Elle ✨🧚🏽‍♀️🫶🏾

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The Lincoln Center glittered against the December night sky, its fountain frozen mid-spray, crystallized by winter's grip. Paige Bueckers stood outside the David H. Koch Theater, hands buried deep in the pockets of her tailored black coat, watching the crowd filter through the doors. She didn't belong here – not among the fur stoles and champagne flutes, not in this world of tutus and tiaras.

"You're brooding again," KK said, appearing at her elbow with two tickets in hand. "I can literally see the storm cloud over your head."

"I don't brood," Paige replied, her jaw tight. "I assess."

"You brood." KK looped her arm through Paige's and tugged her toward the entrance. "Come on, boss. One night. Two hours. You can survive the Nutcracker for me, can't you?"

Paige wanted to say no. She wanted to be back at the warehouse in Red Hook, going over shipment manifests and territory maps, doing the work that kept the Auriemma family running smoothly in the six months since Geno had passed. She wanted to be anywhere but here, exposed and vulnerable in a crowd where she couldn't control the exits or identify the threats.

But KK was looking at her with those wide, pleading eyes, and Paige had never been able to deny her best friend anything.

"Two hours," Paige conceded. "Then we leave."

"Two hours," KK agreed, grinning triumphantly.

Inside, the theater was a cathedral of red velvet and gold leaf, five tiers of balconies rising toward a ceiling painted with constellations. Their seats were in the orchestra section, close enough to see every detail. KK had spared no expense – of course she hadn't. She was dating a principal dancer at the New York City Ballet, and Kayleigh Heckel was performing tonight.

"She's dancing the Snow Queen," KK whispered as the lights dimmed, her voice reverent. "Wait until you see her. She's incredible."

Paige settled into her seat, hyperaware of every person around them, cataloging faces and exits even as the curtain rose. The music swelled, and the stage came alive with children and Christmas trees and a growing sense of magic that Paige refused to let herself feel.

She'd learned long ago that magic was just another word for vulnerability.

The first act passed in a blur of color and movement. Paige watched with detached appreciation, acknowledging the technical skill without allowing herself to be moved by it. This was KK's world, not hers. She was just a visitor, counting down the minutes until she could return to the shadows where she belonged.

Then the second act began, and everything changed.

The stage transformed into the Land of Sweets, all pastels and sparkle, and the dancers emerged one by one to perform for Clara and her Prince. Spanish chocolate, Arabian coffee, Chinese tea, each dance more elaborate than the last. Paige watched with growing impatience, ready for this to be over.

And then the Sugar Plum Fairy appeared.

She seemed to materialize from the very air itself, rising onto pointe with such effortless grace that Paige forgot to breathe. The dancer was smaller than the others, delicate and precise, her movements so controlled they appeared weightless. She wore a tutu of pale pink and silver, a tiara catching the stage lights, but Paige barely noticed the costume. She couldn't look away from the dancer's face – the fierce concentration, the absolute mastery of every muscle, every breath.

The Sugar Plum Fairy began to dance, and Paige felt something crack open in her chest.

It wasn't just the technical perfection, though that was undeniable. It was the way the dancer commanded the stage, the way she made something impossibly difficult look like breathing. There was power in that control, a kind of strength Paige recognized because she'd spent her whole life cultivating it in herself.

But where Paige's control was rigid and defensive, built from necessity and survival, this dancer's control was fluid and expressive. She wielded it like an artist, not a weapon.

"That's Azzi Fudd," KK whispered, leaning close. "Kayleigh's best friend. Isn't she amazing?"

Paige couldn't respond. She was transfixed, watching Azzi execute a series of fouettés that seemed to defy physics, her supporting leg steady as steel while the working leg whipped around again and again. Thirty-two rotations without traveling an inch, without wavering, without showing even a hint of strain.

When the variation ended and Azzi took her bow, the applause was thunderous. Paige found herself clapping too, harder than she'd intended, her palms stinging.

"You okay?" KK asked, eyebrow raised. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine," Paige said automatically, but she wasn't fine. Her heart was racing, her carefully maintained composure slipping. She forced herself to look away from the stage, to focus on the exit signs and the security guards and anything else that would ground her back in reality.

This was dangerous. This feeling, this pull – it was exactly the kind of weakness she couldn't afford.

The rest of the performance passed in a haze. Paige was aware of Kayleigh's Snow Queen scene, aware of KK's delighted commentary, but her mind kept returning to those thirty-two fouettés, to the fierce determination in Azzi Fudd's dark eyes.

When the curtain finally fell and the lights came up, Paige stood immediately, ready to leave. But KK grabbed her arm.

"We're going backstage," she announced. "Kayleigh said we could come say hi."

"KK–"

"Please?" KK's expression turned serious. "I know this isn't your scene, P. I know you'd rather be literally anywhere else. But this is important to me. Kayleigh is important to me."

Paige sighed, recognizing defeat. "Fine. But we're not staying long."

Backstage was controlled chaos – dancers in various states of undress rushing between dressing rooms, stage crew moving set pieces, the air thick with hairspray and rosin and sweat. KK navigated the maze with confidence, clearly familiar with the layout, and Paige followed close behind, her senses on high alert.

