Chapter 7
Morning comes with the sound of snowplows in the distance.
I wake slowly, awareness returning in pieces. Justin's arm around my waist. His breath warm against my neck. The pleasant soreness in my body that reminds me of everything we did last night.
The plows mean the roads are being cleared.
Reality is coming back.
I shift slightly, and his arm tightens around me.
"Stay," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Good." He presses a kiss to my shoulder. "What time is it?"
I check my phone. "Almost eight. The plows are out."
"I heard." He's quiet for a moment. "We probably have until this afternoon before the roads are passable."
"Then we should make it count."
He rolls me onto my back, hovering over me, eyes still heavy with sleep but warm. "What did you have in mind?"
"Feed me breakfast. You're very good at that."
His mouth curves. "Anything else?"
"Maybe let me return the favor from last night."
Heat flashes in his eyes. "That can be arranged."
Breakfast is leisurely, I devour the pancakes and bacon he cooks for me. We eat at the small kitchen table, knees touching, stealing bites from each other's plates.
"We need to talk about what happens next," Justin says, setting down his coffee.
My stomach tightens. "Okay."
"When we get back, people will notice the shift between us. We'll need to be careful and not because I'm ashamed, but because I won't have anyone thinking you got your job through anything other than merit."
"I know."
"We'll need to talk to HR. Disclose the relationship properly."
"Very romantic," I tease, but my heart is hammering.
"I'm serious, Holly." He reaches across the table, takes my hand. "I want to do this right. No hiding, no sneaking around. You deserve better than being someone's secret."
"What if they make it difficult? HR?"
"Then I'll handle it. That's my job, dealing with difficult things so you don't have to."
"Very Daddy of you."
His grip tightens slightly. "Yes. It is."
The admission hangs between us, honest and raw.
"I like it," I say softly. "When you take charge. When you handle things."
"I know you do." He lifts my hand, presses a kiss to my knuckles. "That's why we work."
My phone buzzes. I glance at it. It’s from Monica about our local chapter of the Naughty Girl’s Book Club.
Monica: We're meeting Thursday for book club if you're back by then.
Me: I'll be there. Might have some updates of my own.
Monica: Tell me EVERYTHING
Me: Thursday. I promise.
Monica: Brett says hi and also says to trust your instincts. Whatever that means.
Me: Tell him thank you. My instincts are doing pretty well so far.
I set the phone down and find Justin watching me. “Not the girls this time. The secretary of our local chapter.”
"Local chapter?" he asks.
"Yeah. Monica, she's the one who fell for her Daddy Dom last year. They run the orchard together now."
"And she's happy?"
"Deliriously." I tilt my head. "Why?"
"Because I want to know how this works. Long term. Not just in theory. My track record with Daddy Dom relationships isn’t the greatest. As I told you, my previous girlfriend decided these relationships were more fun in books and fantasies than in real life."
"I’m not your ex. It works if both people want it to work." I stand, move around the table to his side. "Do you want it to work?"
He pulls me into his lap, settling me across his thighs. "More than I've wanted anything in years."
"I want it to work too. Then it'll work."
He kisses me, slow and thorough, hands spanning my waist. When he pulls back, his expression is serious.
"I have something for you," he says.
"Oh?"
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a small velvet box.
My breath catches. "Justin—"
"It's not what you think." He opens it, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a small pendant, a snowflake with a tiny diamond in the center.
"I had this made for the park's fiftieth anniversary.
It was meant to be a promotional item for a social media drawing, but.
.." He lifts it from the box. "I want you to have it. "
"Why?"
"Because you made me remember why this place matters. Because you turned a storm into something magical." He fastens it around my neck, his fingers gentle against my skin. "And because I want you to have something that reminds you of this weekend. Of us."
I touch the pendant, tears pricking my eyes. "It's beautiful."
"So are you."
I kiss him again, deeper this time, trying to pour everything I'm feeling into it. When we break apart, we're both breathing hard.
"We still have a few hours," I say. "What should we do?"
His eyes darken. "I have some ideas."
And that idea was to spend the morning in bed together. Not frantically, not rushed—just exploring each other with the kind of attention that comes from knowing time is limited. He maps my body with his hands and mouth again, memorizing every spot that makes me gasp, every touch that makes me melt.
