You guide me backward until the nearest wall presses gently against my spine. The snowman ornaments on the tree peek from the branches, tiny little spectators pretending not to watch—but somehow, they can’t look away, their painted eyes fixed on us as if caught in the magic of the moment.
Your hands slide up my arms, lifting them above my head with a steady, claiming touch that makes my chest ache. The intensity in your eyes—focused, burning, unbearably magnetic—undoes me completely.
You trace soft kisses along my nose, my eyes, the curve of my cheeks, teasing and tender, and I melt into you, every nerve alight.
Then your lips find mine—slow at first, tasting, savoring—before deepening, harder, insistent. My body presses fully against yours, every inch craving more, every heartbeat syncing with yours.
The room shrinks around us, golden light catching in your hair, the snowmen still trying not to look, but keeping their little eyes on us anyway, helpless witnesses to the heat we’re creating.
Then…