I lock eyes with my lover and moan when his hands grip my hips just right. You know what I’m talking about. Possessive and little too rough, but no hard enough to leave marks.
“Let me show you what I wished for Christmas.”
“By all means give me the naughtiest you’ve got, witch. I’m yours all night long.”
I don’t know how we do it but we make this work. It’s crazy, spontaneous… magical and pure and what works for us. It’s all we need.
For now.
Maybe next Christmas I’ll get a chance at a Christmas wish of my own that ends with Einar wrapped in a pretty red bow. I can wish.
Until next Christmas...