They found Kayleigh in a dressing room she shared with three other dancers, still in her Snow Queen costume, her brown curls pinned in an elaborate updo. Her face lit up when she saw KK, and she crossed the room in three quick steps to kiss her girlfriend.

"You came," Kayleigh breathed, her hands framing KK's face.

"Of course I came," KK replied, grinning. "You were incredible. That lift in the pas de deux? I thought my heart was going to stop."

"You must be Paige," Kayleigh said, turning to extend a hand. "KK talks about you all the time."

"All good things, I hope," Paige said, shaking her hand. Kayleigh's grip was surprisingly strong, her palm callused from years of training.

"Mostly," Kayleigh teased, then glanced over her shoulder. "Azzi! Come meet KK's friend."

Paige's stomach dropped.

Azzi Fudd emerged from behind a changing screen, now dressed in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. Without the stage makeup and costume, she looked younger, more approachable. But her eyes, those dark, intelligent eyes, held the same intensity Paige had seen from the audience.

"Hi," Azzi said, offering a small smile. "I'm Azzi."

"Paige." Her voice came out rougher than intended. "You were – the Sugar Plum Fairy was incredible."

"Thank you." Azzi's smile widened slightly, and Paige noticed the dimple in her left cheek. "It's one of my favorite roles. Are you a ballet fan?"

"First time," Paige admitted. "KK dragged me."

"I did not drag you," KK protested. "I persuaded you. There's a difference."

"Barely," Paige muttered, but she was still looking at Azzi, unable to help herself.

Up close, Azzi was even more beautiful than she'd been on stage. There was something magnetic about her, a quiet confidence that drew Paige in even as every instinct screamed at her to retreat. This woman was dangerous, not in the way Paige's enemies were dangerous, but in a way that was somehow worse.

Azzi could make her feel things. Want things. And wanting was the fastest way to get hurt in Paige's world.

"We should get dinner," KK announced suddenly, looking between Paige and Azzi with barely concealed glee. "All four of us. Tomorrow night?"

"KK–" Paige started, but Kayleigh was already nodding enthusiastically.

"That would be amazing! Azzi, you're free tomorrow, right?"

Azzi glanced at Paige, something unreadable in her expression. "I have a show at seven, but I could do a late dinner. Nine-thirty?"

"Perfect," KK said before Paige could object. "There's this new place in Tribeca, Huso. I'll make a reservation."

Paige wanted to argue, to make an excuse, to do anything to avoid spending more time with Azzi Fudd. But KK was looking at her with such hope, and Kayleigh was beaming, and Azzi was watching her with those dark eyes, waiting.

"Nine-thirty," Paige heard herself say. "I'll be there."

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Huso was the kind of restaurant where the menu didn't list prices and the sommelier spoke in hushed, reverent tones about terroir and vintage. Paige arrived first, as was her habit, and claimed a corner table with a clear view of the entrance. She'd dressed carefully – black slacks, a crisp white button-down, a charcoal blazer that concealed the shoulder holster she never went without.

KK and Kayleigh arrived together, windswept and laughing, their fingers intertwined. They slid into the booth across from Paige, still caught up in their own private world.

"Azzi's running a few minutes late," Kayleigh said, checking her phone. "The show ran long tonight."

"No problem," Paige said, though her heart was racing. She'd spent the entire day trying to talk herself out of this dinner, reminding herself of all the reasons why getting involved with someone like Azzi was a terrible idea.

She'd failed spectacularly.

When Azzi finally arrived, Paige's breath caught. She was wearing a simple black dress that hugged her curves, her hair loose around her shoulders, minimal makeup highlighting her natural beauty. She looked nothing like the ethereal Sugar Plum Fairy or the casual dancer from the dressing room. She looked real and present and absolutely devastating.

"Sorry I'm late," Azzi said, sliding into the booth next to Paige. The space was intimate, their thighs nearly touching. "The curtain call went on forever."

"How was the show?" Kayleigh asked.

"Good. Tiring." Azzi smiled, but Paige could see the exhaustion around her eyes. "I'll be glad when Nutcracker season is over. I love the ballet, but doing the same show over and over gets old."

"I can't imagine," KK said. "How many performances do you do?"

"Forty-seven this season," Azzi replied. "We're about halfway through."

The conversation flowed easily after that, lubricated by excellent wine and even better food. KK and Kayleigh dominated the discussion, telling stories about how they'd met (at a charity gala where KK had bid an obscene amount of money for a backstage tour), their first date (a disaster involving food poisoning and a missed curtain), their favorite New York spots.

Paige mostly listened, content to observe, but she was hyperaware of Azzi beside her. The way Azzi laughed at KK's jokes, throwing her head back unselfconsciously. The way she gestured with her hands when she talked about ballet, her passion evident in every movement. The way she occasionally brushed against Paige's arm, sending electricity through Paige's entire body.

"So Paige," Azzi said during a lull in the conversation, turning to face her directly. "What do you do? KK's been very mysterious about it."

Paige shot KK a look, but her friend just shrugged innocently.

"I run the family business," Paige said carefully. "Imports and exports, mostly. My grandfather started it, and I took over when he passed."

It wasn't technically a lie. The Auriemma family did import and export – just not the kind of goods that came with customs paperwork.

"I'm sorry about your grandfather," Azzi said softly. "That must have been hard."

