Page 31 of Boats, Moats, & Root Beer Floats

“Not your fault.” He leaned down to kiss me. “I tried but I hadn’t been interested. Not until I met you.” His kiss deepened as he pushed my legs apart with his knees, nudging his thick cock against me. “I just want you, Lindy.”

I wanted to cry for him. Sob at the unfairness of everything life had thrown his way. But also…I wanted this man in all the ways that counted right now.

“Yes, please,” I mumbled back before his kiss engulfed us both and he pushed inside me.

A scream built in my throat, pleasure blindsiding me too fast but Covin’s heavy lidded eyes filled with that dark intensity that promised me he wouldn’t yield to my begging him to slow until I caught my breath.

Part of me didn’t want him to slow.

Long fingers squeezed my hip. His thumb traced a searing path along the inside of the bone as I bucked up to meet him. Skin met skin as I struggled to wrap myself around him the way I wanted but he took over like I knew he would. The way some broken part of me craved. Needed, if only from him.

And so I…let go.

The growl that rumbled through his chest when I surrendered to him sent tiny shocks rippling over my body right through to my fingertips. I cried into his shoulder, digging my nails in as I held on and let him take us to the edge of bliss and beyond. His roar filled the room, overwhelming my cries. Tears blurred my vision as I fell back onto the pillow, aching and pulsing and panting.

“Love, tell me you can breathe.” Covin cupped my cheeks, peering into my face as he checked in with me. His thumbs brushed the tears away from the corners of my eyes. “I hurt you?” His brow creased as he swore softly.

“No.” I tried to shake my head but he held me too tightly. “You didn’t hurt me. I’m just— You’re a lot. In a good way. I’m not used to this yet.”

“Get used to it.” His gruff tone spoke of possession and defiance against a reality I knew would pull us in opposite directions in a few weeks.

He had a life to live. I had nothing to return to.

For now, wrapped in the arms of a man I wanted to open my heart to and give him everything the way we just did together, I could pretend that future would be alright.

Lie to myself for a little longer.

Merry Christmas, Lindy.

I turned my head into the pillow, facing away from him as he tucked his longer body around mine and let my tears fall silently into the downy pillow where he couldn’t see.

Though I thought he might understand anyway.

My body ached in places that never ached before. Clearly, having an older lover meant different things to my usual, nonexistentdating pool. Or maybe my dating pool simply lacked in all departments.

Even so, despite my earlier tears, a sense of peace pervaded me that hadn’t been present…ever. I never remembered feeling this way as I lay back in Covin’s arms where they draped around me. He pressed a salted mini pretzel to my lips that I nibbled at from beneath our blanket nest.

Snow continued its steady fall, whiting out the landscape beyond Witnot Castle through the lancet windows. I’d insisted on pulling on a flannel dress and tights, and Covin donned his rumpled slacks before wrapping us both in the blanket burrito where we currently resided on the long day bed recliner at one end of my bedroom. We hadn’t moved from the space in hours, though I got the impression he resented the articles of clothing between us and would have happily kept the skin on skin aspect of our earlier activities.

And something that had been bugging me since yesterday finally made a coherent appearance in my mind and stayed still long enough for me to ask a fully fledged question now my ovaries had settled down.

“You filled the castle with a veritable forest yesterday,” I murmured, stealing the rest of the pretzel before I ruined the moment without taking the required deep breath. “What are you, some sort of secret billionaire?”

“Yep.”

I choked on my pretzel. “You’re supposed to pretend to think about it.” He said nothing and I swiveled in his arms, lying on my stomach to face him, needing to see his eyes. Eyes I swore I could dream about for the next decade at least. “Are you being serious?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to say anything else?”

He popped another pretzel in his mouth, made a show of chewing it and shook his head. “Nope.”

I didn’t point out that counted as something different just to be contrary. “Tell me something.”

“What, love?”

“About you.”

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