Winter

As we entered the house, Thomas took our bags. Dontae scooped me up, threw me over his shoulder, and started up the stairs. I couldn't help but giggle. "Damn, near twenty-four thousand for 3 cameras?.. girl," He said, chuckling. I got something for this ass. He smacked my naked flesh under my dress.

He carried me like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder to our master suite, my cheeks red from the cold and my heart racing from his touch. He laid me on the bed, the sheets cold against my back. He began to undress, and I slipped my dress off over my head, then pulled my tits out of my bra. I tweaked my nipples, tugging them softly; our eye contact never broke. The fireplace crackled in the background, casting a warm glow over his muscular frame. I sat with my thighs parted and back arched. "Come fuck me, Mr Briggs," I said seductively. "Call me Daddy." He quipped. "Daddy," I said with a sly grin.

Dontae crawled onto the bed, his eyes filled with a hunger that I hadn't seen in a long time. He kissed me, his tongue demanding entry into my mouth. I moaned, my body responding to him despite my swirling thoughts. He reached for my breasts, kneading them gently before taking a nipple into his mouth. I arched my back, my toes curling into the sheets.

His touch was rough, but it was what I needed. He was claiming me, marking me as his. And for a moment, I almost believed it. His hand slid down my body, his fingers finding my wetness. He teased me, sliding in and out with a slow, torturous rhythm. "Can I have some more, he whispered. I nodded.

His large dick entered me, I couldn't help but gasp. Dontae had always taken what he wanted, and that's why he's so successful. Dontae was all about the conquest, the claiming. Deep down, I knew my refusing his proposals was fucking with his ego. I also knew that deep down, I had a decision to make. Fight or run.

I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the now. Dontae's rhythm grew faster, and his groans deliciously turned to whimpers filling the room. I wrapped my legs around him, trying to get closer. "Baby, this pussy is so damn good," Dontae said breathlessly. I know he's close. "You want to fill my pussy?" I whispered. He had no words; all he could do was nod. I did a Kegel and held it. Clenching my pussy around him.

With a guttural moan, he nut immediately. I faked my own, not wanting to disappoint him. He collapsed onto me, his heavy body pressing me into the mattress. "I love you," he murmured into my ear, his voice thick with passion.

I love you too, my love. "You didn't come," he said. "Give me five minutes," he said, panting.

As if on cue, we both burst out laughing. It was a strange, disjointed sound in the quiet of the room, a release of tension that had been building between us. Dontae rolled off me, his chest heaving with mirth. "What's so funny?" he asked, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Nothing," I said, still giggling. "Everything." It was the kind of laughter that comes from a place of relief, a moment of shared absurdity in a world that often felt too serious. We lay there, holding each other.

Dontae's hand found mine, lacing our fingers together; he kissed my knuckles softly. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked, his voice softer now.

I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I don't know," I admitted. "It's just... I've been feeling a little lost lately."

He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with concern. "I know, and that's why I'm making it my business for us to reconnect love," he said in a low tone. "I know It's not going to be easy, but I swear I'm all in," he leaned in. "Use me like a dirty slut, feel free to grab my head and ride my tongue, anytime, anywhere ...if you're frustrated..if you're happy..unsure.. shit... if you're bored. come to me and soak my beard, do you hear me?" That shit made me smile. "I thought you would like that," he said with a smug-ass grin. "Do you trust me, Winter?"

I nodded, my eyes brimming with tears. "I do," I whispered.

He leaned down and kissed me softly. "Good," he said. "Because I'm not going anywhere." His hand slid down my body, his thumb circling my clit gently. "And I won't stop until you're ready to be my wife."

Dontae's words hung in the air, heavy with promise and hope. He kissed me again, this time with more urgency. His hands roamed my body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and dip. He was making love to me, not just fucking me. And for the first time in a long while, it felt real.

He whispered sweet nothings in my ear, telling me how much he loved me, how much he needed me. His dick slid into me again; I couldn't help but believe him. This was the man I had fallen in love with, the man who had promised to cherish me until the end of time.

But even as he brought me to another shattering climax, As Dontae held me close, his breath warm against my neck, I made a silent promise to myself. I would figure out what I wanted and what I needed. And until then, I would keep Sage in mind, a secret treasure that only I knew about. Because no matter what Dontae said or how much he loved me, I knew I couldn't ignore the yearning in my heart. It was a yearning that only one man could satisfy, and his name wasn't Dontae Briggs.

The snow outside had stopped, leaving a pristine white blanket over the city. The world outside looked so peaceful, so untouched. I wished I could feel the same. But as I lay there, my mind racing with thoughts of Sage and the life I could have with him, I knew that peace was a luxury I couldn't afford. Not yet.

So I held onto Dontae, letting his love warm me, letting his words soothe me. But deep down, I knew that the storm inside me wasn't going anywhere. And when the time came to choose, I would have to face the cold, hard truth.

But for now, I would let the warmth of his love wash over me, pretending that it was enough. Because, in the end, that's all any of us can do. Pretend the storm isn't coming until it's outside our door.

