Page 23 of Snowed in with a Grinch

“Yes! Yes, Sawyer, please!”

I'm writhing on the couch, my orgasm building, teetering on the edge.So close.

“I need you to come all over my face, angel.”

I gasp as Sawyer's filthy words send a shiver straight to my core. “Yes, Sawyer. I'm yours. Take me, please.”

His growl of approval sends a thrill through me as he redoubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers masterfully stroking and teasing my every sensitive spot. His free hand slides between us, palm flat against my stomach.

“That's it, angel,” he rasps against my core, “give it all to me.”

I arch my back. “Oh, god!”

My body convulses as my orgasm rips through me, shattering every last bit of control I have left. Sawyer seems to take my release as an invitation to increase his efforts, and before long, I’m a howling, sweaty mess, with nothing but liquid for bones.

Sawyer's touch gentles as he guides me through the aftershocks, his fingers still moving inside me but with less intensity. His tongue laps softly at my over-sensitive flesh, soothing rather than stoking the flames. I tremble, gasping as he slowly kisses his way back up my body. When he reaches my lips, I taste myself on his tongue and moan softly.

“I never want you to stop touching me like that,” I whisper against his mouth, running my fingers through his hair.

When he pulls back, the heat in his eyes makes my breath catch. “Promise?”

A slow smile takes over my face as I nod. “Promise.”

His expression turns serious for a moment, though his hands never leave my skin. “I love you too, you know. Even if this is crazy. Even if we're moving too fast. Even if?—”

I silence him with a kiss, pouring everything I feel into it. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.

“No more 'even ifs,'“ I whisper against his mouth. “Just us. Just this.”

The look he gives me steals my breath before his mouth claims mine again, and suddenly words don't matter anymore as he shucks his pants and slides into me…

Later, much later, we lie tangled together on the pull-out couch, watching snow fall outside. His hands trace lazy patterns on my bare skin, and I've never felt more at peace.

“Sawyer?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

He pulls me closer, his lips brushing my shoulder. “Thank you for making me want to.”

“Merry Christmas, my grumpy mountain man.”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

And it is. The merriest Christmas ever. The first of many we'll share on this mountain, in this cabin that now feels like home. And I plan to fill every single one with enough magic, love, and yes, decorations, to make up for all the ones he missed.

Because sometimes the best gifts come wrapped in mountain snow and second chances. Like a rare orchid finally finding the perfect conditions to bloom, our love opened slowly, beautifully, right when we needed it most. And like Sawyer's precious plants,I intend to nurture it, cherish it, and watch it grow stronger with each passing season.

After all, isn't that what Christmas miracles are all about?

EPILOGUE 1 - SAWYER

Twelve Months Later

“Absolutely not.” I cross my arms and try to maintain my stern expression, but it's getting harder and harder to deny Noelle anything these days. Especially when she's looking at me with those big brown eyes, practically bouncing with excitement.

“But Sawyer, they'remusicalfairy lights! They play 'Silver Bells' when you walk past them!”

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