Home for Christmas (Willow Park #5) (9 page)

“What’s that?” he asked, looking adorably confused.

She turned it on and saw enlightenment dawn on his face.

“Remember Heidi gave it to me? We played with it a
little…before. Then, when you were gone, I was using it…a lot…when I took
baths. I think maybe I got so used to it that it takes…takes more stimulation
to make me…make me get there.” He was her husband, and she loved and trusted
him.

But she was still mortified to make the admission.

She came to sit back next to him on the bed, holding the
sponge and not daring to meet his eyes.

He reached over to take it out of her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Maybe I shouldn’t have used it.
Maybe I should have just…just…”

Mark turned the sponge on.

Her eyes shot back to him. Then she was even more startled
when he gently eased her down on her back. “Mark? What are you…” She didn’t
finish the question when what he was doing became obvious.

He slowly untied her bathrobe and then, even more slowly,
pulled it open to reveal her naked body. He pressed the vibrating sponge
against her belly, sliding it up toward her breasts in a leisurely path.

She gasped as the pleasure started to build as he ran the
device across her nipples, making circles and then moving it back down.

She shifted her hips as her arousal from before deepened,
heightened.

As he lowered the sponge, he used his other hand to take
each of her hands in turn and stretch her arms above her head, until her body
was stretched out beneath him

He lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and suckled it as
he teased her with the sponge between her legs.

She made a lot of silly sounds as she arched up toward him
shamelessly, desperately needing more stimulation.

Then he moved the sponge to her clit and held it firmly
against her, and she cried out as an orgasm spiraled up far more quickly than
she expected. Her body shook as he kept stimulating her, extending the duration
of her climax. He’d raised his head so he could watch her with a hot,
possessive expression, as if he was enjoying her orgasm as much as she was.

She was gasping helplessly as she finally came down, and she
pulled him down into a kiss.

He kissed her back, eagerly, hungrily, and then he
straightened up, adjusting their bodies so he was sitting on his knees, between
her legs, and her bottom was basically in his lap.

He was hard again, and she had barely come down when he was
entering her once more, making her cry out with the pleasure and excitement of
it.

Her body was fully displayed to him, and it was completely
in his control. He held her hips to bring her into position so he could make
tight, little thrusts.

It felt good. Sophie was doing her best to move with him,
loving the way he felt inside her and the entitled look in his eyes even more.

Then he turned the sponge back on and pressed it down
against her exposed clit. She was almost sobbing as the sensations started to
hit her, but he took her hand, putting it over the sponge. “Hold it there.”

Then he took her bottom in his hands so they could move
better together.

There were so many sensations from so many locations that
she could barely handle it. She was sobbing with pleasure, tears running down
her face, as she came hard all around him—and then again as he kept moving
inside her.

She was coming one more time when he let out a ragged
exclamation as deep pleasure twisted and then softened on his face. She was
drenched and panting frantically when he turned off the sponge and finally
pulled out of her.

Never once, in all her life, had she experienced pleasure
quite so intense.

Mark collapsed beside her on the bed, and they held onto
each other for a long time, until they’d finally caught their breath.

“I can’t believe…” she finally gasped out, stroking his
chest as she curled up against him. “I can’t believe we did that.”

He stroked her hair away from her face very gently. “We were
always good together.”

“I know. It’s always good. But that was…mind-blowing.”

Mark smiled as he slid his hand down to cup her bottom. It
wasn’t a sexual touch now as much as it was possessive. “Then we’ll have to try
it again.”

“I didn’t know I was even capable of feeling that way.”

“I think there’s a lot you’re capable of that you’ve never
imagined.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that. It sounded like he
was talking about something more than sex. But, either way, she was sure it was
a compliment, so she rubbed against his warm body and sighed contentedly. “I
think I could sleep for about fifteen hours now.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They both fell asleep, almost immediately, but Sophie woke
up when Mark got out of bed.