Sage:

I was wrecking my brain to determine which day Winter's birthday fell. She and Lamont were twins, but he was born just before midnight, and she was born two minutes later, after midnight. So Lamont never considered them to be twins, even though they shared a womb, because they had birthdays a day apart.

After hours of scrolling through the client's contacts on my laptop, I found a photo of her driver's license. Her address stared back at me, and I knew what to do. I had been working on a sculpture, a masterpiece, really. It was a replica of Bernini's 'Winter' statue—a woman with a fur collar hunched over in anticipation of the spring thaw. It was perfect, and it was for her.

I pulled out the small blue post-it, which she'd dropped the first time she came to my studio. Her affirmation was on it; I'll add to it, 'Winter, you are more than enough,' hers said. Mine says, 'Winter, you are adored.' I sat back in my chair and smiled. This was probably going to piss her multi-millionaire man off. I don't give a shit. She should be his fucking wife, as far as I'm concerned, she's ripe for the taking.

I had to admit how she looked at me in the store; she saw me for the first time and knew I had seen her hurt and would do something about it. That look was worth every fucking dollar I had ever made. I couldn't get it out of my head. I had to see her again.

The following day, I had the delivery service deliver the sculpture to her house with a big silver bow.

Winter:

"Baby, get out of the mirror; you look fine. His eyebrows were furrowed, trying to adjust his tie; I could tell he was uncomfortable and getting frustrated. Dontae is an ex-pro football player / retired coach / New owner of the Chicago Pistols. He's only ever worn athletic clothes and sneakers. His 6 foot 7, 290 lb. muscular frame looks damn good in them too. Dontae isn't used to tailored slacks, shirts, blazers, or Italian leather shoes. 'Grown man shit,' I like to call it. So he'll fumble with his clothes for hours if I let him. "Baby, you look perfect," I said softly as I helped him into his jacket, smoothing it for him. I let my fingers linger on his shoulders, massaging him. I stood back and looked at him. This is a fine piece of work right here, I thought to myself. At least he looked the part of a loving husband and devoted life partner.

whore

Thomas's voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting my thoughts. "Mrs. Davenport, you have a delivery that requires your signature." I rolled my eyes at the formality; Dontae had insisted on it, even though we weren't married. But I couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he was trying so hard to make things right.

I pulled on my silk robe and padded downstairs, the sound of my bare feet on the cold marble echoing through the grand hallway. The door was already open, and Thomas stood by the entrance, holding a large, elegantly wrapped box. "It's from Sage?" he said, raising his eyebrow. He said it with more of a question than a statement. I felt a flutter in my stomach as I took the box from him.

Carefully, I peeled back the layers of wrapping paper, revealing the smooth, cold marble of the sculpture beneath. My heart skipped a beat as the blue post-it note fell into my hand. "Winter, you are adored." I read the words out loud, feeling the weight of his declaration. The sculpture was stunning, a perfect likeness of the Bernini original, but with a twist that made it uniquely mine.

I couldn't believe he had done this for me. The gesture was so thoughtful and intimate. It was a declaration of his feelings, laid bare for me to see. But as I looked at it, I felt guilty. Dontae was upstairs, planning our trip, trying to win me back, and here I was, holding a gift from another man—a man who had seen my pain and offered me comfort.

I placed the sculpture on the mantle, the blue post-it fluttering to the floor. I picked it up and stared at it, my thumb tracing the words. What was I going to do? I couldn't ignore my connection with Sage, but I couldn't betray Dontae. He made mistakes, sure, but he was trying. And as much as I wanted to believe that Sage could give me what I needed, I knew I wouldn't just throw away what I had with Dontae.

But when I walked into the bedroom, my thoughts were pushed aside by the sight of Dontae. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his tie loose around his neck, his suit jacket thrown over the chair. He looked up at me, his eyes hungry. "You took your sweet time," he said, his voice low and gruff. I couldn't help but feel a thrill run through me. He was so powerful, so commanding. It was easy to get lost in his presence.

I approached him slowly, letting the robe slide from my shoulders. The lingerie was a new set I had picked out just for him. It was sheer and cream, leaving nothing to the imagination. His eyes raked over me, his chest rumbling with a deep, animalistic growl. I knew that sound. It was his way of saying he wanted me, and I couldn't resist the urge to give in.

He stood up, his movements swift and precise. He was a force of nature, and I was about to be swept up in the storm. He took me in his arms, his mouth crushing down on mine. His hands were everywhere, exploring my body like it was the first time. And maybe, in a way, it was. Maybe this was the start of something new, something better.

As he picked me up and carried me to the bed, I couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe we could find our way back to each other. Maybe all we needed was time and effort. And as he laid me down and kissed every inch of my skin, I let myself believe we could make it work.

For now, at least. Because deep down, I knew that the storm wasn't over. It was biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike again. And when it did, I wasn't sure if our love would be enough to keep us from being torn apart.