Snow Kissed

by Jessica Clare

  “Yeah, but only because both Daddy and Maria came after us and split us up!” Bridget argued. “You took the flag from Meggie—it’s not like she put up much of a fight!”

  Maria hid her smile as she took another sip of the rich hot chocolate. The children had been squabbling good-naturedly since the end of the game. She still remembered the looks of surprised delight on the twins’ and Meggie’s faces when they realized who had come out to join their fun. She looked over at Gabriel, who was helping Meggie fish the marshmallows out from her hot chocolate so she could eat them first. “Because,” she’d announced seriously, looking at her father with her big blue eyes, “they taste better that way.”

  Gabriel’s hair gleamed wetly in the soft rays of the sun, snow still melting in his hair, a victim of being pelted with snowballs from all of his children as they ganged up on him. Gabriel had laughingly finally called for mercy and surrendered when even little Meggie had managed a hit or two, and then all the kids had toppled him into the snow, climbing on top of him, shrieking with laughter.

  He looked up at that moment and met Maria’s gaze, and Maria’s breath caught in her throat at the warm, happy expression in his eyes. He looked relaxed, content and so much younger than he usually did, the lines softened on his face. His happiness seemed to encompass her and Maria felt her heart swell at being included in this family so quickly.

  Slowly, the warmth in his eyes started to heat as he continued to stare at her, his eyes dropping to her mouth. Maria unconsciously licked her lips, tasting a bit of chocolate, cinnamon and whipped cream at the corner of her mouth and nearly dropped her mug as the heat in his eyes suddenly flared into an inferno.

  She quickly put the mug down on the table and looked down, breaking contact with his eyes. She could feel hot color in her cheeks, but the blush was nothing compared to the molten need now throbbing between her legs. Her mind scrambled for something to take her mind off of the desire burning within her.

  “So children, why don’t we make a snowman after lunch? Maybe we can even convince your father to volunteer some of his clothing for the snowman.”

  As the children cheered the idea, Gabriel grinned at Maria, a wicked glint in his eyes. “I have no issues with parting with my clothing if the right person asks,” he drawled and laughed when Maria’s face turned even redder.

  THE SNOWMAN, IT WAS UNANIMOUSLY agreed, was the best snowman in the existence of snowmen.

  With their father’s help and Matt calling out hilarious, occasionally snarky suggestions from the sidelines, the snowman was huge, nearly Gabriel’s height. Mrs. Smith had found big black buttons for his eyes and Mrs. Phillips had given them a carrot for his nose. Even Williams had contributed a pipe. Elizabeth and Sam found branches for his arms. At Maria’s urging, Meggie had asked her father for a hat and a tie, and Gabriel had searched his wardrobe until he came up with an old cap and a red tie, which he brandished with triumph.

  He lifted Meggie up and she carefully placed the cap on top of the snowman, and Bridget insisted to be the one to put the tie on, so he showed her how to properly knot the tie around the snowman’s “neck,” his reward her delighted smile.

  At last the snowman was finished, and they all stepped back to properly admire their creation. Maria glanced around, happiness bubbling inside her at the joyful expressions on the children’s faces. Gabriel had that same warm, tender and peaceful look as before as he looked at the beaming smiles on his children.

  Meggie was standing next to him, her little mittened hand clutching his, her body and head leaning trustingly against his leg. The poor dear looked exhausted and Maria carefully nudged Gabriel, gesturing to Meggie quietly. He nodded quickly and bent, scooping her up easily in his arms.

  “Daddy?” she said in a tired voice, yawning widely.

  “I think someone is ready for a little rest before dinner. How about if we all go in and rest up?”

  At the chorus of groans, he added, “I’m going to start a fire in the fireplace in the great room and I bet I can convince Mrs. Phillips to give us the fixings for s’mores and more hot chocolate, as long as you all don’t spoil your appetites for dinner.”

  “Yes! S’mores, awesome! Last one in is a rotten egg,” Sam yelled and then took off, running as fast as his short legs and the snow drifts would allow.

