Chapter Eight
Serena
Christmas is officially my favorite time of the year.
This one feels more special than any before it. Even when we had no lights on a sad Snoopy tree, it was a joyful time. We made presents, we cooked something special, we made the most of what little we had. This Christmas I have half a dozen trees strung up with whatever I can dream up, in a rainbow of colors, with dozens of presents tucked beneath the huge tree by the fireplace.
Each of the rooms in the cabin glows with a different tree. Slater has spent days putting together strings of lights in whatever colors I ask. We make ornaments out of log pieces, pinecones, popcorn, and dried fruit. It has been the sweetest, homiest Christmas of my entire life.
Tomorrow we will go to Mack and Mollie Felle’s place to celebrate with all the guys up on the mountain. Lilli and Landon will be there, Watt and Willa, plus all the other lumberjacks and their ladies. I am looking forward to it. Slater, on the other hand, seems less than enthused.
“Two hours. Three tops,” he growls as he pulls me against his chest, pouting the cutest, grumpiest pout.
“Honey, we’re going to be with your friends. Our friends. It is Christmas, this holiday has no time limits.”
“If it means sharing my old lady with a bunch of jagoffs, yes, sweetheart, it does. You best get used to it. I am a needy man.”
“I accept this,” I tell him with a laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. Hmm, he tastes of the chocolate cocoa we had earlier. Delicious . “If you accept that there will be other folks in our lives for short periods of time.”
“Leave here with your panties full of my cum, I will accept it.”
“Slater Roth! We cannot be filthy on Christmas.”
“My cock and your greedy cunt say otherwise, sweetheart,” he hisses, and I gasp as the crown of said cock presses against my very wet, very greedy cunt. “Sit on daddy, little girl. I might let you talk me into a New Year’s party too if I’m being choked by my good little slut,” he hums these filthy, fiery words against my throat. Rocking my hips, I whimper as I rub needily against him, wanting to let him have his way but not yet ready to.
Sitting there trembling with need, tasting him, hearing his hot grunts, feeling his thickness press against me, I start to panic. What am I doing? What have we been doing hiding away up on this mountain the past week? We’ve been so naughty with each other, sharing such intimate, intense moments. Slater claims he wants to marry me, to give me babies, to keep me up on this mountain with him forever.
Can this chaotic, clandestine thing last beyond Christmas?
Taking care of my four brothers back in True Ridge, of mother, of all the friends I’ve made here in Driftwood Peaks, is what I do. Selling people not just a house but their home, it is a way to take care of others. Just the way making those ornaments, making the rounds with the carolers up here on the mountain was a way to take care of all the growly men on this mountain. Giving back in some way was all I wanted to do.
Now I am tangled up with this man, with this obsessive, possessive, needy and naughty lumberjack. This growly, grinch of a man. A man who first kicked me off his doorstep but now claims he never wants me to leave. What am I doing with this man? How I have let this twist and turn so out of control while the storm has kept us stranded up here.
“Am I…am I not free to go, Slater? I teased about how obsessive you get about me…does that mean I am…not free from you?”
Slater blinks up at me, his dark eyes taking a few moments to focus. His silky hair is a mess, falling over his forehead, so he shakes it out of his eyes to stare up at me. There is a flash of something in his eyes. The eyes that lured me in that very first night. That brought me back to him. Is it…is it guilt? Do I have it right? He will not…let me leave?
“No, no you will never be free of me, sweetheart. Do I want you tucked away in this cabin for me to eat you, to fuck you, to own you whenever I want, hell, yes I do. That does not equal you being my prisoner. I said I will do anything you ask of me….so be careful what you ask.”
Pushing off his lap, I untangle myself as I back up from him. I need some distance. Some space between his big, hard body that I have grown addicted to. I crave his scent, his warmth, his skin on mine. It is too soon for this to feel the way it does. For us to make the promises we’ve made.
Just thinking about leaving the cabin sends me spiraling. I have a cute bungalow down in Driftwood. I just hung new curtains my mother sewed for me with cute yellow checkers and strawberries. I love bright colors, cute things that would never make sense in this dark cabin.
“Slater…. what…I mean, what does that mean?” I stammer.
Standing, he towers over me, stalking towards me slowly. My heart triples with each step. My thighs quake. God, he is beautiful. Sexy in a dark, dangerous way that excites me as much as it terrifies me. He turns me on until I ache. Until having him is all that stops my pain, my need.
