With Christmas coming up and so much work to do, I was a little surprised when Jalen said he wanted us to go out on Saturday evening, but I was also eager to do something fun. With all the seriousness behind the work I was doing, having a date like a regular couple sounded like exactly what I needed. We’d gone to dinner, but he hadn’t told me what we’d be doing after. I’d assumed a movie or maybe a club to listen to some live music.

What I hadn’t expected was for him to take us outside the city limits and up a winding driveway, past a sign that said Hampton Acres Christmas Tree Farm.

“A Christmas tree farm?” I shot him a surprised look.

He didn’t say anything until he parked in front of a large, rustic-looking barn, the expression on his face telling me that he wasn’t ignoring me, but rather figuring out how to tell me whatever was in his head.

“I didn’t have a bad childhood,” he said. “When my parents were together, we celebrated Christmas as a family. When my dad left, it was just my mom and me, but it was good then too. The presents weren’t overly expensive, but I never had anything to be ashamed of either.”

I understood exactly what he meant. My family had been the same, even when I lived with Anton. Comfortable, but not excessive. We’d lived such different lives, but some things had still been the same.

“The one thing we never had, though, was a real Christmas tree. My mom’s allergic to them, and even though I understood why we hadn’t been able to get one, I still always wanted one.” He gave me a sideways smile, the kind that let me see what sort of child he’d been. “I guess that’s something all kids feel at one time or another. Sometimes we make up for lost time when we’re adults, but Elise never wanted the mess, and I didn’t see the point of putting one up just for myself.”

My heart squeezed in my chest. “So, we’re here to get you a Christmas tree?”

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “We’re here to get both of us Christmas trees.” Suddenly, he frowned. “You’re not allergic to pine, are you?”

I placed my palm on his beautiful face. “We used to get real trees when I was little. Before my father’s…accident. The first Christmas it was just Anton and me, we tried a real tree, but it brought up too many painful memories. Every time I smelled it, all I could think about was the last Christmas we’d all been together.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know. We can go do something else.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” I hurried to reassure him. “It doesn’t have the same effect on me as it used to. I haven’t gotten one for myself for the same reason you haven’t. It seemed like a lot of work for only me.” I reached over and took his hand. “But now there’s two of us, so we won’t be enjoying them alone.”

Ten minutes later, the two of us were trekking through the snow, our way lit by strings of soft, white Christmas lights. Others were walking their own rows. Families, mostly, but a few couples were here as well. I wondered about them as we walked. How many of them were here for their first tree together? Were any looking for two trees because they weren’t living together? Did they have children at home? Were they newlyweds or had they been together for a long time?

“Did you ever watch A Charlie Brown Christmas growing up?” Jalen’s question pulled me out of my thoughts.

I smiled at the memories. “Every time it was on TV.”

“Me too. When I was eight, right before my dad left, I had a dream that we’d gotten a tiny tree and I’d wrapped it in my blanket. It grew to hundreds of feet, covered in all sorts of decorations.” He paused next to one that was almost as tall as he was. “When I woke up and realized it was all a dream, I cried. My parents got me the exact race car I’d asked for, but I was still disappointed because I didn’t have the tree.”

I laced my fingers between his and squeezed his hand. I had a feeling he hadn’t told that story to many people, if any at all. The fact that he’d told me warmed me in a way that nothing else could.

As we moved on to the next tree, our talk turned to lighter parts of the past. We shared family traditions that ranged from decorations to favorite holiday foods. Whenever we spotted an interesting tree, we’d stop and look it over, touching the needles, examining branches. There were spruces and white pines and all sorts of other kinds to choose from, each with their own appeal.

Occasionally, we bumped into another shopper, and we’d exchange holiday greetings, a few comments here and there. It was nice, being able to have the pleasantries of sharing a holiday experience without the chaos that came with being out in stores.

We’d made it about halfway through when I noticed that something felt…off. It was a familiar sensation, but that didn’t make it any less creepy. I made a show of walking around one of the trees, so I could see who all was around me without looking like that’s what I was doing. No one appeared to be out of place or suspicious, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that a good spy couldn’t hide in plain sight.

But maybe I was paranoid enough to be imagining things. People could be looking over at Jalen and me with the same sort of absent curiosity that we’d had. Someone looking at me didn’t need to be malicious. Considering everything I’d been through over the last two weeks, it would make perfect sense that I was imagining things. More sense, in fact, than someone stalking me.

