Nancy stood on her tiptoes, biting her lower lip as she reached for the red bow topping the tree. She bounced up a few times, urging it with a few quick brushes to move to a slightly better angle.
She heard a chuckle behind her, and then felt Ned's presence as he easily reached up to move the bow. "Left or right?"
"Left," she replied, and once he had tweaked it properly, she pursed her lips, regarding it. Then she nodded twice. "Yep. Great."
Nancy and Ned had spent the better part of the day setting up the Fox Lake cabin as a Christmas getaway. Ned's parents had decided to spend their December weekends there, along with Christmas Eve and the actual day. As part of their gift to his parents, Nancy had suggested that they handle the heavy lifting, and that meant untangling miles of stringed lights, setting up the tree, restocking the firewood, making sure the kitchen was supplied with plenty of hot chocolate and apple cider supplies. From previous visits Nancy had remembered the poinsettia spreads for all the beds, the apple cinnamon scented candles, the pinecone centerpieces. She knew Edith would likely put her own last touches on everything, but at least this way she wouldn't have so much to do before she could relax and enjoy the cabin.
"All right. Pizza, s'mores, and cuddling?"
Nancy grinned. "Sounds perfect."
He handled placing the delivery order—only one place delivered so far out, but at least their food was pretty good—as Nancy went up to the bedroom they had claimed. She smoothed a wrinkle out of the spread even as she chastised herself. She and Ned would be sleeping in this bed, and laundering the sheets before they left; Edith wouldn't be seeing it anytime soon.
But Nancy and Ned had stayed here with his parents before, and their presence still seemed to linger. It wasn't that she thought they had set up cameras or anything, so much as... well, as Nancy saw the decorative touches that had always reminded her of Ned's mother.
Setting up the house had been dusty, sweaty work, too. Nancy wrinkled her nose, then dug through her duffel bag for some clean underwear and headed to the bathroom. Ned's mother was the kind of person who bought into refreshing everything; even the body wash she had set aside for winter at the cabin promised to leave Nancy smelling like frosted cranberry bliss.
After vigorously towel-drying her hair, leaving it in damp waves, Nancy left Ned to his own shower and padded around the cabin in stocking feet, fleece pants and a henley top. She found all the s'mores ingredients, skewers for the oversized marshmallows, a stack of napkins given how ridiculously sticky everything would be. Ned had placed the kindling for the fire but hadn't lit it; Nancy touched a match to a strip of gray newspaper and watched the tongue of orange flame sprint up the edge, dashing toward the pile of wood. When it caught, Nancy's shoulders slumped slightly, and she smiled.
They had been here a year ago, close to their six-month anniversary. It was before Ned had known, but before he had suspected, too. She had found so much about staying here very romantic: the secluded setting, the coziness, the reminders of their relationship before they had been married and before she had become aware of her difference. When she looked back on it now... well. She had left all the pain behind, as much as she was able, and this was another chance to make new memories.
The pizza was delicious. The s'mores were a sticky, gooey, wonderful mess, and Nancy and Ned were licking melted chocolate and marshmallow off their fingers and laughing together, lounging on a blanket in front of the fireplace. Nancy glanced over at Ned and their gazes caught, and she was struck all over again by the love in his eyes. Ned had always been able to take her breath away. That had never changed. And while she had never doubted his love for her, she had doubted her ability to keep it.
"Hey," she murmured, her chuckles trailing away, her cheeks still flushed from laughter.
"Hey," he replied, reaching for her. His thumb slid down her forearm and the edge of her hand. "God, you're so beautiful."
She smiled. "I love the way you look in firelight," she admitted. "You always look good, but right now..."
He grinned. "Exactly," he replied. "Let me clean up so I don't leave you covered in marshmallow and chocolate, and we can watch a movie or something?"
Watching a movie didn't always mean anything would happen, but more often than not, something did. Nancy smiled and washed her own hands, checking out her reflection and wiping away a few smears of chocolate near her mouth that she and Ned hadn't caught. Then she turned to her overnight bag.
She had brought her favorite nightie, the short white one that she had worn on her wedding night, but she had also brought flannel pajamas. The cabin was cold at night, but that was fine; Ned kept her so warm, and even if he didn't, all the bedrooms had fireplaces. Nancy knew she would end up sleeping in a t-shirt, but before that...
Her heart skipped a beat as she reached for the white nightie.
Wearing the gown around her husband was letting him know she was available, if he wanted her to be—and she could count on one hand the number of times he hadn't been instantly willing. Just imagining the way he would look at her, the tenderness and love in his eyes, that was enough to make her glow with sweet anticipation.
Wrapped in a thick flannel robe, Nancy walked back into the main room to find her husband adding another log to the fire. The television was off, silent, and the fire filled the room with a warm glow against the cold darkness. She paused to cast another admiring glance at their handiwork, the tree trimmed with white lights and red ribbon, gold and silver ornaments, as perfect as they could make it.
"So what did you..." Ned trailed off as Nancy deliberately untied the sash of her robe and let it part a few inches. "Oh, sweetheart. Should we even bother with the movie?"
