Sugar, Spice, and Shifters: A Touch of Holiday Magic

by Élianne Adams

  He thrust harder and then harder, tightening his hold on her hands.

  “Together,” he whispered, eyes locked on her.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  The sound of her low voice, the feel of her skin against his was what broke him, and as she tightened down on him and cried out her pleasure, he let go, emptying himself inside her.

  TEN

  The sun dawned bright, and Sandra cuddled near the ember that was next to her.

  The last day and a half had passed quite eventfully, Ormr and his skillful lovemaking leaving her little time or energy to do anything but marvel at how wonderful it was to be with him.

  And now, on Christmas Eve, her spirit was lifted in a way she hadn’t dared hope or believe possible.

  “Good morning,” he said as he rolled atop her, eyes bright and soft with affection, his hair mussed where she’d run her fingers through it or gripped the ends tight as he’d slammed into her over and over and over again.

  “Good morning to you,” she said, voice breaking when he settled himself between her thighs, his erect cock slipping into her when he thrust.

  “Better morning,” she said on a moan, speech ending when he began to move in earnest.

  Later, after she’d screamed until she was nearly hoarse, they went to the living room.

  “You don’t have a tree?” she said, voicing the observation she’d made when she’d first arrived.

  He shook his head. “There is one at my home, not here.”

  “Christmas is not a big part of dragon tradition, I guess?”

  “No, but my wife enjoyed it. And she found trees particularly delightful. I continued after her death because my sons seemed to like it.”

  They were silent for a moment, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Then he spoke.

  “What about you?” he said.

  “I love the holidays. In fact,” she said, smiling at him, “do you have any paper? Wrapping paper maybe?”

  “Perhaps,” he said.

  He stood, and she watched the powerful motion of his body as he opened the closet door and rummaged inside.

  “I’m not even sure why this is here. There’s no reason for it to be,” he said.

  “I’m glad it is. Do you have scissors?”

  He nodded and then retrieved the scissors.

  “We have this tradition. Would you like to participate?” she asked.

  He smiled. “Very much so,” he said.

  She smiled as well and then spread the paper out on the table and began cutting shapes.

  “Hmm. We usually do angels, but I think I’ll do a star for you. More manly, and you’ve been up in the clouds,” she said.

  “And now so have you,” he said.

  She mock-frowned. “Don’t remind me.”

  They laughed and then she looked up at him when she felt his gaze on her.

  “We?” he asked when they were settled, tilting his head.

  “Yes, my daughter Ashley and I. We used to do this every year. I made a big show of it and let her choose her favorite wrapping paper. And then on Christmas we would make ornaments, angels, trees, stars sometimes. She loved it, and she never caught on, or at least pretended she didn’t.”

  “Caught on to what?” Ormr asked.

  Suddenly shy, she kept her eyes down, focused on the paper. “Oh, it was a big trick, just something I did to make the holiday pass a little faster. I could never afford nice decorations and lots of presents, so I tried to make it special, make it fun for her.”

  “And the girl’s father? Where was he?”

  “He was around at first, and he helped out when he could, but he didn’t have a lot either, and he eventually moved away. So it was just me and her mostly,” she said.

  Then she went quiet, not sure what had made her open up about something so personal, but feeling comfortable nonetheless despite the hint of embarrassment she felt.

  — — —

  “Here’s yours,” Sandra said, arm extended, shiny piece of paper in her hand.

  He took the scrap of paper, letting his fingers linger against hers as he stared into her eyes.

  She looked away shyly, the expression endearing, especially considering what they had shared in the hours before.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  She looked at him again. “You’re welcome. I’m happy to extend the tradition. And happy to share with you,” she added softly.

  “I’m happy to be a part of it,” he said.

  He meant it, too.

  He’d become a little more sentimental over the years, and he was immeasurably pleased that he got a chance to share something that Sandra obviously treasured so much.

  And he wanted to find the moron who’d let her go, punch him in the face for any pain he might have caused her, and then shake his hand for leaving her.

  He lamented the suffering she had experienced, those undoubtedly hard years alone with a child to care for, but he was unspeakably happy that she was free, here with him now.

  “What about you?”

  He lifted a brow.

  “Do you have any traditions?”

  “Yes, the boys and I usually get together.” He shook his head. “I have to stop doing that. They’re grown men. But I still call them the boys.”

  She gave him a commiserating look. “I understand this very well. Ashley’s barely grown, but I still can’t help but think of her as my baby.”

  “My sons are much older than her, older than you, in fact, and I still feel the same.”

  She giggled. “I’m still blown away by that,” she said.

  “By what?”

  “As I said, you seem so normal. Well, not normal, not exactly. But it’s difficult to imagine, you know, what you are.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he said.

  Then he clamped his mouth closed, belatedly realizing the implication. The idea that they might spend time together after this was something he hadn’t considered, but it felt so right, and was something he knew he couldn’t do without it.

