Snow Day

He continued to thrust into her until he let out a loud cry, and she felt a burst of warmth inside her before he stilled. They panted in unison, their bodies intertwined, covered in sweat and the smell of sex. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears, felt the ripple of his muscles under her fingertips as she tried to hold onto him.

"Thank you, Jake." She cooed when he ran his finger up her side and then teased her nipple. "For everything."

"My pleasure, Essie." He brushed his lips against hers, his tongue darting out to lick hers. "And there's lots more to come. It's snowing again."

Essie let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes, cuddling up against him as he pulled out of her, making her body twitch. She felt him pull a blanket over them, his arm wrapped protectively around her, his fingers stroking her hair. "Thank heaven's for snow days."

###

Every inch of her body ached as she stretched and yawned. But it was a good ache, especially when she reflected on why. They'd made love several more times—her on top until she came this time; him down between her thighs like the very first time; in the chair again, both ways. Afterwards, they'd curled up on the makeshift bed, necking in each others arms until they fell asleep.

That must have been a couple of hours ago at least. Although still snowing, she could see it was brighter outside the window. She rolled onto her stomach, wrapped her arms around a pillow, and inhaled.

"What is that wonderful smell?"

Jake stepped into sight, dressed only in jeans and a smile. "Lunch. But it will be awhile."

She took another deep breath—partly to calm the shivers running across her skin at seeing his bare chest. A giggle escaped, and she pulled back the covers to reveal herself to him. "Come here then."

His grin widened. "How are you feeling?"

"Rested. And sore. But it's worth the price."

"I'm sorry about that. The only thing I know to do to help just might make it worse." He grunted as he joined her on the floor, cuddling up to her. His lips were soft and tasted of tomato sauce when he kissed her.

She giggled again, licking her lips when they parted. "Mmm. I could just eat you up."

"My, my, Essie. Watch what you say. You never know what may result."

She felt the heat rush from her feet right up to her head when he pressed against her leg, confirming her suspicions about his allusion. "I-I didn't mean..."

"I know." His mouth covered hers again, holding her head back so he could deepen the kiss.

It took her a few seconds to collect her thoughts after he pulled away. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and the smell of a man who'd just taken a shower assaulted her senses. She reached for him, but he batted her hand away and propped himself up on one elbow beside her.

For the next hour, she tried to follow his train of thought as she told him more about herself, and he in turn talked about his life, his land, the weather, anything. All the while, his fingers stroked her shoulderblade, her spine, down to her lower back, up her sides, grazing her breasts, up and down her arms. The warmth of the fire only increased the heat building in her body.

Her moaning and cooing blocked out his voice when he started massaging her muscles, and soon he ceased talking. His mouth joined his fingers, kissing all over her back. She closed her eyes, relaxing into the blankets. Every spot he touched seemed to feed the desire growing within her, but she didn't have the energy to roll over and pull him to her.

He continued plying her skin until she was sleepy again. Just when she was on the edge of drifting off, he slid one arm under her stomach, lifted up, and pushed two pillows under her.

"Jake!" She tried to get up as fear quickly replaced the need to have his body wrapped around her. Only one thought filled her head now: her ultimate taboo. Just when she was beginning to trust him...

"Shh, Essie. Relax." He gently pressed her back to the floor and stroked her hips, her ass, down the outside of her thighs. His lips brushed her temple, whispering words of comfort. "I'm sorry I scared you. I'm not into anal. I promise."

Her heart beat loudly in her ears, and she struggled to breathe against the pillow. When his hand slid down between her legs and stroked her clit and pussy, she gasped, arching back against him.

"Good girl." He pressed two fingers into her and echoed her moan, kissing her again. "Just relax. Trust me."

A myriad of sensations flooded her mind. He would stroke at a different angle, at a different speed, add a finger, inside then outside, pulling moan after moan from her parted lips. He alternated between pressing his lips against hers and kissing her shoulders and back, his other hand caressing the side of her breast with his fingertips.