"It was." Paige took a sip of wine, using the moment to compose herself. "But he prepared me well. I knew what I was getting into."

"Still," Azzi persisted, her eyes searching Paige's face. "It's a lot of responsibility. Do you ever get to just relax? Have fun?"

"Fun is overrated," Paige said, aiming for lightness but landing somewhere closer to bitter.

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Azzi replied, but she was smiling. "Everyone needs fun. Even serious businesswomen who run import-export companies."

"What about you?" Paige deflected. "Ballet seems like it doesn't leave much time for fun either."

"True," Azzi acknowledged. "But dancing is fun for me. Even when it's hard, even when I'm exhausted, I love it. It's not just what I do – it's who I am."

There was something in the way she said it, a conviction that Paige envied. She'd never had the luxury of loving what she did. The family business was duty, obligation, survival. There was no room for passion.

"That must be nice," Paige said quietly. "Loving what you do."

Azzi tilted her head, studying her. "You don't love your work?"

"I'm good at it," Paige said. "That's what matters."

"I don't think that's true," Azzi said. "I think loving what you do is what makes you great at it, not just good."

Before Paige could respond, KK stood abruptly, pulling Kayleigh up with her. "We're going to head out," she announced, her grin wicked. "Early morning tomorrow."

"It's ten-thirty," Paige said flatly. "You don't have an early morning."

"Sure I do," KK said, winking. "Come on, babe. Let's go."

Kayleigh laughed, allowing herself to be tugged toward the exit, but not before calling back to Azzi, "Text me when you get home!"

And then they were gone, leaving Paige and Azzi alone at the table.

"Well," Azzi said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "That was subtle."

"KK has never been subtle in her life," Paige replied. She signaled for the check, determined to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. "I can give you a ride home if you want. I have a car waiting."

"That would be great, actually," Azzi said. "I took the subway here, and it's freezing out."

They settled the bill, Paige insisted on paying, practically offended at Azzi's request to split, and headed outside. Paige's driver was waiting at the curb, a black Cadillac with tinted windows. She opened the door for Azzi, then slid in beside her.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Azzi gave an address on the Upper West Side, and they pulled into traffic. The city lights streamed past the windows, painting Azzi's face in alternating shadow and gold. She'd turned to look out the window, giving Paige the opportunity to study her profile – the elegant line of her neck, the curve of her jaw, the way her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks.

"You're staring," Azzi said without turning around.

"Sorry," Paige said, not sorry at all.

Azzi turned to face her, and the space between them suddenly felt very small. "I don't mind."

The air in the car shifted, charged with something electric and dangerous. Paige knew she should look away, should put distance between them, should do anything to break this moment before it went somewhere she couldn't take back.

Instead, she leaned closer.

"This is a bad idea," Paige said, her voice low.

"Probably," Azzi agreed. "Why?"

"Because my life is complicated. Dangerous, even. I can't offer you anything real."

"I didn't ask for anything real," Azzi said. "Did I?"

She had a point. Paige searched her face, looking for hesitation or doubt, but found only certainty. Azzi knew what she was doing, what she was asking for.

"Just tonight," Paige said. It wasn't a question.

"Just tonight," Azzi confirmed.

The decision made, Paige leaned forward and tapped on the partition. "Change of plans. Take us to my place in Brooklyn."

She settled back against the leather seat. Azzi's hand found hers in the darkness, their fingers intertwining, and Paige allowed herself this one moment of weakness.

Just tonight. Then she'd go back to being the person she needed to be – hard, controlled, untouchable.

But for now, for these few stolen hours, she could let herself want.

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Paige's public apartment was in a converted warehouse in Dumbo, all exposed brick and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the East River. It was sparse and modern, more functional than comfortable, but the view was spectacular – the Brooklyn Bridge lit up against the night sky, Manhattan glittering beyond.

"Wow," Azzi breathed, crossing to the windows. "This is incredible."

"It's home," Paige said, shrugging off her jacket and draping it over a chair. She moved to the bar cart in the corner. "Drink?"

"Please."

Paige poured two glasses of whiskey, neat, and carried them to where Azzi stood by the windows. Their fingers brushed as Azzi took the glass, and Paige felt that same electric charge from the car.

"To bad ideas," Azzi said, raising her glass.

"To just tonight," Paige replied, and they drank.

The whiskey burned going down, liquid courage. Paige set her glass aside and turned to face Azzi fully, allowing herself to really look. In the dim light of the apartment, Azzi was breathtaking, all soft curves and sharp intelligence, strength wrapped in grace.

"I should tell you," Paige said, "I'm not good at this. The casual thing. I'm too controlled."

"I noticed," Azzi said, stepping closer. "You're always watching, always assessing. Like you're waiting for something to go wrong."

"In my experience, things usually do go wrong."

"Then maybe," Azzi said, reaching up to loosen Paige's tie, "you should stop thinking so much. Stop controlling everything. Just for tonight."

It was exactly what Paige needed to hear and exactly what terrified her. Letting go meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant danger. But Azzi was looking at her with such open want, such clear invitation, that Paige felt her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble.

"I don't know if I can," Paige admitted.

"Try," Azzi said simply, and kissed her.

The kiss was soft at first, exploratory, but it quickly deepened into something more urgent. Azzi tasted like whiskey and something sweeter, and Paige couldn't get enough. She pulled Azzi closer, one hand tangling in her hair, the other splayed across the small of her back.