It was pitch black, so it had to be the wee hours of the
morning. She knew what he was doing. He was going out to walk in the middle of
the night.

He’d been doing it nearly every night.

Evidently, even mind-blowing sex didn’t stop him from
needing to do so.

On Friday morning, Sophie woke up
before the alarm sounded and rolled over toward Mark, as she always did when
she woke up early.

She liked their silly little chats early in the morning. She
liked them so much her body had unconsciously decided to always wake up early
now.

This was one of the few times of the day when she really
felt close to Mark, other than when they had sex. But, in some ways, this was
even better, since it felt deeper, more intimate.

She nestled against him, smiling rather groggily when he
wrapped an arm around her.

“Ouch,” she said, when she felt a tug on her hair, which had
evidently gotten briefly tangled in his fingers.

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll stoically hide the unbearable pain.”

He chuckled, as she’d hoped he would, and adjusted her so
she was nestled against him more comfortably. He brushed little kisses into her
hair.

She tried to think of something meaningful to say. He was
most open at times like these, and she thought they might actually be able to
have real conversations, ones that were so hard when they were out of bed. But,
before she could think of any way to lead into a conversation, he’d tilted up
her head and was kissing her lips.

It felt good, and she liked how soft and needy he felt. She
responded, although she was a little disappointed. They could have sex any
time. She’d rather they open up in other ways right now. But soon her body was
just as into things as his was, as he turned over onto her back and kissed his
way down her body.

When he got to her clit, she was gasping, and after some
work on his part with his fingers and mouth, she was coming in shudders and
moans. He was smiling as he rose up and settled his body between her legs. He
took her hard and fast, and she wrapped her legs around him.

He wanted her, needed her. She could feel how much he did in
the motion of his body, the acceleration of his huffs and grunts.

But she wanted him to need her in other ways too. Once
they’d both found their satisfaction, and he was holding her very tightly, she
felt a wave of disappointment.

Things between them had been better since the Bible study
earlier in the week. It felt like they weren’t both playing out roles anymore.
But, if their little morning chats were going to change into sex, then she
would have lost some of the real closeness with him they’d had before.

She didn’t want him to see that she was disappointed,
though. It would hurt him. She knew it would. And it wasn’t fair to him. He had
no idea how much the silly early morning talks meant to her. He would only know
she was rejecting the love he’d offered her.

So she stayed in his arms for a few minutes, smiling and
pressing little kisses on his skin. Then she groaned and rolled away from him.
“I need to get dressed for work,” she said, making sure to keep hiding her real
feelings.

He made a throaty sound of refusal. “You still have time.”
He tried to pull her back into his arms. “Stay in bed with me.”

Irrationally, she felt crushed, and it was too early in the
morning for her to mentally talk herself out of it. “I really can’t.” She gave
him one last kiss. “I need to wash my hair today.”

She did need to wash her hair, but that wasn’t the real
reason. She cried under the shower for a minute—making sure it was silent—until
she reminded herself that things were going as well as she could expect them. This
week, they had made some real progress, and nothing was wrong with this
morning.

Mark wanted to be close to her. That was what she wanted too.

If he only seemed to really want her body right now, then she
could keep being patient. He’d wanted all of her before. Once he’d healed more,
surely he would want that again.

***

The next day, Sophie and Mark drove
to a Christmas tree farm about forty-five minutes away to find their Christmas
tree.

Sophie was excited about the outing. Aside from her little
disappointment the morning before, the last few days had gone really well. They
might not be perfect, but things between them were significantly better than
they’d been a month ago. It hadn’t always been easy, but Saturday felt like a
reward.

She was finally getting to pick out a Christmas tree with
her husband.

Since her parents had always used the same artificial tree
and she hadn’t felt like celebrating while Mark was captured, she’d actually
never gone to pick out a live tree in her entire life.

Evergreen Inn and Farm was out in the middle of nowhere. It
was a lovely, charming place—complete with an inn, a lake, a barn that could be
used for gatherings, a holiday shop, and, of course, the Christmas tree farm.

