Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
ETHAN
Iwish I could say that we spend the rest of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day doing highly creative things, but it would be a lie.
I don’t even know how much time we spent on the couch together after we got the tree up and shining.
He told me he loves me.
I didn’t know what his reaction would be to finding out about the favor I’d asked of Devon to look out for him, but I never thought it would be this.
I never thought my sweet Ollie would melt in my arms and whisper such a confession to me.
I lost all sense of time and reality after that.
We could as well have been snowed in together for the second time and I wouldn’t have noticed because all I cared about was watching his eyes light up every time I told him I was crazy about him, or hear his giggles and startled laughs when I swooped in to kiss his neck or touch lightly his ribs knowing he’s ticklish.
All that mattered to me was to drink in his reactions in everything we did together; when we baked cookies and the first batch went awfully wrong and he laughed so hard he cried at the mess we’d made.
Or when we were in the middle of dinner and a jazz remake of an old Christmas song came on and his eyes went achingly soft saying he really liked that.
It was impossible not to take his hand and pull him up, slow-dancing with him in the middle of the cabin, our only source of light the Christmas tree and the burning fire.
All I could see, and feel, and scent was him.
A few years ago, when I bought this cabin and eventually moved in here for good, I thought this was exactly what I wanted—to leave behind my former life of adrenaline and danger and come here where I could listen to nothing but the whoosh of the trees and the howl of the wind and revel in the quiet of this place.
Now, I can’t imagine the quiet of this cabin without Ollie’s soft humming whenever he’s doing something trivial. Or his light steps on the wooden floorboards when he’s approaching, making my pulse speed up.
Or his presence around me, knowing that he’s here, that he’s happy.
That I can love him the way he was always supposed to be loved.
It’s already night and we’ve been together for two whole days, and I have absolutely no idea where the fuck all that time went.
He’s still naked, his head lying on my stomach, facing my way, his fingers playing with the hair on my chest. His night-flower scent is everywhere, and mixed with his sweat and cum it’s damn mouthwatering.
“Did you… tie mistletoe on the headboard?” he asks in a tone that’s both surprised and amused.
“Did you just notice it?” I grin, running my hand through his curls, loving when his eyes flutter briefly shut.
“Well, I did have my mind elsewhere.”
Fuck, that shy but mischievous smile will be the death of me.
“Oh yeah? And where was that?” I rasp out, fisting his hair lightly, tugging it with just the right amount of pressure.
And the way he arches towards me so beautifully, a small moan spilling from his lips, has me devouring the sight.
“To all the things you were doing to me,” he whispers roughly, his green eyes still swimming with lingering heat.
I can feel how my spent body tries to rile up as image after image is burned into my mind; how I sat Ollie on my lap and kissed and touched every inch of skin, paying extra attention to all the spots that make him weak with need, how I pinned his arms so he couldn’t use them and sucked his pretty, pink nipples until they were raw and he was a whimpering mess, how I played with his weeping cock and slutty hole until he was mindless with want, squirming and writhing, begging me to stuff him full and give him relief.
“Did you like them?” My voice drops several octaves and I can’t help letting my hand slither down until I reach his sensitive nipple, giving it a soft pinch.
His eyes follow the movement and he sighs breathily, his thighs clenching and rubbing together when he feels the faint sting.
“I loved them,” he mutters, piercing me with his gaze, his face turning to mouth a kiss on my stomach. His eyes flick up, to the mistletoe above my head, his lips twitching. “Which is probably exactly why I missed that. When did you even do that?”
“When you weren’t looking. And there’s plenty more of that in the whole cabin.”
His eyes are so warm as he looks at me. “But why?”
“Any excuse to kiss you, little fawn.”
Ollie buries his smile in my skin but he does a very bad job at it.
“You don’t need excuses to kiss me, Ethan.
But you’re right,” he says suddenly, lifting himself up on his knees and scootching closer, until he’s the one leaning over me.
“Why let any opportunity to kiss you go to waste?” he breathes on my lips, before his mouth presses against mine and I get lost in him again for a few precious seconds that feel like eons.
He breaks the kiss but stays close, licking our kiss off his lips with a carefree, content smile that makes my heart ache.
With every little thing he does, I can tell how much he savors every kiss, every hint of affection, every sign of care, of tenderness. Of love.
Almost as if he can’t believe it’s happening to him.
And that’s exactly why it guts me, because he deserves the fucking world and I want him to have it. But I want to be the one to give it to him, to woo him and worship him, to make him happy, to cherish him and show him how wanted and loved he is.
And if that makes me selfish or possessive, then so fucking be it.
His eyes suddenly widen, but before I can even ask him what the matter is, he just plants another kiss on me and climbs over me and off the bed, disappearing from the room with a “Wait here!”
He’s gone before I can even sit up on the bed.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Faint ruffling sounds reach me from the living room.
“Yes, it’s all good. Stay there! I’ll be right back.”
Alright then. I lean back on the headboard, letting my eyes close for just a second while I relax in our combined scents.
The sound of bare footsteps approaching has me searching for the source, my gaze falling on a gloriously naked and pink Ollie strutting towards my side of the bed.
His hair is all over the place but I hardly notice it because his smile is just radiant, sucking all the oxygen from the room.
I don’t even notice the fact that his hands are behind his back.