Azzi made a small sound of approval and pressed closer, her body fitting against Paige's like they were made for this. Her hands found the buttons of Paige's shirt, working them open with practiced efficiency.

"Bedroom?" Azzi murmured against Paige's lips.

Paige nodded, not trusting her voice, and led Azzi down the hallway. Her bedroom was as sparse as the rest of the apartment – a king sized bed with crisp white sheets, a single nightstand, blackout curtains currently drawn back to reveal more of that spectacular view.

They tumbled onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses. Paige's shirt came off, then Azzi's dress, revealing miles of smooth brown skin and lean muscle. Paige traced the lines of Azzi's body with reverent hands, mapping the strength in her shoulders, the definition in her abs, the elegant length of her legs.

"You're beautiful," Paige breathed.

"So are you," Azzi replied, and there was such sincerity in her voice that Paige almost believed it.

They moved together with increasing urgency, hands and mouths exploring, learning each other's rhythms and responses. Azzi was surprisingly assertive, flipping their positions so she was straddling Paige's hips, her hair falling around them like a curtain.

"Let me," Azzi said, pinning Paige's wrists above her head. "Let me take care of you."

It went against every instinct Paige had honed over the past year since taking over the family. Control was survival. Control was power. Control was the only thing standing between order and chaos, between life and death. She made the decisions, called the shots, never showed weakness, never surrendered.

But Azzi's hands were warm and gentle on her shoulders, and those dark eyes were looking at her with something that made Paige's chest tight – not pity, not fear, but understanding. Like Azzi knew exactly what she was asking, exactly what it cost.

"Paige," Azzi said softly, her thumbs tracing soothing circles against Paige's skin. "You're so tense. Just relax. Let me take care of you tonight."

Paige's throat felt tight. She could feel her pulse hammering, every muscle in her body coiled and ready. Every tactical part of her brain was screaming that this was dangerous, that vulnerability was a liability, that letting someone else lead, even here, even now, was a risk she couldn't afford.

But God, she was so tired of being in control. So tired of the weight of every decision, every consequence, every life that depended on her never making a mistake.

"I don't know if I can," Paige admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azzi's smile was soft and understanding. She leaned down, her hair creating a private world around them, and kissed Paige slowly, thoroughly. "You can. Just for tonight, you don't have to be in charge of anything. Just feel. Can you try that for me?"

Paige took a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay. Okay."

"Good," Azzi murmured, and the simple word of approval sent unexpected warmth through Paige's chest. "Just breathe. I've got you."

Azzi began to move down Paige's body with the same precision and grace she'd shown on stage – every touch deliberate, every kiss placed with intention. But when Paige's shoulders tensed again, when her hands flexed like she was about to take control back, Azzi paused.

"Relax," she whispered against Paige's skin. "I'm not going anywhere. Just relax."

She kissed along Paige's jaw, down the column of her throat, finding the spot where her pulse jumped and lavishing attention there until Paige's breathing went ragged. Her hands traced patterns across Paige's ribs, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts in teasing passes that made Paige arch up, seeking more.

"That's it," Azzi encouraged softly. "Just like that."

Azzi's mouth found Paige's collarbone, tracing it with her tongue before biting down gently. Paige gasped, her hands moving restlessly against the sheets, fighting the urge to reach down and pull Azzi closer, harder, faster. But Azzi's gentle touches, her patient exploration, was doing something to Paige, unraveling something she'd kept wound tight for so long.

"You're doing so well," Azzi praised, and the words sent another wave of heat through Paige's body. "So beautiful like this."

Her mouth moved lower, kissing down the center of Paige's chest, then veering to the side to trace the curve of her breast. When her tongue finally flicked across Paige's nipple, Paige couldn't hold back the moan that escaped her.

"Perfect," Azzi murmured. "Let me hear you. No one here but us."

It was true. In this moment, there were no soldiers, no rivals, no responsibilities. Just Azzi's mouth and hands and the building pressure inside Paige that felt like it might consume her entirely.

Azzi took her time, lavishing attention on Paige's breasts until Paige was writhing beneath her, desperate for more. But when Paige's body went rigid again, when tension crept back into her muscles, Azzi lifted her head.

"Hey," she said gently, one hand coming up to cup Paige's face. "Relax, baby. Stop thinking. Just feel."

"I'm trying," Paige said, her voice strained.

"I know." Azzi kissed her softly. "You're doing so good. Just breathe with me."

She waited until Paige's breathing evened out, until the tension melted from her shoulders, before continuing her path downward. She kissed across Paige's abs, tracing the lines of muscle with her tongue, nipping at the sharp jut of her hipbone.

"Please," Paige gasped, and she wasn't even sure what she was asking for – more, faster, anything, everything.

"Tell me what you want," Azzi said softly, looking up at her with dark, heated eyes.

Paige, who gave orders every day, who commanded respect and obedience with a single look, found herself struggling to form words. "Touch me. Please, Azzi, I need–"

"I've got you," Azzi promised, her voice low and sure. "I got you, Paige."