  “Sam! You cheated!” and “No fair!” were his sisters’ responses as they took off after him.

  Gabriel chuckled as he and Maria started walking back to the house. “I can always count on Sam to think with his stomach,” he said fondly.

  Maria laughed. “Yes, I’ve noticed that about him too. I better go on ahead and warn Mrs. Phillips not to give you the evil eye that you suggested s’mores before dinner.”

  Gabriel was unrepentant. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

  His hand reached out and caught hers as she started to quicken her pace. “Wait.”

  As Maria looked back at him questioningly, Gabriel hesitated, glancing at Meggie in his arms, drowsy but awake, and said, “Thank you. Just…thank you.”

  Maria smiled at him, feeling her heart expand in her chest. She gave his hand a soft squeeze and said simply, “You’re welcome.”

  THEIR APPETITES WEREN'T QUITE RUINED for the roast chicken dinner, but it was clear the children were exhausted from their active snow-filled day. They didn’t speak much at dinner, but it was a different kind of quiet than the previous night, which had been filled with the tension of things unsaid. This time, contentment, punctuated with the occasional smothered yawn, filled the air.

  Matt, Maria and Gabriel spent much of the dinner suppressing smiles and outright laughter as it became obvious that someone would soon fall asleep at the table. When even Sam started to nod off in the middle of his trifle, Gabriel threw aside his napkin and announced, “All right, it’s off to bed for the lot of you. Let’s go upstairs now.”

  There was a token protest from Elizabeth—as the eldest, she was used to staying up later than her siblings—but it was clear that even she was eager for her bed tonight.

  Meggie held out her arms for Gabriel to carry her and he obliged her, gathering her into his arms, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as he carried her out of dining room.

  As everyone bathed and changed into night clothes, Maria gave Meggie a quick bath.

  “Miss Maria?” Meggie asked suddenly.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Will you read me a story tonight?”

  “Of course, but only one story since you need to sleep, all right?”

  “Okay. Will Daddy read me a story too?” Meggie asked in a hopeful voice.

  “I bet he will if you ask. Let’s get you all ready for bed first, okay?”

  Maria had no doubt that Gabriel would read to her—she thought that he’d read all night, if his children asked him to. She wondered again what went wrong when it was plain as day that Gabriel adored his children and they clearly adored him back.

  Her belief in their love for each other was reinforced when upon hearing that Gabriel would be reading a story to Meggie, the older kids all demanded to hear the story too, a fragile hope shining on their faces. So they all crowded onto Meggie’s bed as Gabriel read one of the fairytales that Meggie liked, staring at their father with their heart in their eyes.

  Maria felt herself tear up at the sight, and quietly closed the door, wanting the family to have their own private moment. She walked slowly downstairs and found herself in the main hall again. Spotting double doors off the hall with one door slightly ajar, she impulsively decided to explore.

  She opened the door and gasped—she felt as if she’d wandered into a previous century.

  It was a ballroom, and the most glorious, beautiful room she’d ever seen. The room was decorated in the Rococo style, the walls made up of panels of gilt-edged mirrors and exquisite, delicate paintings. Two huge crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, which was painted using the trompe l’eoil technique with mischievous cherubs looking
down from among the clouds. The beautiful oak floors had been polished to a high sheen and Maria could practically see her reflection on it. There were French doors at the far end which she was sure must open onto gardens or a terrace. A gleaming grand piano sat in one corner of the room. She could almost hear the strains of a waltz lilting from the piano, the keys dancing under Gabriel’s talented fingers.

  Maria glided around, humming lightly as she imagined the room filled with beautifully dressed dancers. She whirled to face the entrance when an amused voice suddenly said, “May I have this dance?”

  It was Matt, leaning against the doorway as he watched her, his arms crossed over his chest.

  Maria grinned sheepishly, embarrassed for being caught daydreaming. “I’m sorry, this room is just so gorgeous, I couldn’t help myself.”