As soon as they pulled up the drive and parked in one of the
designated spaces, a cheerful woman who looked around forty ran out to greet
them.

She said her name was Daisy. She owned the farm, and she was
thrilled to have them here.

Her cheerfulness was rather overpowering, but it did feel
genuine, so Sophie couldn’t help but like the woman. Daisy showed them around,
and then told them that they could drive around the field of Christmas trees
for as long as they wanted, picking one out. Once they’d decided, they could
come back to the main building, and Harry would be happy to help them cut it
down and tie it to the roof of their car.

Harry was evidently the gruff man with graying hair who was
repairing the wishing well. He heard his name and gave them a quick wave, not
even cracking a smile.

“He’s grumpy all the time,” Daisy explained. “But he has a
good heart. One day, I swear I’m going to get that man to smile.”

Mark and Sophie smiled at each other.

It was a cold, sunny day, and Sophie put back on her red
gloves after they’d gotten in the car again.

“She’s quite a character,” Sophie said, looking in the
rearview mirror at Daisy, who had gone over to talk to Harry.

“No wonder Harry doesn’t smile, if he’s faced with her all
day. There’s only so much cheerfulness one can take.”

Sophie gave him a quick look but saw he was teasing, so she
chuckled in response.

She turned on Christmas music to get them in the spirit as
they drove down the paths between the trees, checking out the different
possibilities. Sophie had no idea what she was looking for, but Mark seemed to
think they needed a North Carolina Fraser fir. He showed her the difference
between those and the spruces, and she told him they all looked like Christmas
trees to her.

He rolled his eyes at her, clearly trying to hide a smile.

“Oh, look at that one,” she said, her eyes widening as she
saw a beautiful, large tree at the end of a row.

Mark laughed out loud. “That would never fit into the
apartment.”

She put the car into park and got out. “I think it would. We
have really high ceilings.”

“But not twenty-foot ceilings. That thing is enormous.” Mark
had gotten out of the car too, and he pointed to a much smaller tree. “We need
one about this size.”

“But that’s tiny. I want a nice, big one.”

“We have to get it up the stairs and in through the door,
though. And we don’t want to have to lop off the top in order to get it to
stand up.” He was walking down another row. “What about this one?”

“That one is skinny.” She saw one she liked the looks of.
“What about this one? It’s nice and full.”

“It looks like it has a pot-belly,” Mark said in amusement,
coming over to stand near the tree. “It’s as wide as it is tall.”

“It is not. Don’t exaggerate. It just has some meat on its
bones.”

“We just got started looking. Let’s not decide too quickly.”

She gave him a playful huff as she took his arm. “You just
don’t like the one I picked out.”

They walked or drove through the entire selection of Fraser
firs, spending more than an hour looking through them all. Mark kept pointing
out possibilities, but Sophie didn’t like any of them as much as she did the
tree she’d picked out earlier, which Mark had dubbed the “pot-bellied tree.”

He put up a fight that she was sure wasn’t serious, until he
finally relented.

It was so cold and she’d been laughing so much that she was
breathless as they headed back to the main building.

Mark was flushed and laughing too, and he looked absolutely
gorgeous in the winter sunshine, his brown hair glowing and his skin with more
color than it had had since he’d returned.

She took his hand as they walked, and even with her gloves
on, she could feel the warmth of his hand. They rounded up Harry and showed him
the tree they’d chosen.

He examined it, shaking his head and muttering, “Not sure
how this tree got so fat.”

Mark snorted, and Sophie said, “It’s not fat! It’s just
big-boned.”

“A big-boned tree,” Harry muttered, his grizzled face
surprisingly pleasant and almost attractive. “Never heard the like of it.”

Mark was obviously trying to suppress his amusement, while
Sophie gave him a stern look.

Harry pulled out the saw he’d brought with him. “Who wants to
do the honors?”