When Azzi's mouth finally found her center, Paige's back arched off the bed and a cry tore from her throat. Azzi worked her with the same focused intensity she brought to her dancing – precise and powerful and absolutely devastating. Her tongue moved in patterns that built pleasure in waves, each one cresting higher than the last.

Paige's hands twisted in the sheets, then moved to Azzi's hair, threading through her curls, needing something to anchor herself to. The feeling of Azzi between her thighs, the wet heat of her mouth, the gentle encouragement in every touch – it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Azzi added her fingers, and Paige felt herself climbing toward something vast and terrifying. The pressure built and built, tension coiling tighter in her core, until she was balanced on a knife's edge.

"That's it," Azzi encouraged, her voice muffled but warm. "Let go, Paige. I got you."

And Paige did.

She came with Azzi's name on her lips and stars exploding behind her eyes, pleasure crashing through her in waves that seemed to go on forever. She felt like she was falling and flying at the same time, untethered from everything that usually kept her grounded – duty, responsibility, the weight of the family name. It was terrifying and exhilarating and absolutely perfect.

Azzi worked her through it, gentling her touches as Paige's body trembled with aftershocks, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs, her hip, her stomach. When she finally crawled back up Paige's body, she gathered her close, pressing kisses to her temple, her cheek, her lips.

"You okay?" Azzi asked softly, brushing sweat-dampened hair back from Paige's forehead.

"More than okay," Paige managed, her voice completely wrecked. She felt raw and open in a way that should have terrified her, but Azzi's arms around her felt safe. Solid. Real. "That was – fuck, Azzi."

Azzi laughed, the sound warm and pleased. "Good?"

"Understatement of the century."

Paige took a shaky breath, feeling her heartbeat gradually slow, feeling herself come back into her body. And with that return came the familiar sense of control, of power, of knowing exactly what she wanted and how to take it. She rolled them over in one smooth motion, pinning Azzi beneath her, and was gratified by the surprise and heat that flashed across Azzi's face.

"Your turn," Paige said, and her voice had dropped into that commanding tone she used in business, the one that expected obedience and always got it.

"Paige–"

"You took care of me," Paige said, catching Azzi's wrists and pressing them into the pillow above her head. Not asking. Taking. "Now I'm going to take care of you. And baby, you're going to lie there and take everything I give you. Understand?"

She could see the moment Azzi's breath caught, the way her pupils dilated, her body softening beneath Paige's in surrender. "Yes."

"Yes, what?" Paige prompted, a hint of a smirk playing at her lips.

"Yes, Paige," Azzi breathed.

"Good girl," Paige murmured, and felt Azzi shiver beneath her.

She kissed her deeply, claiming her mouth, tasting herself on Azzi's lips. Then she began her own exploration, but where Azzi had been gentle and coaxing, Paige was commanding and deliberate. She approached it the way she approached everything – with focus and determination and an almost obsessive attention to detail. She wanted to learn everything about Azzi's body, wanted to map every sensitive spot, catalog every sound she could draw from those perfect lips.

She kissed down Azzi's neck, finding the spot that made her gasp, then biting down hard enough to leave a mark. "Mine," she growled against Azzi's skin. "Tonight, you're mine."

"Yes," Azzi whimpered, and the sound went straight to Paige's core.

She traced Azzi's collarbones with her tongue, learning the landscape of her. When she reached Azzi's breasts, she was deliberate and demanding, alternating between gentle and firm, watching Azzi's face to gauge her reactions and adjusting accordingly.

"You're so responsive," Paige murmured, fascinated by the way Azzi's body arched into her touch. "So beautiful like this. So perfect for me."

"Paige, please–"

"Please what?" Paige asked, echoing Azzi's earlier question. "Tell me what you need. Beg for it."

"More," Azzi gasped, her hips rolling up seeking friction. "I need more. Please, Paige."

Paige smiled against her skin, satisfied. "That's better."

She continued her path downward, kissing across Azzi's abs, feeling the muscles jump beneath her lips, tracing the elegant lines of her dancer's body with possessive hands. When she finally settled between Azzi's thighs, she looked up to find Azzi watching her with desperate, hooded eyes.

"Keep your eyes on me," Paige commanded. "I want you to watch while I make you come apart."

"God, yes," Azzi breathed. "Please, Paige."

Paige took her time, but it was a different kind of patience than Azzi had shown – this was the patience of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, who was in complete control. She learned what made Azzi gasp, what made her moan, what made her grip the sheets and beg for more. Azzi was responsive and vocal, her dancer's body arching beautifully under Paige's touch, and Paige felt drunk on the power of it. The power of reducing this graceful, perfect woman to desperate pleas and trembling thighs.

She built Azzi up methodically, paying attention to every signal her body gave, but also denying her when she got too close, pulling back until Azzi was writhing and begging.

"Paige, please, I can't – I need–"

"You'll come when I say you can," Paige said firmly, and felt Azzi clench around her fingers. "Not before."

She worked Azzi higher and higher, until her thighs were trembling, until her breathing turned to desperate pants, until she was sobbing Paige's name. Only then did Paige increase her pace, adding pressure exactly where Azzi needed it.

"Now," Paige commanded. "Come for me now."

And Azzi did, like her body had been waiting for permission. She was absolutely gorgeous – head thrown back, lips parted, completely uninhibited. Her whole body tensed and then released, and she cried out Paige's name like a prayer. Paige watched in awe, committing every detail to memory, knowing she'd replay this moment in her mind for years to come.

