The snow had started again by the time they had eaten dinner at the Plough, a small pub known for its simple homemade pub food. Zack drove up the drive to the hotel, grateful for his car and the fact that his dad had made sure he could drive in icy conditions as soon as he passed his test. They’d passed two cars that had been abandoned on the way up from dinner and he was pretty sure there would be more by morning, people attending the lights switch on and then getting snowed in.

He pulled up in what was becoming his usual space at the hotel and turned off the engine, unsure as to whether Sorrell would want him to come in or not.

“Thank you,” he said, “for a really good evening.”

He saw her shy smile through the glint of lights from the hotel. “It needs to be me thanking you. If you hadn’t suggested going, I’d have been here all evening. It was amazing. I can see why you returned home after university.”

“Hey,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. The car was cooling rapidly. “I’m even more glad I moved home now. And had the stupid idea of having a new purpose-built place for Sunrise,” he said.

She initiated the kiss and this time he felt as if she really believed his words, that he was genuine about her, as she held his face between her palms and took the lead.

He let her for all of about ten seconds, need driving him to almost pull her over the central console in order to touch more of her, something that was difficult through the layers of clothing. And then he demanded of her, his mouth searching, hands asking, palms cupping her breasts under her jacket, over her jumper. He felt her nipples harden and he groaned, needing more. So much more.

“You want to stay?” she said. “I’d like you to stay.”

He kissed her again. God, she had no fucking idea how much he wanted to stay. “I want to stay. Can’t promise you’re going to get much sleep though.”

“You’re up early though, and you didn’t sleep much last night…”

He pushed his hands up her jumper, over her bra and lightly pinched her nipples, hearing her sharp intake of breath as he did. “Ells, if I get to spend the night inside you, I’m not going to give two shits about any lack of sleep. We should probably go in before we get frozen in the car.” Reluctantly he moved his hands down, straightening her clothes to keep her warm.

“I need to check on the hotel, so let’s walk through it to my place,” she said. Her hands grazed over his crotch and he winced; he was so hard he was hurting. He needed to be inside her, to feel her around him, clamping down on him when she came.

“Sure. I just hope we don’t see any of your guests,” he said.

She gave his cock a squeeze through his jeans and he saw the need in her eyes. “They’ll just think I’m about to get lucky. I can see the Christmas tree lights through the window.”

He spotted them too as he got out of the car and went round to the other side to get to Sorrell. “We should turn them off before we go to bed,” he said. “Maybe get a timer for them tomorrow. I might have one at Sunrise actually.”

She giggled, taking his hand. “You always fix things, don’t you? You’re such a man.”

“Hey,” he said, stopping and pulling her to him, close into his chest so he could wrap his arms around her. Snow fell about them, dancing down like a show of synchronized shiny dancers. “Are you complaining about me being a man?” He pressed up against her, wondering if she could feel his erection through the layers of clothes.

Her squirm suggested she could. “Let’s go in and you can show me more about fixing things. I might have a problem I need you to solve.”

“Anytime,” he said.

The hotel was silent, the desk at reception perfectly tidy. The automatic lights on the corridors were off, suggesting that most people had either gone to bed or were still out. She opened the door to the lounge quietly and beckoned him in.

The fire was still burning, keeping the large room warm along with the radiators that were piping out heat. Crackles from the burning log fractured the quiet, the sound hypnotising.

Sorrell closed the door behind them and put on the lock at the top. “I just want a few minutes in this room with you without being disturbed,” she said.

“Just a few minutes?” Zack unzipped his coat, the warmth defrosting him quickly.

“To see the tree without guests here. It looks amazing,” she said, staring at it.

He wondered if it was possible to be jealous of a Christmas tree.

“You did a really good job,” he told her because she had. She’d also had about sixty million pictures of white and gold Christmas trees saved to her phone and would have made a very good teacher, given how precise her directions had been about where to hang different ornaments.

“We did a really good job,” she said. She turned around to face him, her coat undone, gloves stuffed in the pockets. She pulled off the scarf and his eyes became fixed on her every movement.

Her dark red hair contrasted with the white of the sweater that she wore, hanging off one shoulder and exposing creamy skin.

“You look like you want to devour me,” said Sorrell.

“Fuck.” He was unable to come out with anything more, no matter how many qualifications he had. “You’re just stunning.”

Her laugh was pleased, as if she finally didn’t doubt his words. She moved towards him, her attention finally off the damn Christmas tree. “So are you.” Her words were quiet and far more controlled than his had been. Then she started to undo his shirt and he froze, knowing as soon as he touched her they wouldn’t be moving to any other room.

Her hands moved to his shoulders and pushed his now open shirt down, soft fingers trailing down his biceps. The shirt fell to the floor, leaving him in just a tight white vest which she then proceeded to pull out of his jeans, her hands grazing his stomach, over his abs and over his chest, pulling the garment off and leaving him bare from the waist up.

“There’s a disparity here,” he said, moving her hands off him and stripping the soft white jumper from her. “You have more clothes on than me and it’s warm in here. We should cool you down.”

“How do you plan to do that?” she said, eyes full of lust, mirroring what was in his own.

He could tell the flirtatious words were unfamiliar to her and that she was offering him more than her body right now; it was her trust as well.

Using one hand he reached behind her and snapped her bra open. It was strapless and fell from her, leaving her breasts exposed to him, her nipples puckered. Instead of paying them the attention he was desperate to give, he pulled her into him so their skin was touching, her breasts against his chest and kissed her. She pushed closer to him, needful, and his hand moved onto her ass, making sure she could feel his hardness through what was left of their clothes. He wanted her to feel his need, his desire, to stop thinking that she wasn’t worthy and that she deserved everything one lucky man could give. As long as that man was him.