Sophie looked automatically to Mark, who raised his eyebrows
at her. “I think Sophie should do the honors, since it’s her tree.”

He was obviously teasing her, but she took it as a challenge
just the same. She steeled her shoulders and walked over to take the saw. It
was heavier than she expected, and she looked at it dubiously.

Manual labor wasn’t her forte. She’d never used a saw before
in her life.

“How do I do it?” she asked Harry.

“Just line it up at the bottom, where you want to cut, and
go to it. Tiny thing like you can never manage it, though.”

Sophie sucked in an indignant breath and turned to look at
Mark, who was smiling at her with such affection she almost lost her breath.

Determined to do anything that would make him look at her
like that some more, she steeled her courage and carried the saw over to the
tree. There was a decent length trunk at the bottom, but the branches were so
wide it was hard to get to.

She had to fully extend her arms and crouch over to get the
saw into place. She ran it across a few times and managed to cut about a
centimeter into the bark.

Laughing, Mark came over and put his arms around her to hold
the saw more securely. He was very close. His body was warm and big and strong
behind her. She felt a thrill of pleasure at the feel of him against her, at
how close he was, even in the presence of another person.

Together, they managed to cut into the trunk, but eventually
Sophie just couldn’t do it. She let go of the saw and let Mark take over, and
soon he had the tree all the way down.

As they loaded up the tree, Harry told Mark, “Your little
wife is a tough customer, isn’t she?”

Sophie was ridiculously flattered by the words, and even
more so when Mark put his arms around her, pulling her against him in a quick
hug. “She sure is.”

Sophie decided then and there that they were going to come
here to get their Christmas tree every year for the rest of their lives.

***

When they’d gotten back and tied the
tree securely onto their car, they went to look around in the holiday shop.

About half the store was made up of Christmas items—some of
them handmade and adorable—but the rest of the shop covered other holidays of
the year.

Sophie picked out some Christmas tree ornaments and a wreath
for their door while Mark was talking to Harry. She was looking through an
assortment of stockings when an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back
against a familiar, lean body.

She smiled up at Mark. “Look at how cute these are.”

He leaned over, nuzzling her ear before he said, “Adorable.”

She wondered if he was thinking about sex. It certainly felt
that way from the way he was touching her. For the last few days, they’d had
sex more than once a day. He couldn’t seem to get enough. She liked that he
wanted her so much, and she had no complaints about having a lot of sex. But it
felt kind of like they were having more sex than they were actually talking,
and she wanted their relationship to be more than that.

She liked that he was affectionate right now, but she would
have preferred to have a good conversation.

This wasn’t the time to say anything, though, so she gave
him a teasing smile. “I hope you’re not expecting anything to happen way out
here.”

“What do you think I’m expecting to happen?” One of his
hands was on her belly, and she could feel the hard line of his body against
her back.

“I don’t know. But, since we’re forty-five minutes from our
apartment, I hope you’re not getting too excited about it. There’s a limit,
after all, to the amount of sex a girl can handle.”

“What makes you think I’m thinking about sex?”

She thought she caught an odd note in his tone, but when she
looked up at his face, it was relaxed and amused. “I know how to spot the
signs.”

“Maybe you’re wrong this time.”

She laughed. “Well, good. Because soon I might pass out from
exhaustion.” She turned around, planning to pull him down into a quick kiss,
but Daisy came out from the back of the store just then, so Sophie gently
pulled out of his embrace.

She took her items up to the cashier to pay for them, and
Mark went to wait outside.

“I hope everything’s all right with your fella,” Daisy said
with a smile, neatly folding the stockings into a bag.

Sophie widened her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I just sensed something. He’s okay, isn’t
he?”

“Yes. He’s fine.”

“You two aren’t fighting, are you?”

Sophie’s mouth dropped open slightly, she was so surprised.
How could Daisy possibly think they were fighting, when Mark had had his hands
all over her just the minute before? “No. We’re not.”