She worked Azzi through it, only gentling her touches when Azzi's body went limp, when she was trembling and oversensitive. Paige pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs, her hip, before crawling back up to gather her close. Azzi was shaking slightly, her breathing still uneven, and Paige held her through it, stroking her hair, murmuring soft words against her temple.

"So perfect," Paige whispered. "You did so good for me, baby."

Afterward, they lay tangled together, sweaty and satisfied, the city lights painting patterns on their skin. Azzi's head was on Paige's chest, her breathing gradually slowing to match Paige's heartbeat.

"That was–" Azzi started, then laughed softly. "I don't even have words."

"Yeah," Paige agreed, running her fingers through Azzi's hair. "Me neither."

They were quiet for a long moment, and Paige felt the weight of reality beginning to creep back in. This was just tonight. Just one perfect, impossible night. Tomorrow, she'd go back to being the head of the Auriemma family, and Azzi would go back to being a principal dancer at the New York City Ballet, and their worlds would never intersect again.

It was safer that way. Better for both of them.

But as Azzi shifted closer, pressing a kiss to Paige's shoulder, Paige couldn't help but wonder if safety was really worth the cost.

"Stay," Paige heard herself say. "Just for tonight. Stay."

Azzi lifted her head, her dark eyes searching Paige's face. "Just for tonight?"

"Just for tonight," Paige confirmed, even though some part of her was already hoping for more.

"Okay," Azzi said, settling back against Paige's chest. "Just for tonight."

They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, the city keeping watch outside the windows. And for the first time in six months, maybe for the first time since Geno had died, Paige Bueckers let herself feel something other than the weight of responsibility.

She let herself feel hope.

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Paige woke to winter sunlight streaming through the windows and the smell of coffee. For a disorienting moment, she couldn't remember where she was or why her bed felt different. Then the memories of the previous night came flooding back, and she sat up abruptly.

Azzi was standing by the windows, wearing one of Paige's t-shirts and nothing else, holding a mug of coffee and looking out at the river. She turned when she heard Paige move, a soft smile on her face.

"Morning," Azzi said. "I hope you don't mind – I made coffee."

"I don't mind," Paige said, her voice rough with sleep. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to orient herself. "What time is it?"

"Almost nine. I have to be at the theater by eleven for a matinee." Azzi crossed to the bed and handed Paige the mug. "But I wanted to say goodbye first."

Goodbye. Right. Because this was just one night, just a temporary escape from their respective realities. Paige took a sip of coffee to buy herself time, trying to figure out what to say.

"Last night was–" she started.

"Amazing," Azzi finished. "It was amazing, Paige. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Paige said, setting the mug aside. "I should be thanking you. I haven't felt that free in a long time."

Azzi sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch but not quite touching. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why do you do it? The family business, I mean. If it makes you so unhappy, why not walk away?"

It was a fair question, one Paige had asked herself a thousand times. "Because it's not just about me," she said finally. "There are people who depend on me. People whose livelihoods, whose lives, are tied to the decisions I make. I can't just walk away from that responsibility."

"Even if it costs you your own happiness?"

"Happiness is a luxury I can't afford," Paige said. "Not in my world."

Azzi was quiet for a moment, studying her. Then she leaned forward and kissed Paige softly, sweetly, with a tenderness that made Paige's chest ache.

"Everyone deserves happiness," Azzi said when she pulled back. "Even you."

Before Paige could respond, Azzi stood and began gathering her clothes from where they'd been scattered across the floor. Paige watched her dress, memorizing the way the morning light caught in her hair, the graceful efficiency of her movements.

"I should go," Azzi said, slipping on her shoes. "But Paige? Last night was just a night. But if you ever need another night, you know where to find me."

She left before Paige could answer, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that felt like a door closing on something precious.

Paige sat alone in her bed, surrounded by rumpled sheets that still smelled like Azzi's perfume, and allowed herself exactly five minutes to feel the loss. Then she got up, showered, dressed, and went back to being the person she needed to be.

But as she stood in front of her closet, reaching for her usual armor of tailored suits and controlled composure, her hand hesitated. She thought about Azzi's words – everyone deserves happiness, even you – and wondered if maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to have both.

The family business and something more. Duty and desire. Steel and sugar.

It was a dangerous thought, one that could get people hurt. But as Paige pulled on her jacket and checked her gun, she couldn't quite let it go.

Just tonight had been perfect. But what if it didn't have to be just tonight?

What if she could find a way to make it more?

The question followed her out of the apartment and into the cold December morning, a small seed of possibility taking root in the frozen ground of her carefully controlled life.

And for the first time in a long time, Paige Bueckers allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, spring might come again.

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Buckle up. This one is, by far, my favorite of the group. I hope you love it at least half as much as I do! xx Elle

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The tires of the black Mercedes crunched over fresh powder as Azzi turned onto the private road leading to Paige's cabin. "Cabin" was a laughable understatement. The sprawling timber and glass structure that emerged through the snow-laden pines was more mansion than cozy cabin, all soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that promised breathtaking views of the White Mountains.