When I finally get my hands on him, learning the planes of his chest, the muscles in his back, the way he groans when I wrap my hand around his hard cock, it feels like power and gift all at once.
"You're thinking too much again," he says, catching my wrist and holding it tightly above my head.
"How do you always know?"
"Your face gives you away." He guides my hand back to him, showing me the rhythm he likes. "Stop thinking. Just feel."
I do, watching his face as I touch him, learning what makes his breath catch, what makes his jaw clench tightly and his eyes roll back in his head.
The control he always maintains starts to crack, and I love watching it happen.
I love watching him lose his mind. I lower my mouth to his shaft and suck hard while my hands move, squeezing and massaging his balls.
I watch with wide eyes when he comes, his orgasm spilling deep into the back of my mouth and throat.
I swallow each drop, eager to please him.
When he stops shaking, he moves quickly, flipping me onto my back with easy strength, his eyes are nearly black with want.
"My turn," he says, voice rough.
He takes his time, bringing me to the edge over and over until I'm begging. Only then does he finally give me what I need, he finally presses his cock into me, filling me completely, the stretch and fullness stealing my breath. We fit very well together. He’s stretching me but not painfully. He’s just the right size.
"Okay?" he asks, holding himself still above me.
"More than okay."
He starts to move, slow and deliberate, watching my face. "Tell me how it feels."
"Good—so good—"
"More specific."
I can barely think past the pleasure building in my core. "Full. Safe. Yours."
"Yes." He thrusts deeper. "Mine."
“I need more. Please, Daddy.”
He moves faster and harder. Each thrust pushing me hard into the mattress. He reaches between our bodies and rubs my clit. “Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy. You belong to me and I want you to come.”
The possessiveness in his voice sends me over the edge, pleasure crashing through me in waves. He follows moments later, my name on his lips, and the intimacy of it? The vulnerability in his face as he comes apart staring into my eyes, makes my chest ache.
After, we lie tangled together, skin cooling in the warm room.
"That was..." I can't find the words.
"Yes." He presses a kiss to my forehead. "It was."
"Is it always like that?"
"No." He pulls back to look at me. "It's only like that when you trust someone completely. When you let them see all of you. When you are vulnerable."
"I trust you."
"I know." He traces the line of my jaw. "And I'll spend every day earning that trust."
By early afternoon, we've showered together, which leads to another orgasm, and dressed in fresh clothes. The lodge feels different now, less like an emergency shelter from a raging storm and more like a cocoon we have to leave painfully.
"We should check on the reindeer one more time," I say, pulling on my coat. "Make sure they have enough food and water before we go."
"Always taking care of others," he observes.
"That's my job."
"Not anymore." He tugs my hat down over my ears. "From now on, that’s my job."
The reindeer barn is warm, smelling of hay and barn animals.
I move from stall to stall, checking water buckets and feed bins, murmuring greetings to each reindeer by name.
When I heard about this job, the animals were what attracted me to it first. It’s not my job to take care of them normally, but whenever an extra shift pops up, I jump on it.
During my breaks, I’m often at the barn. The animals have become my friends.
Justin watches me pet Cupid from the doorway, leaning against the frame.
"You really do love this place," he says.
"Of course. It's magic." I finish with the last stall, move to where he's standing. "You built something special here. Something that matters."
"We built it. My grandfather started it, I expanded it, but people like you—" He touches my cheek. "—you make it come alive. Believing in the magic of Christmas, letting yourself suspend disbelief and enjoying it. You make it all worth it."
"That's one of the nicest things you've ever said to me."
"I plan to say nicer things regularly."
I grin. "You already warned me about that."
We walk back through the park slowly, taking in the decorations, walking by the chapel and the ornament shop.
Everything looks different today, knowing tomorrow it will be open to the public again.
Knowing it’s not just ours anymore makes it feel less magical, more mechanical.
But somehow that makes the little time we have left here alone more precious.
"I'll miss this," I admit. "Just the two of us. No crowds, no schedule, no interruptions."
"We'll make time," Justin promises. "Private mornings before the park opens. Late nights after it closes. When it’s off season and we are closed during the week. We'll find ways to be just us."