How do we trust a need that walks the line of obsession?
“It means do not ask me something I cannot give you. Do not ask me to let you go. I will not let you be free of me. I will never be free of you, either. Which I am glad for. You knocking on my door changed my entire world, Serena. You set it spinning again. Do not ask me to go back. To give it up, give this up, to ever give you up. I won’t. I will not .”
Something in the shake of his voice ratchets my panic up. I continue to back up. To put space between us. Something he refuses me. Each step I take back, he takes two forwards. I go until my back hits the door. It is cold, the storm that has caged us in for days still howling beyond its threshold.
“Serena…come back to me, little girl. Do not do it,” he warms.
“Slater, stop. It…I am…I am scared. I cannot, I mean…I have my place down there, my offices, my clients. If I just never went back. If you refuse to…” I break off on a shout as he eats up the space between us, slamming my back against the door. It does not hurt. I welcome the press of his big body against mine. It grounds me as he cages me in.
“I will refuse you nothing, little girl. Not ever. Daddy will give you everything you could ever need. You believe that don’t you? You know I would give the entire world to you, one piece at a time, one Christmas tree, one ornament, one little baby in that belly. Whatever you ask of me.”
“Except freedom…” I trail off as my hand turns the knob of the door. It sounds so loud as it breaks free of the latch.
“Yes. Except freedom from me. If you go, know I will be there behind you every single fucking step you take,” he warns me, letting me wiggle free of him just enough to scare us both.
Turning faster than I think either of us expects me to, I bolt. I hesitate just a moment once the frigid air hits my skin. I am in a pair of his sweats and his big, soft Felle Landing hoodie. Sliding down the stairs, my bare feet sinking into the deep snow, I start to run. I never look back once. Why would I need to— Slater will be there, following my skittish steps.
What he said about being right behind me is what sent me running. I am almost vibrating from it. I hear him behind me, huffing as his huge body stomps through the snow. I get down the drive, through heavy snow drifts, but I know I will never lose him. The snow is whipping against my skin, my feet will ache later, still I never stop or even slow. I give it my all.
Just as I see a glimpse of the road, I know I am out of time. Slater’s huge body slams into me from behind. He rolls so he hits the ground instead of plowing me into the snow drifts. We roll a few times, his powerful arms locking me against his chest to protect me. I almost laugh when he rolls once more, pinning me to the ground beneath him.
“That is going to get you punished, little girl,” he hisses as he looms over me. I am shaking beneath him, my clothes soaked through to my skin. He tears at them, ripping them off me. Once I am bare in the snow, he kneels between my thighs, gripping the back of them to spin me one more.
“No! No, I don’t want it,” I shout, squirming beneath him.
“Oh, lies now? Fine, earn yourself a few more,” he growls behind me as he yanks me over his thigh.
Shuddering as his bare skin confirms his clothes have been torn off too, I do smile. I want to laugh, I bubble with elation, excitement, with such a powerful arousal I am sure my thighs are slick with my own cream.
“No. No, daddy,” I wail before his hand cracks my backside hard.
“Don’t try to talk sweet to daddy now, little girl. Too late. I’m pinking this sweet ass before I’m going to shove my cock ten inches deep in it. You were told not to run. I explained the fucking price,” his booming shout echoes through the hills, yet I am still smiling.
Slater smacks me harder, harder, his palm cracking against my ass once, twice, three times. My pussy vibrates with teach strike. I wriggle on his lap, seeking the press of his jutting cock, wanting to be filled by it. My clit is on fire, even as I find no cock, just icy snowdrift. Rubbing against it, I hiss in pleasure as the ice coldness of it eases the pain.
“Quit working that greedy pussy,” he warns, smacking his palm right against my aching cunt. “This cunt belongs to me. The sweet cream dripping down those thighs is fucking mine. No making that pussy cum unless it’s for my viewing pleasure. Daddy warned you, didn’t he?”
Still wiggling my hips in madness, I refuse to answer. He smacks my ass once, twice, then he spreads my cheeks open and spits between them. I jolt at the hot drip of his spit down my ass. I scream out as he pushes two fingers into my puckered hole, scissoring fast, hard.
“Be daddy’s good slut and answer. You were told not to touch this little girl hole,” he hisses, yanking my head round with a fist in my hair, pulling me up so his next words pant against my quivering mouth. “Get on your knees, open that mouth so daddy can choke his little slut.”