  They were silent for a few moments, Sandra watching him. Then she said, “I can see it, you and your boys, your wife, huddled around a Christmas tree.”

  “Me too. Those are some of my fondest memories. Although it is kind of hard to believe,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “I never had any intention of becoming a family man.”

  She tilted her head, smiled at him. “You were a bad boy?”

  “I guess that’s what you call it today, but in my time I was considered spirited. Wild.”

  “And what does that mean for a dragon?” she said.

  “Mostly meant I was more interested in fighting. Hard to believe that I now spend most of my time in an office, but there was a day when I flew through the skies, free, wild.”

  “Laying waste to all in your wake?” she said.

  He chuckled. “Not quite, but closer than you’d probably think.”

  “What changed? Responsibility?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “You met your wife, and she changed you?”

  “No. Not at all. Ours was an arranged marriage.”

  She drew her brows together. “Arranged?”

  “It’s still fairly common now, and was especially so back then.”

  “So it wasn’t a love match; you married your wife for God and country, that sort of thing,” she said, frowning slightly.

  “Yes. Her family was quite prominent, as was mine, and hers had money, mine power. It was a natural fit.”

  Her frown deepened. “But I thought dragons had…mates. Their one true love.”

  “Some of us do. Some of us aren’t so fortunate.”

  “So you married her, stayed together suffering?”

  “Not at all. Our marriage was arranged, but each day with her was a gift. I grew to love her very much, and she felt the same. We were both very lucky.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments m
ore, and then she said, “Whoa. It’s getting dark out. Do you have a computer?”

  “Of course.”

  “May I borrow it? I’d like to email Ashley since I can’t call.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Thank you, Ormr.”

  — — —

  After Sandra used the computer, she retired to the guest room and Ormr didn’t see her again.

  But he felt her, acutely, in every cell of his body, and it took everything inside of him to stay away.

  He drifted out to the balcony, looking up to the stars. “You said this would happen,” he said, “you wanted it, too. I didn’t believe you then. But now…”

  He trailed off, looked out over the pristine yard, saw the glimmer of the full, fluffy flakes of snow. Countless times over the years he had reflected on how wise his wife had been, how much wiser than he, and she’d again proven him right.

  At the height of her illness, when he’d finally accepted that she couldn’t be saved, he’d sworn that he would never get over her, that he would be alone forever, but she had just laughed, told him that one day he would meet his mate, and that he better not do anything to ruin it or she would haunt him.

  And when he thought of Sandra, thought of the instant connection between them, the way that a glimpse of her made him feel, the way he had felt when they were together, he knew she was right.

  “It’s cold out,” she said, her husky voice piercing the darkness.

  “Not so cold,” he replied. He extended a hand. “Please. Join me,” he said.

  She walked toward him, stepping carefully over the icy porch.

  “You shouldn’t be out here. Especially with no shoes,” he said as he pulled her against him. “Here,” he said, settling her against the porch railing, and then wrapped his arms around her tight. Something unfurled in his chest when she nestled closer to him.

  “What are you doing out here?” she said.

  “Contemplating my future,” he replied.

  “Heavy thinking, then,” she said.

  “Not so heavy,” he responded.

  As he stood next to her, he began to kiss her neck, unable to resist touching her when he was so close. She leaned into his touch and braced her feet against his, curling her cold toes against his feet.

  “This is lovely,” she said, looking up at the starry sky.

  “It is,” he replied, his gaze squarely centered on her.

  They stood entwined until he felt Sandra’s faint tremor.

  “Time to go,” he said, sweeping her up into his arms.

  “I can walk, Ormr,” she said, laughing.

  He kissed her cold cheek. “But I like to carry you.”

  So she let him, burrowing into his arms as she had when she’d flown with him, but even though they were grounded, he felt as if he were soaring through the air on the strength of his feelings for her.

  She looked up at him at that thought, saw a shimmer in the darkness of his eyes, and before she could stop herself, she stretched, pressing a kiss against his throat, the closest place she could reach. She hoped he couldn’t sense what the kiss meant to her, wouldn’t be able to tell how she put those feelings she didn’t dare speak into it, but she did, kissing at his hot, smooth neck with a fervor that she’d never say in words.

  His grip tightened, and when he reached the bed, he lowered her to the floor, eyes still shimmering but his face pulled tight in what she hoped was desire.

  “Your clothes,” he said, voice a tight whisper, one that was not nearly as controlled as usual, “remove them.”

  A moment of intense shyness struck her, but then she met Ormr’s gaze, and that shyness fled. There was no question that he wanted her, probably more than anyone ever had, and she wouldn’t stand in the way of his desire, not when she wanted him just as much.