Usually, she longed to reach the point of release. This time, she just wanted to stay in this constant feeling of gentle pleasure. Her body writhing beneath him, pressing against the pillows, the soft blankets brushing against her legs, her arms. She was so lost in the moment that she didn't realize he had moved until she felt him behind her, his hands gripping her hips.

Her body tensed, her fingers digging into the blankets as a cry of fear raced up her throat. Before it could escape, he pushed into her pussy from behind. A choked gasp finally broke free, and her body rocked back into him on impulse. He used his knees to spread her legs wider, and then he sunk in completely. His body went still except for his hands stroking her lower back.

"You feel so good, Essie." He moaned as he withdrew inch by inch, pulling a litany of Jake, Jake, Jake from her at the prolonged pleasure. When he'd slid in at the same pace, he pressed against her, laying across her back. His hands searched and found her breasts. He kissed her shoulders, brushing her hair to the side, nuzzling the back of her neck, all the while sending shivers up and down her spine.

"No," she moaned when he sat up, missing the feel of him against her. But she sighed when he repeated the process. After the fourth or fifth time, he began a steady rhythm, stroking in and out.

She gripped the blankets, the pillow, crying out each time he smacked his hips against her ass. It was impossible to think now. His hands were everywhere all at once. She whimpered when he didn't linger long enough in certain places. He returned, blindly trying to find that special spot again, making her writhe even more in the process.

He was the first to climax, swelling inside her, thrusting until his fingers pressed into her hips and held her against him with a loud groan. Yet, he did not abandon her and continued to rock at a slower pace, caressing her body.

She didn't want him to stop. Yet, she was so close. Her panting increased, and she had to turn her head on the pillow to breathe, her hair plastered to her sweaty face. "Harder...please...ohh...harder."

"Come on, honey." His strokes sped up, although they were not aimed with recklessness.

Eyes clenched, she focused on reaching that high point, unable to answer when he whispered for her to direct him further.

He slid his hands between her and the pillows to fondle her breast with one hand and stroke her clit with the other. After only a few moments, she cried out his name. He sunk all the way in and then pulled her up against him so they were both kneeling.

She went limp in his arms as pleasure took over her body. One arm tightened around her while he gently pushed her head back against his shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face so he could nuzzle her neck. He twitched, still buried inside her. A whimper escaped, and she dug her fingers into his skin as aftershocks rolled through her.

"It's okay, Essie. Come back to me when you're ready. Just enjoy it."

It must have only been a few minutes, but it felt much longer before her heart and lungs returned to functioning as normal. His lips brushed hers, and then he laid her down, spooning behind her. He covered both of them with a blanket again and caressed her back while her shaking subsided.

"Please, whatever you do, don't stop," she managed to get out, pausing to lick her dry lips. Nothing seemed real now. If it was just a dream, she didn't want to wake up. Not ever.

There was no sound except the crackling of the fireplace. After he shifted and slipped out of her, she felt his hard body pressed against hers, his hands cupping her breasts, his face buried in her hair and neck. The numb feeling of sated desire was starting to wear off, and she moaned, longing for its return.

He chuckled, his breath tickling her skin. "You're insatiable."

###

After lunch, Jake went outside to check for ice on the power lines since the lights had flickered during their meal. He pulled on layer after layer of clothes until Essie didn't recognize him, and then he disappeared into a bright wall of snow before the door closed.

She shivered from the blast of cold air, but a warm sense of comfort came over her as she washed their dishes. It was much different from when she'd cleaned up at home in her little apartment. She paused, her hands buried under the sudsy water, remembering the mess that still littered her sink and counter. It was such a lonely concept, not caring what your place looked like since you knew no one would visit.

A tremor passed through her, and she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath. It helped to think about him holding her this afternoon, his raw, masculine scent mixing with that from the stew simmering on the stove. How they'd silently watched each other as they'd dressed and moved around the kitchen, preparing the table again.

The meal had been satisfying, a mixture of vegetables and pasta and beef in a tomato broth, accompanied by thick chunks of warm bread. The man sure knew how to cook. Another thought that made her sigh with longing.

Their conversation had been minimal. At least the verbal part. He seemed to enjoy the game of staring into her eyes until she blushed and looked away, giggling.