“Yes, daddy , yes. You told me not to play with it. It aches. Will you play with it, daddy? Please, it needs to be touched.”
“Down. On. Those fucking knees!” he roars, pushing me off his lap, my knees skidding across a snowdrift. Looming over me, he grips my hair in his fist, pulling me up on my knees.
I shudder with lust as I soak my thighs. I knew how this would end. Just how we would play if I tried to escape. I never wanted to be free of him, but I want to know I can be free with him. I know I can. I felt it the moment he closed that door behind me, closing me in his cabin.
Running was never an attempt to escape him. I believed his vow that he would just be a step behind me if I tried. That is what I want. What I want to know, to feel. I want him at my back, staking his claim on me.
“So pretty little snow angel,” Slater hums as he rubs the crown of his cock over my swollen lips. “Open big for daddy. That’s my good girl. Keep those pretty eyes on mine, show me what a slut you become with my cock choking you. Such a pretty little girl,” he hums as he pushes forward, indeed choking me on his thick, wide shaft.
I gag but I do not dare stop. Cupping the back of my head, he starts to rock, fucking my throat with long, hard strokes. I am shuddering in the snow as he fills my mouth again and again. My nipples ache as the wind swirls around us, but I do not stop. I suck hard, hollowing my cheeks out, my hands clawing at his powerful thighs.
“Good girl, that’s it. Give daddy that slutty throat,” he grunts.
Staring up at him from beneath snow dusted lashes, I nod. I want to be his good girl, his little slut , a sweet snow angel, his absolute everything. I thought it could not be what it is. That it could not be filthy and feral at the same time it is tender and transcendent. How could this mountain man be just what I needed most, if I never thought of my own needs? How could I have found him when I had no idea I was looking?
“Such a sweet little slut for daddy. Out here in the wild begging me to cum down that little girl throat. Don’t you need it, baby? Show me. Spread out in the snow with that fuck doll body. Open those soaked thighs so daddy can stuff his thick cock in his favorite fuck hole. That’s it, sweetheart. Get on that back, where you belong.”
Stretching out for him, I am on fire despite the bed of snow. I spread my thighs, reaching down to rub at my pussy. Smacking at my hand, he brings my sticky fingers to his mouth, sucking them inside. Fisting his thick cock, he smacks my swollen clit with the crown a few times before he sinks balls deep without warning.
“Oh, daddy! It’s too big,” I pout, squirming beneath him. “Rub my little girl pussy to get it soft for you daddy. Please, rub it soft.”
“Good girl taking all of daddy. Gotta get his cock deep on the first stroke, so we can get all this cum where it belongs. Where is that, sweet girl? Where does every single drop of daddy’s cream go?”
“In his little girl’s greedy cunt,” I pant as he pounds into me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand. His other hand grips my throat, pressing softly, then releasing, pressing harder, releasing. It makes my vision blur, has a prism of colors dancing behind the pleasure.
“That’s a good little slut. You will take every drop until I put my baby in your belly. While you’re pregnant daddy will put it wherever he wants, yeah? All over those perfect tits,” he grunts as he smacks one, then the other, palming the aching nipples. “Deep in that tight ass. On that beautiful face. Down that silky, slutty throat of yours. Daddy will give you plenty. You won’t ever run out of it. You keep daddy hard, his sac heavy with cum. I will always have plenty for my good little fuck doll.”
“Oh! Oh, daddy,” I cry, tears slipping down my cheeks because I am so hot from his words, from the promises he has given me for days, for the way those words, his weight pinning me down as he takes me, his cock filling me, has truly set me free. “Let me cum on your big cock, daddy!”
“Ahh, fuck, yeah, that’s it, that’s daddy’s good little slut. Choke this big cock with that greedy cunt. Take every single drop, little girl. That’s it, yeah, that’s it. So fucking pretty taking me so deep. Such a greedy little thing. Fuck, I love it, I love it. Fucking love you!”
I whimper the words back as he pounds me into the snow. He comes hard, his huge body rocking mine against the snowdrift. We’re covered in snow, our flesh hot beneath the thick flakes. Pinning me beneath him, he softens as he always does, kissing my mouth, my brow, whispering again and again how much he needs me, wants me, how he, yes, loves me.
Dirty, depraved, sometimes a little desperate, it is the best damn Christmas gift I could ever be given.