Azzi killed the engine and sat for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel, watching fat snowflakes drift past the windshield. The car itself was a gift, presented to her three months ago with typical Paige nonchalance, “You need something reliable for winter, baby. The keys are on the counter.” As if a sixty-thousand-dollar vehicle was as casual as buying someone coffee.

She exhaled slowly, her breath fogging in the cooling interior. Two years ago, she'd been sleeping on Caroline’s couch, wearing the same three outfits on rotation, calculating whether she could afford both dinner and her biology textbook. Now she was pulling up to a luxury mountain retreat in a car that cost more than her mother probably made in a year.

The thought of her mother sent the familiar pang through her chest – duller now than it used to be, but still there. Still aching.

Azzi grabbed her suitcase from the passenger seat and stepped out into the cold. The air bit at her cheeks, crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke. Paige had clearly arrived earlier and started a fire. Of course she had. Paige thought of everything.

The front door opened before Azzi reached it.

"There's my girl."

Paige stood backlit in the doorway, blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun, wearing dark jeans and a cream cashmere sweater that Azzi knew was impossibly soft. At thirty-eight, Paige Bueckers carried herself with the easy confidence of someone who'd built an empire from nothing and knew exactly what she was worth. She was beautiful in that sharp, commanding way that had made Azzi's stomach flip the first time they'd met. All clean lines and intense blue eyes that seemed to see straight through whatever walls you tried to build.

"Hi," Azzi said, suddenly shy despite everything, despite the fact that Paige had seen every inch of her, knew every sound she made.

Paige's expression softened. She stepped aside, gesturing Azzi in from the cold. "Come here. You must be freezing."

The interior was exactly as stunning as Azzi had remembered – vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, a stone fireplace that dominated one wall, leather furniture that looked butter-soft, and those windows showcasing the winter wonderland outside. Warmth enveloped her immediately, along with the scent of the fire and something cooking that made her stomach rumble.

"I made soup," Paige said, taking Azzi's bag and setting it aside. "Figured you'd be hungry after the drive."

"You made soup?" Azzi raised an eyebrow, shrugging out of her coat.

"Okay, fine. I had it delivered from that French place you like and I'm keeping it warm." Paige grinned, unrepentant. "But I did start the fire myself. That counts for something."

Azzi laughed, and just like that, the nervousness melted away. This was them. This was easy.

Paige pulled her close, and Azzi went willingly, tucking her face against that soft sweater, breathing in Paige's cologne – something expensive and subtle that Azzi could never quite identify but would recognize anywhere. Strong arms wrapped around her, and for a moment they just stood there, swaying slightly, while the fire crackled and snow fell silently outside.

"I'm glad you came," Paige murmured against her hair. "I know your friends wanted you to go to Cancun."

"I wanted to be here more."

It was true. When Kelis had pitched the spring break trip, well, winter break, but the sentiment was the same, Azzi had felt only the faintest flicker of FOMO. Sun and beaches and cheap tequila versus this. Versus Paige. Versus being somewhere she actually felt wanted and safe and seen? There was no contest.

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, those blue eyes searching. "You sure? Because if you're just–"

"I'm sure." Azzi stretched up to kiss her, soft and brief. "I promise. Now feed me before I perish dramatically on your very expensive rug."

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Two years earlier

The Bueckers Hotel in downtown Portland was the kind of place Azzi had only ever seen in movies – all marble and gold fixtures and staff in crisp uniforms who looked like they'd never had a bad day in their lives. She felt like an imposter in her ill-fitting black pants and white button-down, the uniform they'd issued her for her position in the restaurant.

It was her third week on the job, and she was still learning the rhythm of it, the way the lunch rush hit like a wave, the particular preferences of the regular guests, how to smile and be pleasant even when her feet ached and she'd been up until two AM finishing an essay.

She was nineteen, a freshman at the University of Southern Maine, and she was so fucking tired.

But the job paid better than the campus cafeteria, and she needed every dollar. The room she rented was cheap because it was barely habitable, a converted attic space with a hot plate and a bathroom she shared with three other people. It was hers, though. After three years of couch-surfing and spare rooms and never quite feeling like she had a place to land, having her own space, no matter how shitty, felt like victory.

She was refilling water glasses during the lunch service when she first saw Paige Bueckers.

The owner didn't come to the Portland location often – she had hotels in five cities, and rumor was she spent most of her time in Boston – but when she did, everyone snapped to attention. Azzi noticed the shift in energy before she saw the woman herself: backs straightening, voices dropping to professional murmurs, the manager practically vibrating with nervous energy.

Then Paige walked into the restaurant, and Azzi understood.

She was tall, blonde, dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than Azzi's entire wardrobe. But it wasn't the clothes or even the obvious wealth, it was the way she moved, the way she commanded space without seeming to try. She was talking to the manager, nodding at something he said, and then her gaze swept the room.

And landed directly on Azzi.

The eye contact lasted maybe three seconds. Paige's expression didn't change. Professional, polite, already moving on to the next thing. But Azzi felt it like a physical touch, a spark of electricity that made her breath catch.

She looked away quickly, focusing on the water pitcher in her hands, telling herself she was being ridiculous. Rich people looked at service workers all the time. It didn't mean anything.

Except Paige kept coming back.

Every week, sometimes twice a week, she'd appear at the hotel. She'd have meetings in the restaurant, or she'd sit at the bar with her laptop, or she'd just walk through, observing. And every time, without fail, her eyes would find Azzi.

