Thirty-One
Saint
Christmas morning comes sooner than it feels possible. We wake up early before the sun rises, still wearing the themed pajamas Evaline picked out. She’s lucky we all love her. I doubt we would wear these getups otherwise.
Last night, I snuck into Winter’s room long after her brothers had gone to bed, which meant I stayed up late to spend the night with her, but I have no regrets. I might need to steal some of the boys’ energy drinks from their stash today.
My body is flush with Winter’s back, curled around her, my knees tucked as close to the bend of hers as I can get. For a minute, I just lie there, my heart thudding in my chest as I think about how it feels like time is slipping away from us.
The silky black strands of her hair are wild from sleep and tickle my face, but I lean closer, nuzzling her head. I take in the scent of her. Will I ever think of berries the same way when she finally decides I’m not worth hanging around?
I hum a little as I run my nose along her jaw.
I tell myself it isn’t creepy to sniff her because of our situation, whatever it’s classified as, but I’m still not entirely convinced.
Maybe I am acting creepy, but I’m worried about how long this will last. Will any amount of time with her be enough? No. I don’t think it will.
Just as I start to pull away, I notice Winter waking up. She grabs my hand that I was about to pull off her waist. “No, don’t leave,” she mumbles sleepily. A sad smile catches on my face that she can’t see, my thoughts exactly, Win, please don’t leave.
Her hand is warm on mine, and her touch, despite its innocent nature, sets me on fire.
“Hold on,” I say as I pull away for a second. Reaching the nightstand on my side of the bed, I first switch on the twinkling Christmas lights I strung up as Winter slept, then I grab what I was looking for and turn back to her.
I roll her over, her body pliant under mine, and hold up the token I brought over Winter’s head where she can see it.
She smiles, taking in the lights and what I’m holding. “You brought mistletoe?”
“Of course. I’ve got to take every chance I can to kiss you.”
“We better not waste it then,” she says as she grabs the sprig of mistletoe from my hand and tosses it away before planting her lips on mine.
Her plush lips move along mine in what starts softly and quickly becomes heated.
I pull back because my intention was affectionate, not sexual.
“Merry Christmas, Win,” I whisper to her.
“It’s about to be the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” she says before she slides her hands under my pajama shirt. “First things first, the elf pajamas have to go.”
Her hands were warm on mine before, but as they slide along my chest, they feel like little icicles. I jerk back with a startled yelp. Before I let her strip me of my sleepwear, I gather her hands in mine and bring them to my mouth, then blow hot air on them.
She smiles sweetly as I warm her fingers. “Sorry for the jump scare.”
Once I determine her hands are now at an adequate temperature, I bring her hands back to my chest.
She laughs at me when I say, “Okay, you may proceed.”
She caresses my chest as she brings the shirt up and over my head as I lift my arms.
“Okay, now these pants,” she says as she sits back on her haunches, assessing the elf pants that include elf shoe footies with a pompom on the tops. “I can’t believe Mom talked everyone into wearing these.” She shakes her head in disbelief.
“It’s your mom. She could talk any of us, particularly me and your brothers, into just about anything.”
“That’s true, but enough talk about her.” Then she pulls the pants down from the attached elf shoes.
When she first pulls on the pants, they’re stubbornly unmovable, so I can’t help but laugh when they finally come off forcefully, with Winter landing at the foot of the bed.
I sit up and look down at her lying on the bed in a heap, her hair wildly in her face.
“You good?” I say through laughter.
A smile graces her face through the strands of her hair, one of the most beautiful and genuine smiles I’ve ever seen on her.
“Fine,” she says as she takes my hand, and I pull her back up.
“Your turn,” she tells me as she raises her hands above her head, and I repeat her actions—but without the toppling over.
When we’re both stripped of our ridiculous outfits, we find our way back to each other. My hands in her hair, we kiss until I feel drugged.
Between kisses and breaths, she gets out, “Please, Saint.” Kiss. “Need you.”
“Anything you need,” I promise, sealing my vow with a kiss as I line myself up with her entrance.
She gasps out a sharp breath when I enter her, and I stop to check if it hurts. She convinces me she’s fine, so I continue to work myself deeper slowly.
Her legs wrap around my back, ankles crossed, holding me tightly to her.
I still sometimes worry about what to do when we’re intimate together, but I let instinct take over. I lift her hips, tilting them up as I push to my knees. The angle makes it feel like I’m deeper inside her than ever before, and from the sounds she makes, it was the right move.
“Harder,” she begs, and I’m practically lost to her, so I comply. It’s not long until she tightens around me, starting to come unraveled.
She moans, head thrashing on the pillow, eyes tight as she breaks. The tightening of her pussy milks my cock and I follow her over the edge.
My hamstrings burn from the exertion, so I flip us, bringing her to lie on top of me as we catch our breaths.
We stay like that for a long time. Maybe she’s as reluctant to pull away as I am, or perhaps that’s my wishful thinking.