“I can’t believe I almost forgot about this,” he says in a voice full of excitement that makes me smile with him.
“Forgot about what?”
“This,” he says and hands me a wrapped-up package.
My eyebrows shoot up, realization setting in.
“This is for me?” I croak out, my throat suddenly tight.
A present. He got me a present.
He nods fast, anticipation radiating off him, even as he fidgets with his hands nervously.
I swallow hard, my heart too big for my chest as I take in this wonderful man who’s apparently anxious about my reaction to his present. As if I don’t already love it just because it came from him.
A squeak of surprise leaves his lips when I wrap an arm around his waist and pull him on the mattress, until he’s straddling my thighs with his package between us.
His cheeks are flushed when our eyes meet.
“Much better now,” I grin as I start ripping the side of the packaging paper and he grins back.
I look down at my hands and all I see is blue. Blue soft material fills my palms as a large knitted scarf in different shades of dark blue with a matching beanie slip out of Ollie’s makeshift package, and I realize I know exactly what blue this is.
What Ollie was making for me a few weeks back but didn’t want to show me until it was time. Until it was ready for me.
“You made this for me?” I ask him, my fingers still running through the soft and perfect threading.
His jewel-green eyes are sparkling in the warm light emanating from the lamp on the nightstand next to us.
“I thought it could keep you warm up here in the mountains.”
I nod at his words way too calmly for the emotions ravaging me inside.
“I love it, Ollie,” I manage to say, words suddenly failing me at the sweet as fuck gesture. “Thank you for making this for me.”
His expression is so open I can see exactly how much my reaction means to him.
“You’re welcome,” he whispers shyly, his expression relieved and happy in equal measures.
“Want me to put them on?” I ask him cheekily, already wrapping the long scarf around my neck.
“Naked with nothing but a scarf and beanie on?” he grins. “Are you secretly posing for a calendar photo-shoot?”
“Yes, you got me. I’ll be the December guy for Forest Rangers 2025. I bet everyone will go nuts.” Scarf secured, the beanie is next. “How do I look?” I ask, stretching on the bed.
His grin slightly falters as his eyes fill with heat, taking in all of me, from head to heavy cock lying relaxed on my groin.
“You look…” he pauses, licking his lips. “You look really good, Ethan. Just – just please don’t pose for a calendar.”
Wait. Is that a… hint of jealousy in his voice?
Sitting up, I carefully take them off and place them on the bedside table, before my hands grip his hips.
“Why not, sweetheart?”
His eyes widen, dropping to where I’m rubbing circles on his hips, and then rising once more to lock with mine.
“I-I…”
“Don’t you think I’d look good in one?” I sit up fully, shifting him so his soft dick is nestled against mine and he’s close enough that I can kiss his neck.
“Yes,” he breathes out, arching his neck, making room for me.
“Then why don’t you want me in one, baby?”
“I don’t want others to see you like this,” he admits hoarsely as my mouth trails wet kisses all over his pale throat.
“And why is that? Tell me,” I demand with a roll of my hips against his that has our cocks rubbing together.
“Because you’re mine, Ethan,” he finally says and pure satisfaction runs through my veins.
“Yes, baby, that’s right. No one will see me like this because I’m yours and only yours.”
He whimpers softly, melting under my touch, the sight riveting.
“You like the sound of that, don’t you?” I mutter against his skin.
“I do. So much.” His voice cracks at the end and something squeezes inside me.
I hold his face gently and he turns to look at me, love and need battling for dominance in his eyes.
A gasp leaves his lips when I flip us until he’s on his back with me leaning over him, bracing his thigh on my hip, and seeing nothing but him.
“Then I’ll show it to you and make sure you never forget it, Oliver,” I promise him, pecking his sweet lips.
“Even after you take me back to my apartment tomorrow?” he asks in a soft voice but the beginnings of a smile are already curling the corners of his mouth.
I rub my thumb against that faint smile, needing to imprint it into my skin.
“Ollie, if it were up to me, I would never return you to your apartment but keep you here where I can make sure you’re always smiling like this.
But I will take you back because you have built a life for yourself and it’s yours, and I’m so proud of the man you have become and of how strong you’ve been.
” A breath stutters out of him as his beautiful eyes grow shiny and I lean even closer until it feels like our chests our moving in sync against each other’s.
“And if you want us to do the medium-distance thing we’ll do it.
We will see each other whenever we can and I’ll take you on however many dates you want.
But know that there will come one day when it will be the last day you sleep in that apartment.
When I’ll come for you and you’ll have your things packed and I’ll move you in here.
Because the thought of sleeping in this bed and living in this cabin without you already feels unbearable.
And that day will be the first day of the rest of our lives. ”
He looks at a loss for words, watching me with wide, hopeful eyes as if I’ve promised him the world and he’s afraid it will all be gone if he so much as makes the smallest of noises.
But I mean every word I’ve said to him.
“Deal?” I whisper against his trembling lips, my own hope bleeding into that one word.
He nods, never tearing his gaze away, his arms coming up to wrap around my neck to pull me in even closer.
“Deal,” he sighs and I swallow that content sigh, breathing it into my lungs as I kiss my mate to sleep, knowing that there’s nothing I’ll ever want more.
Nothing but my mate happy, safe, and loved in my arms.