  Matt chuckled and strode into the room, looking around. “Not at all, I think everyone has that reaction when they first see the ballroom. I mean, it’s an honest-to-goodness ballroom, imported from England. It’s been years since this room has been used—the last time was a masquerade ball that was a fundraiser for the school the kids attend, before Elle, Gabriel’s wife, passed.”

  Beset by undeniable curiosity about Elle, Maria couldn’t help asking, “What was Elle like? I assume that Sam, Bridget and Meggie take after her, in coloring at least.”

  Matt nodded. “You’re right, they do look like Elle but I actually think Lizzie has her smile. She was a beautiful woman, in every way. She and Gabriel were devoted to each other, and he was understandably devastated when she was killed.”

  “It was a car accident?”

  “Yes, a drunk driver, on very slick roads. I’d been working for Gabriel three years by then and I’ll never forget the day the police called to tell him.” He shook his head sadly, and then in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood, he said, “I can still see all the guests dressed up like extras in some chick flick period movie starring Keira Knightley. Like Anna Karenina or something.”

  “I was thinking more like Pride and Prejudice, but yes, same idea,” Maria said with a laugh.

  “Well then, milady, may I have this waltz?” Matt asked in an exaggerated English accent, giving her quite an elegant bow.

  Maria giggled as he waggled his brows comically. She dipped a quick curtsey in return. “Why, kind sir, you honor me with your request, but I’m afraid that as there’s no music, I will definitely step on your toes without someone keeping time.”

  “Well I’ll risk my toes if you’re willing,” Matt declared, holding out his hand. “I’ve always wanted to re-enact the dancing scene in The King and I. Forget the waltz, let’s polka!”

  With that he swept Maria around in an energetic polka, humming a slightly off-key “Shall We Dance?” and Maria couldn’t help but laugh at Matt’s boyish enthusiasm and silliness even as she hummed along.

  Suddenly the door to the ballroom slammed wide open and a furious voice growled, “What the hell is going on here?”

  FIVE

  GABRIEL COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES. Matt was holding Maria in his arms, and he wanted to take Matt apart.

  He’d heard Maria laughing gaily and the sounds of humming as he walked down the stairs, and following the sounds, he discovered that it was coming from the ballroom. He then heard a masculine voice and realizing that Maria wasn’t alone, he quickly strode towards the room, a frown knitting his forehead. Who could she be talking to? Was it Matt?

  The frown deepened to a scowl when he got to the door and realized that Maria and Matt were whirling around the floor, dancing together. Sheer male possessiveness roared through him and he had to stop himself from ripping Maria out of Matt’s arms, and then ripping Matt’s arms off.

  Matt must have sensed how close he was to the edge because he hastily dropped his arms and backed away from Maria. “Sorry, Gabriel, we were just being silly. Maria was kind enough to indulge me and help fulfill one of my fantasies.”

  At the black look from Gabriel, Matt nervously clarified, “Childhood fantasies! I’ve always wanted to dance the polka from The King and I.” More quietly, he added, “You know I bat for the other team.”

  Gabriel knew very well that Matt was gay and that he was being unreasonable. He also knew he would owe Matt an apology later, but the jealous rage that filled him at the sight of Maria in another man’s arms wasn’t something he had a lot of experience with.

  Not trusting himself to not snarl at Matt again if he opened his mouth, he gave a curt nod to signal his understanding. Matt released an obvious sigh of relief, then glanced at his watch and gave an exaggerated gasp. “Oh my, look at the time! I should be heading up now, goodnight!”

  Matt zoomed for the door, calling over his shoulder, “Thanks for the dance, Maria! We’ll have to do it again sometime…or maybe never! ‘Night!”

  Silence descended with Matt’s departure and the tension thickened between them. He watched Maria swallow nervously, tracing the long, elegant line of her throat with his eyes when he wanted desperately to touch her.

  “Gabriel? Are you all right? You don’t really think anything happened here between Matt and me, do you? Even before he said that he’s gay I was never interested in him like that!”

  Driven by a primitive instinct he could barely even name, Gabriel walked slowly towards her, feeling his groin grow heavy as his penis filled with blood. Slowly, she backed away from him as he advanced, until her back hit the covered keyboard of the grand piano and there was no escape. He saw Maria’s eyes drop to his pants and could feel them getting even tighter as his cock started to rise and push against the fabric.