Only once was he the one to blush when she had played footsie and then slid her sock-covered foot up onto his chair to gently rub against him. His jaw had twitched and his eyes darkened. For a brief moment, she thought he was going to sweep the dishes off the table and take her right there. Her only objection was that she hadn't finished her bowl, and she was starving.

With the kitchen straightened up, she set about to find the essentials to make coffee, trying not to think of the life waiting for her back home. She had just sat down on the couch with a steaming mug when Jake returned in a swirl of icy wind and wet snow.

"I hope you have enough for me, too." He peeled back each layer until it lay in a heap by the door.

Her eyes followed each removal with growing desire...and a little despair knowing that this couldn't possibly last. "I made a full pot."

"Good." He shook out his hair, disappeared into the kitchen behind her, and then joined her on the couch with his own mug of coffee. "Thanks for cleaning up."

She shrugged. "It was the least I could do."

For some reason, she felt nervous, much as she had last night when she'd discovered her surroundings. Something had changed since Jake had gone outside, but she couldn't put a finger on it. As they sat quietly, sipping their coffee, staring at anything but each other, she contemplated what could have happened while they were apart.

The only thing that made sense was precisely that: they had been apart. He'd had time to think about what they'd done. Just like this morning when she'd found him pacing. He didn't seem as agitated now, but still...

"We shouldn't have any more trouble with the power unless we get more ice in this storm."

"Oh? Good."

"Thanks for cleaning the dishes."

"You already said that, but you're welcome."

"Did I? Sorry."

"It's alright."

"I better put on some more wood."

She glanced at the blazing fireplace but said nothing. Something was definitely wrong; it just wasn't her place to get involved. She'd interrupted his schedule, whatever that might have been. Sure, they were forced to share Christmas together, but when the storm passed and it was safe to travel, she'd return to her own life and he would continue with his. And whatever was bothering him would be no more.

He grabbed a couple of small sticks, broke them in half, and then tossed them into the flames. He lingered, keeping his back to her. His expression was impossible to decipher as she watched him in the mirror. After several minutes, his shoulders relaxed under his sweater, and he exhaled loudly.

It's not my place...

Pushing away the thought, she went to him and hugged him from behind. His body was cooler than she'd imagined despite the layers he'd worn outside and the heat of fire before him. He fit well into her arms, and she sighed herself, laying her forehead between his shoulderblades.

Neither said a word, but he covered her hand with his. His touch was icy against the her own heat. Sparks snapped in the fireplace as the logs shifted, and an idea popped into her head. If anything, it would be a parting gesture of thanks for his hospitality. An early Christmas gift per se.

"Jake, lay down."

He chuckled and turned to face her, the shadow of deep contemplation fading. "Been too long, huh?"

She swallowed. "Just...just lay down."

He raised his eyebrows but complied.

She made sure he was comfortable and then said, "Put your hands behind your head. Yes, just like that. Now, no touching, no matter what."

"Essie?" He started to sit up, but she pushed him back down.

"No...no touching."

"You don't have to—"

"Shh. No talking, either."

He frowned for a moment, and then he put his hands back behind his head and stared up at her.

After a big breath, she knelt down beside him and lowered her face to his. His chin tipped up, and their mouths met. The tip of her tongue slowly traced his lips, and when they parted, she slipped her tongue into his mouth. Her hand caressed his jaw, her fingertips sliding up to bury in his hair as she waited for her courage to build.

Their tongues danced together, and for a moment, she wished she hadn't given him the rule to not touch. She longed for his hands to hold her face, to bury in her hair as well, to control her. But this was her decision, and she was in charge this time.

She let the kiss linger a moment longer and then slowly pulled away. His tongue snaked out and brushed against her mouth before he licked his lips. She held his gaze as she scooted down to his waist and ran her hand over his stomach. The glimmer in his eyes told her he knew what she was going to do, and he was going to let her even if he knew she was still unsure.

When her fingers found the hem of his sweater and slipped underneath, she felt his heartbeat quicken. While it may have been cool only minutes before, his skin was quickly warming up. She smiled at the thought that it was partially due to her. At least she hoped.