Nancy shrugged and smiled. She was tired, and after her husband made love to her, he would likely carry her to bed and wrap her snugly in his arms, sated and pleased. That thought gave her a shiver of pleasure. "I don't know," she replied softly. "All I know is that ever since last year, I've thought of us together in this firelight, and it just seemed..."
"Right," Ned filled in when she trailed off. "It does seem right."
She brought her chin up as Ned approached her, and he slid his arm around her waist as he drew her to him for a long, deep kiss. She wrapped her arms around him, threading her fingers through his hair, combing through it. It had been trimmed recently, and she loved the soft feel of it against her skin.
Nancy felt loose-limbed and swayed gently when Ned released her, leaving her just long enough to grab a tartan blanket they had left on the couch. She blushed as she watched him spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace. Ned glanced up at her from his knees, and his lips curved up.
"We won't do anything you don't want."
She nodded slowly. His reassurance was familiar, but she still appreciated it. It had been a long time since anything had happened that she had been uncomfortable with, but a part of her still remembered it so vividly, the feeling that she wasn't enough. She stepped onto the blanket and cupped Ned's cheek, and he nuzzled against her hand. He didn't reach for her; he left it to her to decide.
She swallowed and dropped her robe onto the floor.
They would reach a point, they always did, where she was focused solely on Ned's pleasure, but Ned moved her gently onto her back and gazed down at her with such love and tenderness that Nancy smiled as her eyes pricked with tears. "I love you," she whispered.
He nodded. "I love you so much," he murmured. "Every day with you is a gift and I love, I love every part of you. I am so incredibly lucky to be your husband."
She reached up to caress his cheek. "I'm so lucky to be with you," she said softly. "I love you so much. Every day I'm grateful that you chose me. That every day you choose me again."
He smiled. "You're my heart," he said. "I will always choose my heart. My precious, beautiful wife."
They kissed and kissed, over and over, long and lingering and soft, so sweet that Nancy relaxed. This was so familiar, and she caressed him, stroking her palm over his back, feeling his shoulder blades under her palm. He waited for her lead; she slowly brought her knees up and he moved over her, his hips resting between her parted thighs.
There was just something about it. Cinnamon and pine and firewood, soap and aftershave, and the soft lights, knowing how cold the world was around them and knowing she was lucky enough to be at the warm center of it all with the man she loved. Slowly she lost her self-consciousness and just let herself enjoy being with him.
Then she closed her eyes and, releasing a slow breath, drew his hand down to the band of her panties.
He stripped them off, gently, without drawing it out. Then he pulled her gown up over her head, and for a moment he gazed down at her. "You were right," he murmured. "There's never quite been anything like this. You look so gorgeous."
She smiled. "So do you," she murmured.
He took his clothes off too, and she had to make herself relax as he returned to her. Nothing bad or upsetting was going to happen. This didn't hurt and hadn't been uncomfortable for a long time.
"Oh, Nan," he whispered, lowering himself to her. "Oh, sweetheart."
She shivered as she stroked his back. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you," he replied, his lips finding her neck. He trailed slow, sweet kisses down to her breasts, and she closed her eyes as he nuzzled against her, moving slowly and gently, keeping himself in such control. She moaned softly, turning her head.
"Yes?" he breathed against her breast.
"Yes," she whispered.
He told her how beautiful she was as he nuzzled and kissed his way down, as his lips brushed over her inner thighs. He parted her, and then his tongue swiped over her clit.
Nancy drew a sharp breath, turning her head. "Ned," she moaned.
"My love," he breathed. Then he did it again.
Slowly she had become okay with this; once she had known for sure that he wouldn't try to turn it into something else, it had become easier. She knew that she could never have experienced it with anyone else, that she trusted only her husband this much, but every time, it still seemed to shatter the world around her. As she reached her climax, she sobbed, her skin flushed, her heart pounding. "Now," she whimpered. "Please, baby, now."
She was still trembling a little when he moved into place and slid inside her. She wrapped herself around him, clinging to him as he joined to her, the full length of him sheathed between her thighs. He moved in her with slow, even thrusts, and she could feel him panting, trembling with the power of it. Her frantic, overwhelming orgasm passed and she focused on him, brushing kisses against his skin, whispering how much she loved him and needed him.
And then he groaned, and she smiled as she held him tight. This was everything, their closeness, the warmth of him and this. Knowing and feeling how much he desired her.
He pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead before he rolled them onto their sides. He gazed into her face, brushing a stray lock of hair away.
"So beautiful," he whispered. "Oh, this is perfect."
She stroked his cheek, gazing into his eyes. "You are," she whispered. "You make everything possible. And I would be so lost without you."
He kissed her then, slow and lingering, and she stroked his hair as she returned it, soft and limber and relaxed. After a moment she sighed as they parted, as he tugged a corner of the blanket up and over them. She nestled against him, safe and warm in his arms.
"I love you," she whispered against his chest, as she drifted away.
"I love you," he whispered, pulling her a little closer, nuzzling against her hair. "Always."