  She pushed the pants down, noticing how his gaze caught on her thighs, but then she looked away and lifted the shirt up and over her head. Underwear hadn’t even been an afterthought, not after their first night together, so she now stood before him, bare but not exposed, a feeling she thought she could get used to, one she prayed she didn’t.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered as he lifted his hands to cup her breasts, kneading and molding them as if he couldn’t get enough.

  But then he dropped his hands abruptly. Sandra bit back her protest when she looked in his eyes, now almost black with passion, and then watched him remove his own clothes, his hard, muscled chest exposed first, followed by his strong, powerful legs, the thick, hard, heavily veined penis that lay between them.

  Sandra had seen him, touched him, many times in these last days, but she hadn’t gotten used to seeing him, gotten used to how she reacted to him, her anticipation rising to a fevered pitch at the thought of him filling her with his hardness.

  He approached her, the slight shift in his cock, which now shone at the tip from the precum that leaked from him furiously, drawing her attention fully, so fully that she was surprised when he touched her. He trailed his fingers across her collarbones, the slightly rough tips making her shiver from the sensation, and then he gripped her shoulder, turned her.

  Automatically, she lifted her hands to the headboard and braced herself, anticipation rising even higher when she felt Ormr’s skin against hers, and then the heat from his body as he centered himself behind her. His hands against her as he stroked his fingers over her hips, down her stomach to nestle between her thighs were enough to send her careening toward the deep completion that only he brought, and when he slicked his fingers down her lips and then back up again and then caught her clit between them and pressed down hard, she came apart in his arms, the barest touch from him enough to coax a mind-shattering orgasm.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered, his breath heavy and warm against her ear.

  “Always,” she replied, too drunk off the passion he’d induced to think about the consequences of the words.

  He didn’t speak again, but he didn’t have to. The sheer, utter joy she felt when he pressed himself inside her, filling her with one deep thrust was all she needed to know, all she needed to feel. She heard a hitch in his breath, felt his heart pounding against his chest, the thud moving in time with her own.

  And then there was nothing but the sensation of his skin against hers, his body feeling hers, the beautiful mixture of peace and passion that she’d never felt anywhere else and doubted she ever would.

  — — —

  “It’s after midnight,” she said a long time later after he’d settled her in his bed and wrapped his arms around her, his heavy biceps atop hers, his forearms cradling her.

  “So it is,” he whispered, his breath brushing against her ear. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, her soft curves filling his arms perfectly.

  “Merry Christmas, Ormr,” she whispered.

  “Merry Christmas, Sandra,” he replied as he drifted off to sleep.

  EPILOGUE

  New Year’s Eve

  “Mommy!” Ashley called.

  “‘Mommy’? So you’re excited to see me,” Sandra said.

  “Of course,” Ashley said, holding her tight. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, baby,” Sandra said, squeezing her precious daughter a little tighter.

  She pulled back, touched her daughter’s face. “You look good. Happy.”

  “It was fun. Dad and…”

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” Sandra said, reassuring her daughter.

  “It was nice, good to spend more time with the boys.”

  “Yes, you should get to know your brothers better.”

  “I want to, and Dad said he’s really going to try,” she said.

  “And you?”

  “I want to.”

  “Then you should. Your father’s a good man. And he loves you.”

  “I felt so guilty about spending Christmas away from you.”

  “No. I wanted you to spend time with your dad, get to know him and not worry about me.”

 
“I wanted to. It was just tough thinking of you in that strange place all by yourself.”

  Unbidden, an image of Ormr popped into her brain.

  Ashley, never one to miss anything, lasered her eyes on her mother.

  “What is that face telling me?”

  “Wait a second, aren’t I supposed to be interrogating you, not the other way around?”

  “Maybe, but you know I never do anything, and you have a very guilty look.”

  “Well…never mind.”

  “Uh-uh. No fair.”

  “I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you,” Sandra said.

  Ashley blanched. “Am I old enough to hear this?” she said, suddenly going shy.

  “Probably not. Check that, definitely not.”

  “You met somebody?” Ashley said, her face saying she was half excited, half mortified.

  “I did.”

  “At the cabin?”

  “Well, I got caught in the snow, and…”

  “You met somebody and he swept you off your feet. How romantic!”

  “Funny, but he did. Literally.”

  Ashley frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well. He’s a dragon.”

  “Oh my God! You mean you spent Christmas with a dragon!”

  “Yes,” Sandra said.

  “Okay, this is weird and super-exciting. You like him?”

  “Very much so.”

  “And will you see him again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Sandra had to consciously erase the frown off her face.

  When the roads had cleared, Ormr had made a few calls, and hours later a car had arrived and taken her back to her home, where her own car had been waiting for her. Before she’d left, he’d said a friendly good-bye, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

  And that disappointed her greatly, more than she wanted to acknowledge.

  It was stupid; they hadn’t had any conversations about the future, about the moment, even, but she missed him fiercely, wanted to see him again. But she didn’t even have his phone number, didn’t know if pride would allow her to call.