When he ended the kiss, he dropped to his knees, encouraging her to go with him onto the thick white rug that covered the dark wooden floor in front of the fireplace. He laid her back and then his hands grasped her breasts and he started to explore them with his mouth, taking one and moving his tongue round the nipple in easy circles, using his hand to do the same with his fingers to the other. She murmured something unintelligible, but her actions, the way she moved him, weren’t. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Her hands were gripping his shoulders and biceps, fingernails digging into muscle. When he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, she whimpered, her hips bucking. He bit gently, a tiny nip of pain and this time her moan was louder.

“Shhhh,” he murmured, leaning over her, his hands undoing her jeans.

Sorrell’s hands went to his, feeling his length through the denim and pushing at his cock. Thankfully, the night before had got some of his pent up need for her out of his system so he felt like there was less chance of being a disappointment even if she kept that up.

“Undo them,” she said.

“Whose?”

“Both. I hope no one tries to come in. They’d wonder what sort of place they’re staying at,” she said quietly, lifting her hips to help him pull down her jeans and panties, leaving her bare. He sat back and undid the zips of her boots, pulling them off and then the remainder of her clothes.

He looked his fill. She lay on the rug, silky red hair splayed across the cream material, her eyes heavy with desire. Full breasts with their pink, sweet nipples moved with her breath. His eyes wandered down her curves to between her legs which she’d left open, confident now that he would like what he saw.

She was wet already, which meant he’d done his job properly so far. The trimmed hair between her legs was damp with her arousal and the head of her clit was visible.

“I want you in me,” she said, lazy with lust. “I don’t want to come first. I just want you in me.”

He laughed quietly, undoing his belt and his fly, pushing down his jeans and his underwear. Her eyes went to his cock and her lips parted. He wondered if he’d ever seen anything as hot as she was now, lying there, waiting for him, an unwrapped Christmas present.

Shucking off his jeans and shoes as quickly as he could was a difficult task when most of the blood from his brain was elsewhere. He managed it, moving back to Sorrell and her soft skin, immediately putting his mouth on a nipple and sucking hard.

Her legs parted wider and came round his waist, trying to angle her opening to meet his cock. She was needy, needy for him and it made him want to beat his chest and shout from the world that he’d laid claim to this woman and she had him.

“Hurry up,” she demanded.

He reached between them and took hold of his dick, moving it between her folds and over her clit. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes! Stop teasing!”

He moved his cock against her clit, wetting the head and making her moan. Her nails were embedded in his back and he was pretty sure she was drawing blood.

Her hips rocked against him, seeking the release. Red flushed her cheeks, her tits pushed together by her arms, as if she was offering her nipples for him. Strong thighs kept him close to her and he realised from her breathing that she was close, so close to coming.

He moved his cock from her clit to her entrance, feeling the tightness as he breached, hearing her cry as he pushed in smoothly but quickly, in all the way, so deep, that he rubbed against her clit and felt her muscles clench around his cock as she came.

Zack covered her mouth with his, kissing the calls of her orgasm, keeping his hips still while she regained enough clarity to feel his thrusts because he was going to make her come again.

“Tell me what you like,” he said, once her eyes opened.

Her hands left his back and pushed her breasts up to him. He bent his head and took a nipple in his mouth, letting her feed it too him, slowly thrusting his cock inside her, nudging the sweet spot that he knew she was responsive to.

When he looked back up he saw her watching him, her mouth open, eyes drowsy. “You have the best tits I’ve ever sucked,” he said, feeling her pussy tighten at his words. “And the tightest cunt I’ve ever been in. Do you want me to fuck it properly?” He watched her response, wondering if he was saying too much. She was no virgin but neither did he think she was that experienced. For all that he wanted to look after her like she was gold, he also wanted to hear how she made him feel. He loved sex and he’d never gone long without it, although unlike Jake, he’d not discarded every girl after just one meal. The longer you knew someone, the better the sex could be, in his experience.

“Yes,” she said. “I want you to make me come again. I want to feel you come in me like last night.”

He took her leg and moved it from his waist so her ankle was on his shoulder, watching her to check it wasn’t uncomfortable. He’d be able to go deeper and take her to her release quicker.

Sorrell gasped as he started to move, slowly and deeply; he couldn’t lose control because he’d hurt her. Her tits bounced with each movement, her cries becoming louder but this time he didn’t think about the guests because he was too lost in her, in her tightness and her heat.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, her grasp on his shoulders loosening as her orgasm ruined her for anything else. He kept up his rhythm, watching her face, memorizing it and then he went under himself, clutching her hips hard enough to leave marks for tomorrow as he emptied inside her.

The fire crackled, a fierce flame feasting on a log. He became aware that she was reaching for his vest and pulling it under her even though their bodies were still joined.

“The rug,” she said. “Need to keep it clean.”

He smothered a laugh. “Two orgasms and I still can’t stop her mind from being practical.” He released some weight off her so she could slide his vest under her hips.

“I think you almost fried every brain cell,” she said. “Almost.”

“That means I’ll have to do better next time.” He kissed her forehead and then her nose. “You okay?”

She nodded, leaning up to kiss him back. “You talk dirty. I liked it. I didn’t think I would.”

He put on a terrible Texan accent. “We farm boys have dirty mouths. I like to say what I feel.”

“You like to be bossy in bed too,” she said.

He rested his head on the rug above her shoulder and bit into her skin. “I do. But not everyone likes that. And I can work with other scenarios.”

“I think I like you being bossy. Not that I’m going to call you sir any time soon,” she said.

He slid out of her, moving a hand between her legs so he could use his vest to catch the spill. He held her there, through the material, feeling her heat. “Did I hurt you? I went deep.”

She shook her head. “No. It felt good. All of it. Shall we head over to the cottage and maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe you can fuck me again?”