it dominates mine.
When he comes up for air, he pulls his hips back slightly, still holding me up by one hand, and reaches between us with the other to unbutton his pants and tug them below his hips. He reaches into his boxer briefs and pulls out his full, thick length, a slightly darker blue than the rest of his skin and as heavily veined as I remember. He tucks the waistband under his large, fuzzy testicles. As I watch, he grabs hold of the front of my panties and rips them clean through, exposing my wide-open heat.
“I dreamt of this sight for years. The prettiest pink flower just waiting to be pollinated,” he groans as he stares at my pussy.
I feel my channel pulse at the lewd words. My breaths grow more ragged as my need reaches new heights.
“Your pussy likes the sound of that. She is begging for me,” he rasps. His hand guides his cock and rubs its tapered head up and down my pussy and circling my clit, coating it in a thin layer of his come that’s already streaming from the wide slit that runs across his hefty cock’s tapered head. “Are you ready, my ember? Ready to be filled by me?”
“Yes, I need all of you deep inside me,” I whine.
He hums raggedly. “Good girl, telling me what you need.” He taps the head directly on my clit to reward me. It sends shockwaves through me, like I could come from that alone.
We both watch as he drags his cock downward, finally lining himself up at my entrance, and pushes in. He stretches me wide open as he slowly enters, every bulging vein dragging across my inner channel. I whine despite myself. I nearly forgot how much there is of him. My pussy feels so tight and full inside as I get closer to taking all of him. There’s no feeling like his entire rigid cock inside me, the exquisite fullness of it. When I’ve taken him to the root, he fully pins me to the wall with his hips alone. My legs still hang in the air, bracketed on each side of his waist.
“I need to see all of you,” he commands, letting go of my thighs, he takes hold of the bottom of my sweater and guides my arms through the sleeves to take it off. He follows that with my bunched-up skirt, which I help shimmy out from behind me and then he pulls it over my head as well. My bra is next, tossing it onto the pile on the floor. “So much better. There should be nothing between us as I make you mine again.”
“Yes, I’m yours Norrell. I always have been,” I cry, needy and ready for him to move. Mayhap I shouldn’t admit that to him, but I can’t take it back now.
“Ada, there has only ever been you. Once I met you there could never be anyone else. Do you understand? My body is yours. My heart is yours. You are it for me. Always have been. Always will be,” he states firmly, honestly, staring deep into my eyes, making me understand the truth of what he is saying.
“Give me everything,” I beg on a ragged breath.
“Forever,” he growls as he circles his hips, grinding his cock inside of me.
I keen at the unbelievably deep feeling of him, rubbing my inner channel with the grooved texture of his cock. He plucks at my nipples, bringing me close to the edge already. “Mother Earth!” I sob, overwhelmed by the sensation. Still grinding and circling, tunneling into me, he brings the tip of a callused finger to my clit and rubs it lightly. Bright white flashes behind my eyes as I jettison into my orgasm, crying out Norrell’s name.
“Take your pleasure on your cock, good girl. It is all yours to fill you whenever you want,” he murmurs into my neck as he licks a stripe to my shoulder. His warm hands slide steadily up and down my arms, soothing me as I recover.
“Would you fill me even more?” I ask, still catching my breath.
