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I knew this would happen eventually.
This village is not enough.
After a thoughtful pause, I offer, “Do we need to discuss moving to the city?”
It pains me to say it, but this is marriage. Isn’t it? We compromise.
Jakob looks as me as if I suggested moving to Mars. “Hell no. You love it here, and so do I.”
“But you just said, out of nowhere, that you miss your studio. And I’m glad you brought it up, because I worry that you’re not focusing on your art.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Jakob says, sipping his tea and shaking his head.
“Yes, you should have,” I say, leaning forward. “I’m glad you did. I’m so happy that you love my little village and you enjoy helping people. But you also need to feed that part of you that wants to create.”
“Jo. We’re not moving back to the city, and that’s that.”
His firmness tweaks at my senses, and before long, I find myself climbing onto his lap.
“What are you doing, princess?” Jakob laughs as I press soft, slow kisses against his throat.
“Getting an idea,” I say.
My sex lights up like a Christmas tree when he sweeps his big, warm hands under the hem of my shirt, warming the skin of my back. He hitches me closer, bracketing my legs around his middle, making sure I can feel his hardness pressing against my core. I love the way he takes control.
“What sort of ideas are running through your head, wife?”
“It’s too close to Christmas for me to tell you that,” I tease.
His hands travel downward now, pushing past the waistband of my leggings and panties. His thick fingertips sweep over the cleft of my ass. I let out a little moan and move my hips, grinding on him, letting him know I love what he’s about to do.
On a groan, he pushes one finger inside. It feels so new and strange, but oh…so good.
“What do you want for Christmas, love?”
I gasp sharply as he sinks that finger in deeper, then say, “You mean, besides having you fuck me while you do that?”
In a flurry of desperation, my leggings and underwear are hiked down and my husband’s thick cock is in my greedy hands.
“Wife,” he grits out as I impale myself on him, my pussy swallowing him down to the hilt as he strokes his fingers in and out of my tightest hole. “My wife. Now tell me what you really want for Christmas. Anything.”
I’m so happily full of him right now I could break down, and yet my head is pinging with ideas — mostly ideas for what I plan to do for Jakob.
“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” I finally say amid the mind-blowing sensation of his fingers stroking in tandem with my rhythm on his cock.
“Done.”
Christmas day comes, and Jakob has somehow managed to surprise me with a king size bed.
He sent Sabine and me away to a bed and breakfast on Christmas Eve for “peace, quiet, and pampering,” as he put it. As if our life together isn’t already pleasantly peaceful, but I have to admit I enjoyed some one-on-one time with my friend.
Obviously, the overnight stay was a ruse to get me out of the house to have the bed delivered.
This shouldn’t surprise me though, should it? Jakob has become rather a fixture around the village, and people are quite fond of him. One of the locals let him use their wood shop and tools to build the bed and keep it a secret. The only surprise is that he built himself.
“But where did you get the lumber? The nearest lumberyard is twenty miles away,” I ask, incredulous when he leads me into the bedroom for my surprise on Christmas morning when I arrive home, freshly manicured, pedicured, exfoliated, and massaged.
“It’s all fallen wood, gathered within a mile from here.” Jakob says this as if it isn’t the most work anyone has ever put into a gift for me, ever.