I wasn’t about to let my imagination ruin the night, so I pushed it to the back of my mind. Even if, by some fluke, something or someone was a danger to me here, I was safe with Jalen.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick up your tree in the morning?” Jalen asked as we pulled up to his house. “Or we could go back and get it after I put this one in the house. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay tonight if you’d rather go home and decorate.”

I put my fingers against his lips, stopping the flow of words. I understood what was driving him to keep talking, because it was in my mind too. Our date had begun as something sweet and simple, a way to celebrate the season together, but somehow, it had become so much deeper. With everything else that had been going on, it all somehow felt more important than it should have.

“The tree will keep for a bit,” I said. “Let’s go inside, get something to drink, then see what time it is before we decide what to do next.”

He nodded, and I could see relief on his face. “Spiced wine?”

I shrugged. “Never had it before, but sure.”

We left his tree strapped to the roof of his car and headed inside where I soon learned that I liked spices, and I liked wine, but I didn’t like the combination of the two. Fortunately, Jalen wasn’t offended when I asked for a glass of just wine. In fact, I thought he looked a little relieved as he poured us each a glass and then settled on the couch next to me.

I leaned against him, and he slid his arm around my shoulders. He’d turned on some music when we first came inside, and it made for nice background sound as we sipped our wine. As much as I’d enjoyed our date, this was nice too. I could relax here with him and not worry about all the things that wanted to crowd into my head.

“I like this,” he said as he set aside his glass. “Being here with you at the end of the day.”

“Me too,” I said.

I turned my face into his chest and breathed in, filling my lungs with the scent of him. The faint smell of laundry detergent under the clean sweat from our long walk. Pine and snow. And him. All of it merged into something that made my belly clench and the space between my legs throb.

He brushed his fingers through my hair. “It’s a couple inches longer than it was when we first met.”

I shifted so that I could look up at him without losing the contact between us. “I used to have it short, but when I left Quantico, I grew it out.”

He studied my face for a moment, and I wondered if he was trying to picture me with short hair. “I think you’d look good with any length hair, but I can’t lie and say I don’t like being able to use it.”

His eyes locked with mine, and he wrapped his fingers in my hair, tighter and tighter until I let out a hiss of pain. I didn’t understand how he knew exactly how far to take me, how much was enough. I didn’t know where the line was, but he’d never crossed it, never made me ask him to back off. Something in his gaze told me he was about to dance close to it, and damn if the thought didn’t make me wet.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice low. “We can finish our wine, bring in my tree, decorate it, and then I can take you home. It will still have been a great night.”

“It will,” I agreed, “but I think we can do better than great.”

Using my hair, he maneuvered me to the floor, positioning me on my knees between his legs. His gaze flicked to the bulge in his jeans, then up to my face, telling me all I needed to know about what the next step should be. My hands shook as I reached for his zipper, but it wasn’t nerves or fear. It was pure anticipation.

I freed his cock, licking my lips as it came into view. Jalen groaned, his grip on my hair tightening. A zing of pleasure went through me, and I leaned down, darting my tongue out to taste the tip.

“Fuck!” Jalen growled, his hips jerking.

The pressure against the back of my head told me what he wanted, but I knew he’d wait for me to let him know it was okay. I nodded and waited for him to guide me again. I rested my hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs as he pushed my head down. The muscles in his legs bunched beneath the denim, reminding me of just how strong this man was, and how good. Even now, taking control like this, he kept his strength in check, careful to never take things to the point where he was truly hurting me.

I opened my mouth only wide enough for the thick shaft to pass between my lips. He stopped me halfway, and I circled his cock with my tongue, tracing every inch I could reach. His breathing quickened, and he yanked on my hair again, making me take him deeper. I almost gagged as he reached the back of my throat, but I managed to relax by reminding myself that he’d stop if it was too much. Little by little, his cock disappeared into my mouth and throat until my nose brushed against the dark curls that surrounded the base.

“Fuck, Rona.” The words came out choked, as if he was the one who could barely breathe.

He pulled me up, his dick falling from my mouth with a wet sound. It bobbed in the air, slick and full, and I wanted nothing more than to climb on his lap and sink down on it. Then again, there was something I wanted more. I wanted to please him, which meant I’d wait until he told me what he wanted of me.

“You’ve got such a hot mouth,” he said, running his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want to come in it. Watch you swallow every drop. I want you to taste me on your tongue when I take you upstairs, lick you until you’re begging for release, and then take your ass.”

Shit. Hearing him talk like that was almost enough to make me come. “Yes, please,” I said, my voice ragged from desire or from taking him into my throat. More likely both.