  “No, I never thought either of you was interested in the other.” He reached out and ran a finger down her throat, to her delicate collarbone and the golden cross necklace displayed by the cowl neckline of her cream sweater dress.

  Maria shivered at his touch, and her breathing grew rapid. “Then why were you so upset? You looked like you wanted to kill us.”

  “Because I did want to kill him—for putting his hands on you. And you, for allowing it.” He circled her throat with one hand, feeling her pulse race beneath his fingers, and leaned in to whisper in her ear, “I’ve realized that I can’t stand the sight of another man’s hands on you—any man, even one I trust.

  “I’ve never been the jealous type before, so please forgive me for overreacting. But now, I need to put my mark on you.”

  With that, his mouth descended on her neck and Maria whimpered as his lips caressed and nibbled along the length. He sucked her skin into his mouth and Maria cried out when he bit down gently, careful not to break her skin, but enough to mark her there. He released her skin and soothed the sting with his tongue, laving the slight hurt away.

  He finally lifted his head, and Maria’s eyes were dilated until the azure blue of her iris was nearly eclipsed by the pupil, making her look nearly drugged with desire. She reached out and grabbed his head and pulled him down, crashing his mouth on hers.

  She was nearly frantic as she kissed him, her mouth opening immediately to admit his tongue, hers stroking his greedily and slipping past into his own mouth. He groaned at the feel of her tongue and her soft, wet lips. He finally had to break the kiss, his chest heaving, and nibbled his way across her cheek to her ear where he sucked her lobe into his mouth.

  “Gabriel,” she moaned, pushing her chest into his, rubbing her breasts against him. He cupped one breast and rubbed her nipple, and even through the knit of her dress he could feel her nipple pebble against his thumb.

  “God, I have to taste you,” he muttered and pulled her neckline as far down as it would go, relieved that the knit fabric and loose neckline allowed him to bare one bra-covered breast. He pushed down the cup completely and finally her pink tipped breast was exposed to him. He bent his head and immediately latched onto her nipple, sucking strongly.

  Maria gave one of those provocative, breathless cries he remembered so well and arched her back, pushing her breast deeper into his greedy mout
h. She thrust her hands into his hair to hold him there, although there was no place else he’d rather be. He sucked on her breast hungrily and her hips squirmed against his with every pull of his mouth.

  He reached down to gather her skirt up until the hem was finally reached and her thighs exposed to his touch. His hand stroked one thigh, and he grunted in frustration when he realized she had on tights under her dress. No matter—he could still feel her searing heat and dampness as he cupped her mound, pressing down against her pubic bone with the heel of his hand and curving his fingers into her cleft.

  Maria gave a little scream and bucked up hard into his palm. Her leg came up and curled around his thigh as she tried to open herself to him. He clutched her bottom and hoisted her on top of the keyboard cover, and then nestled himself between her thighs. He finally let go of her nipple and raised his head, staring into her eyes as he ground his fully erect and aching cock against her mound.

  “God, I want to be in you so much,” Gabriel groaned. Even through her tights and his trousers the pleasure was divine, but nothing could equal being in her tight cunt. “I remember how tight, hot and wet your pussy is, and how much you squeezed my cock deep inside, like you never wanted me to leave.”

  “Oh, I want it too, so much,” she panted. “But we can’t!”

  “I know, not now, not yet. But I can still pleasure you this way, and pleasure myself too.” With that he thrust against her, stroking hard and fast.

  She whimpered and bucked, grinding her mound against his thick length. Suddenly she stiffened and he knew she was coming. He quickly covered her mouth and swallowed her scream as she climaxed, and he could feel her muscles clenching and releasing. He wanted more than anything to feel it all again on his naked cock. Knowing she had reached orgasm pushed him over the edge and he groaned as he pulsed his release, rubbing his cock slowly against her damp crotch, wringing out every last drop of pleasure for them both.