Page 18 of Keeping Winter

“Should I let you come?” I tease, intentionally rubbing against her clit in a way I know will drive her crazy.

“Yes! Oh, God, please.”

I feel her pussy tightening around me, and I slow. “Not yet, dirty little thing. You come when I tell you to.”

Winter shudders beneath me, and the intensity of her response almost makes me lose my load.

“Ffuuuck,” I hiss. Hooking her knees over my shoulders, I shift my position to have better leverage, and I start to press inside her more quickly.

Winter’s cries of passion intensify, and I can tell she’s dangerously close to coming. The anticipation of it drives me crazy.

“Come for me, Winter,” I demand, grinding against her clit to ensure she will obey.

The sob of pleasure that bursts through her lips sends me over the edge, and as her pussy clamps down around me, I release my load, my cock throbbing almost painfully with the need to fill her up.

“Mypussy,” I demand. Then I lean forward to capture her lips, sucking the tender skin between my teeth to gently bite down.

Winter convulses beneath me with the intensity of her orgasm. And her pussy grips me like a vise, holding my cock inside her as she milks me for every drop. Shuddering gasps escape Winter’s lips, and she trembles beneath me. For an instant, my heart stops as I wonder if I pushed it too far.

“Are you okay, love?” I ask, easing her legs down onto the bed.

Winter gasps a breathy laugh. “Holy fuck, that was amazing.”

Relief washes through me, and I chuckle darkly. “It wasn’t too much?” I press.

Winter’s eyes open, and her emerald gaze assesses me. “You won’t break me, Gabriel,” she promises. Then gripping the headboard as best she can, she arches up off the bed to kiss me.

Scooping one arm beneath her to offer support, I kiss her back, reinforcing my affection for her as I reach up to untangle her hands. After she’s free, I gently ease out of her, and she pulls the T-shirt on as I get dressed again.

Then I pull her into my arms as we spoon.

“Was that better?” I murmur close to her ear, still trying to gauge what level of intensity Winter wants.

She hums contentedly. “That’s a very good start,” she whispers as she rapidly falls asleep.

Sighing, I pull her closer to me. I don’t know that I can bring myself to do much more than that. Though I have to admit it was fun to bring back some of the possessive demands I used to make. Even if we’re engaged, I still like to hear Winter tell me that she belongs to me.

I press a kiss to the delicate skin behind her ear and close my eyes, hoping that despite all the thoughts and emotions tumbling through me, I might be able to fall asleep.

8

Winter

The first fewweeks of work arehard. I hadn’t realized that staying on my feet for eight hours at a time might wear my body down the way it does. And beyond that, Honey Bee’s is busy, with constant foot traffic since we’re right on the main street of Whitfield, and we get a decent number of tourists who like to stop in and shop on their way down the coast.

My learning curve makes me feel like my brain just might explode. I wonder if there was ever a time in school when I cared enough to remember anything that I stressed the way I did during my first few days. But I really want this job. And I quickly come to find that I like Mallory. She’s direct and confident and full of never-ending energy. I can see why she’s got the will and determination to own her own shop at a young age. I admire her tenacity.

But working at a clothing boutique is more than greeting customers and hanging clothes up that they decided not to buy. I’d never thought about it before. The ins and outs of apparel stores. It entails stocking, shelving, and managing inventory. Of course, the customer service aspect, but also managing a drawer, ringing customers up, knowing how the technology works enough to do a return if need be.

Thankfully, I seem to have a knack for the customer side of things, offering help that people seem to like for what outfits work and which might suit different personalities. As for the rest of it, all I can be thankful for is Mallory’s patience with me. It’s just me and one other girl who works part-time after high school and on weekends that work for Mallory. Kimmi is the other girl, and I only ever see her in passing as I end my shift, and she starts hers.

My schedule is nice, as I get all the weekday shifts and can be home nights and weekends with Gabe. Besides the intellectual challenge and the social avenue, the nicest thing about my job is watching the way I can actually contribute to our bank account. Seeing my first paycheck, and depositing it, was the best feeling.

I’m even more confident about the prospect of buying a car for myself. Nothing fancy, but something that will make it so I can drive myself into town. Gabe’s been wonderful about dropping me off at work every morning and picking me up at night. But I have to wait around for about an hour at each end of my day, and with my own car, Gabe wouldn’t have to worry about me standing around waiting for him. So today after work, we’re supposed to go used-car shopping.

“Would you like your receipt with you or in the bag?” I offer the lady I just rang up.

“In the bag is fine,” she says with a smile. “And thanks for your advice on the dress. I can’t wait to wear it with that belt!”

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