He put both hands on my head this time, guiding me down until the tip brushed my lips. I opened again, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he raised his hips, driving his cock into my mouth fast enough to make me cough. He hesitated, and I gave him a thumbs up, the only way I could think to let him know that I was okay. He gave me a wicked sort of smile before his hips snapped forward. He kept his eyes on me as he held my head in place, fucking my mouth. Some of the thrusts were deep, and I struggled to keep from pushing him away, but others were shallow, and I used my tongue to give him extra friction.

“I’m going to come,” he warned, the words low and rough. “Swallow it all, and I’ll make you come twice before I take your ass.”

I wrapped my lips tight around him and sucked hard. He cursed, and I let my teeth graze the sensitive skin, giving him what he needed to explode. His cum flooded my mouth, and I swallowed the salty liquid, remembering his promise. I looked up at him and knew that even if he hadn’t made it, I would have done the same just to see that look of bliss on his face.

Jalen was, though, a man of his word.

After a few quiet minutes where he waited for his legs to start working again, he pulled me to my feet and kissed me, a deep and thorough kiss that left no room for doubt about how much he’d enjoyed what I’d done. When we were both breathless, we went upstairs to his room, and he set to work making good on his promise to give me two orgasms.

As I came down from my second toe-curling climax of the night, I became aware that Jalen had left the bed and was rummaging around in a drawer. It was only then that I remembered the second part of what he’d said, what would come after my orgasms.

“Bend your knees and hold your legs open,” he instructed as he came back over to the bed.

I did as he said, flushing at how the position exposed me. It wasn’t embarrassment, really, but rather a feeling that I should be embarrassed, that I shouldn’t want him to do this. I wasn’t a prude, and I didn’t have any moral objections to anal sex. It was the trust that went with it. The trust that he would make me feel good. That this wasn’t a form of humiliation but rather of intimacy.

“If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will,” he promised as he knelt on the bed. “This will be a bit cold.”

“Oh!” I yelped as he slicked something cool and wet against my anus.

“It’ll warm up in a minute.”

My eyelids fluttered as he pressed the tip of his finger against the ring of muscle and pushed. The familiar burn made me squirm, but Jalen didn’t stop. He moved his finger in and out, twisting it until I became used to the sensation. I moaned as he added a second finger, turning burn into pain. A bearable pain that I knew would eventually bring me pleasure. He repeated the same twisting strokes, spreading his fingers on every other thrust.

“You can let go now,” he said when he finally removed his fingers.

My legs dropped to either side, muscles quivering. He was hard again, and as I watched, he coated his cock with the same liquid he’d used on my ass. He leaned over me and took a nipple between his lips. He sucked on it with long, steady pulls that sent bright bursts of light across my nerves.

I ran my hands up his arms, tracing each muscle as I went. I felt the strength in them, the power, and marveled at the man above me. My palms skimmed across his broad shoulders and up his neck until I buried my fingers in his hair, held his head to my breast. A hand moved between my legs, thumb stroking my clit until I’d almost forgotten what he’d been preparing me for.

Then he raised his head, his heated gaze on my face, and I remembered. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my ass, and I tensed.

“Relax,” he said softly. “Just look at me and relax.”

As contradictory as it seemed, I forced myself to simply let go, then groaned as my body yielded to him as his cock pushed inside. I curled my fingers, my nails biting into his shoulder even as he went deeper. The sounds the fell from my lips were little more than noise, mewls, and gasps that joined the curses Jalen gave with each inch he moved forward.

He sank the last bit and held there, his body shaking against mine. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clinging to his body even as mine struggled to decide what it wanted. I’d never been so full, so overwhelmed with all the sensations my brain was trying to process. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take, but I didn’t ask him to stop. I wanted everything he could give me, even if I couldn’t bear it.

I cried out as he rocked against me, even that slight movement sending another burst of pain and pleasure through me.

He stilled immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No. Please, J. Keep going.”

I rolled my hips, gasping as I moved. And then he was moving too, our bodies gradually coming together at first, then with more purpose as we adjusted to the new way we fit together. His mouth came down on mine, teeth harsh and bruising against my lips. I would be sore tomorrow, but all I wanted him to do was hold me tighter, fuck me harder, be rougher. I wanted him to mark me indelibly, make me his.

Because I was his.

I’d told him before that I loved him, and that had been as true then as it was now, but this was beyond love. It was the need to belong. Not to a place or to a family, but to him. To belong to him and him to me.

The thoughts came with startling clarity, exploding into my mind even as I came. I didn’t know what it meant, but I’d think about it later. Right now, I was too full of everything else that was him, and something had to give. So I gave myself.

Completely and totally, holding nothing back.