She had to tear her eyes away from his just so she could concentrate. Her hand lowered and flattened across his abdomen, her fingers splayed out trying to touch all of him at once. He moaned when she sat up and flung her leg over him to straddled his legs so she could use both hands. She glanced up to see that he'd closed his eyes, his lips pressed tightly together. She tried not to laugh at his strained expression. She had only just begun.

Minutes passed while she stroked him beneath his sweater, outlining his ribs, massaging his sides. She pushed up his sweater and leaned down to lick his nipple. That made him gasp. She did it again but lingered, covering the small nub with her lips and sucking gently. This time he moaned. She tried to duplicate what he had done to her own nipples, licking, sucking, nibbling, and pinching.

His body shifted slightly beneath her, and she glanced up. His eyes were open now, reflecting the fire beside them and his desire inside. Sweat dotted his chest, and she helped him remove the sweater. When he lay back down, his muscles flexed under her fingertips, under her lips.

She scooted back, dragging her flannel-covered chest against his bare skin until she was laying between his legs, her head even with his belt. He held her gaze for only a moment before she forced herself to look away. Her courage was dwindling, evident of her shaky hands as they unbuckled and unzipped him.

They both inhaled sharply when her fingers brushed against his hardness. She did it again, but slower, biting her lower lip when he seemed to grow stiffer. His continued groans expressed his impatience as she stroked down, cupping him through his jeans. When he bucked under her touch again, she sat up and eased the pants down to his ankles.

Her hand returned to stroke the prize again through his checkered boxers, relishing the different texture beneath her palm. She could feel the contours of him; feel the throbbing now that he'd been released from his confines. She could wrap her hand around his cock encased in a thin layer of flannel. Her free hand went to her own flannel-covered breasts and mimicked her right hand as it squeezed and massaged the essence of his manhood. She didn't object when he rubbed his leg against her, encouraging her.

Lost in the moment, she closed her eyes and licked her lips. Her motions became more forceful as the desire built inside, chasing away her nerves. If he hadn't cried out, she might have continued forever...or at least until she achieved orgasm—his or hers or both, it didn't matter.

"Sorry!" Her hand relaxed on him and gently rubbed away any pain she had caused. He blinked slowly, signaling that he was okay, and then he let out his breath.

Her fingers slipped into the slit of his boxers, finally touching him flesh-to-flesh. His skin was a mixture of velvet and leather, and it wrapped his cock like a sheath, moving with her hand. Wanting to draw out the torture, but as anxious as he probably was, she removed her hand and slid his boxers down over his hips.

Casting both jeans and boxers aside, she lay back between his legs. One hand circled him again while the other cupped his balls, and he groaned. His skin burned, and the hardness of him made her moan, remembering how he had stroked in and out of her so many times, bringing her so much pleasure.

While she had never done this to any man before, she'd read enough erotica to know what to do, or at least what was expected. Successfully carrying out those actions was a whole other story. But if she took it one step at a time...

She returned to stroking, changing speed and pressure—careful not to be too rough—but her arms grew tired of holding her up in the process. Shifting slightly, she found it more comfortable to lay her head on his hip, her hair falling across his thigh. Her mouth was in the perfect position to kiss the side of his cock. It jumped slightly as her lips grazed his skin, but she held it in place and tried again. It was definitely different than kissing his lips or his nipples.

Essie inhaled, smelling the muskiness of his groin, a mixture of sweat and pure manliness and desire. Her hand continued to stroke him as she kissed up the side of his cock and back down, nuzzling her nose in the juncture of his hip, nibbling gently. It was hard to distinguish just how he tasted, but it wasn't unpleasant. His moans proved that he liked what she was doing, so she was happy to oblige.

His body flexed under her, and she felt him watching her. When she stroked up again and raised her head slightly, she heard his sharp intake of breath. Slowly, she brought the tip of his cock to her lips and brushed it against her mouth. He hissed, and she did it again. The third time, she parted her lips and darted her tongue out to lick him, tasting a wet saltiness, again not unpleasant. She actually thought she heard him growl.