At first, Azzi thought she was imagining it. Then she thought maybe she'd done something wrong, that Paige was scrutinizing her work. But the looks didn't feel critical. They felt... interested. Assessing. Like Paige was trying to figure something out.

It made Azzi nervous and hyperaware and, if she was honest with herself, a little thrilled.

The first time Paige spoke to her directly was a Tuesday in October. Azzi was clearing a table when she felt that familiar prickle of awareness. She looked up, and Paige was there, closer than she'd ever been, close enough that Azzi could see the exact shade of her eyes – pale blue, almost gray in the restaurant lighting.

"You're new," Paige said. Not a question.

"Um. Yes, ma'am. I started last month." Azzi's voice came out steadier than she felt.

"How are you finding it? The work?"

It was a normal question, the kind a boss might ask any employee. But the way Paige was looking at her, focused, intent, like Azzi's answer actually mattered, made it feel like something else entirely.

"It's good," Azzi said carefully. "Everyone's been really helpful."

"And school? You're a student, right?"

How did she know that? Had she asked about Azzi? The thought made her pulse quicken.

"Yes, ma'am. At Southern Maine. Freshman."

"What are you studying?"

"Biology. Pre-med, hopefully."

Something flickered in Paige's expression – approval, maybe, or respect. "That's ambitious. Good for you." She paused, and Azzi had the distinct sense she wanted to say something else. Instead, she just nodded. "Well. Keep up the good work."

She walked away, and Azzi stood there with a tub of dirty dishes, heart pounding, wondering what the hell had just happened.

After that, the interactions became more frequent. Paige would ask how her classes were going. She'd remember details Azzi had mentioned: an upcoming exam, a difficult professor. Once, when Azzi mentioned she was struggling with organic chemistry, a tutoring service mysteriously reached out offering free sessions to Bueckers Hotel employees.

Azzi wasn't stupid. She knew what this was, or what it could be. She'd heard the whispers from other staff. Paige Bueckers was gay, she was single, she had a reputation for being generous with people she took an interest in. The implications were clear.

And Azzi didn't know what to do with that.

She'd known she was gay since she was fourteen, had known with absolute certainty when she'd kissed Sarah Mitchell behind the gym and felt like her whole body had caught fire. Her parents had found out two years later. They’d found the texts, the photos, the evidence of who she really was. And they'd given her a choice: conversion therapy or get out.

She'd gotten out.

The years since had been hard in ways she didn't like to think about. She'd finished high school through sheer stubbornness, had worked her ass off for scholarships, had learned to rely on no one but herself. She didn't have room in her life for complications, for rich women with intense eyes who made her feel things she'd carefully locked away.

So when Paige asked her to dinner, casually, after a shift in early November, phrased as "I'd like to get to know you better outside of work," Azzi said no.

Paige had looked surprised. Probably not many people turned her down.

"Okay," she'd said slowly. "Can I ask why?"

Azzi had been honest. "Because you're my boss, and you're complicated. And I can't afford complications."

"I'm not trying to complicate your life, Azzi."

The way Paige said her name, like she'd been thinking it, practicing it, made Azzi's resolve waver.

"I just want to take you to dinner. No expectations, no pressure. Just dinner."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Paige had nodded, accepting it with more grace than Azzi expected. "All right. But if you change your mind, the offer stands."

Azzi thought that would be the end of it.

It wasn't.

Paige didn't push, didn't make things awkward. But she also didn't stop showing interest. She'd leave books on the staff break room table – biology textbooks, study guides, always with a sticky note that said "Thought this might help." She'd make sure Azzi got the better shifts, the ones that didn't conflict with her class schedule. Once, when Azzi came to work with a cold she couldn't afford to stay home for, she found a care package in her locker: medicine, tea, soup, a note that said, "Take care of yourself."

It was the small things that got to her. The way Paige remembered she took her coffee with two sugars and cream. How she'd casually mention job openings at the hotel that paid better and had more flexible hours. The time Azzi's ancient laptop finally died and a brand new one appeared at the front desk with her name on it. "An early Christmas bonus for exceptional employees," the note had said, but Azzi knew the hotel didn't give out thousand-dollar MacBooks as bonuses.

She'd tried to return it. Paige had refused.

"Consider it an investment in your education," she'd said. "You're going to do great things, Azzi. I can tell."

No one had ever said that to her before. No one had ever looked at her and seen potential instead of a burden, a disappointment, a sin that needed to be corrected.

The gifts kept coming, always practical, always something Azzi actually needed. A winter coat when hers wore through. Textbooks for the spring semester. A gift card to the grocery store tucked into her last paycheck with a note that said, "Eat something other than ramen."

It should have felt transactional. It should have made her uncomfortable.

Instead, it made her feel cared for in a way she'd never experienced.

By the time finals rolled around and Azzi turned in her resignation, she'd found a better-paying position at a coffee shop near campus, she stopped pretending she wasn't interested. Stopped pretending that Paige's attention didn't make her heart race and her skin flush.

Paige had found her on her last shift, after the dinner rush had cleared.

"I heard you're leaving," she said without preamble.

Azzi's hand tightened on the envelope containing her final paycheck. "How did you know?"

"I make it my business to know." Paige stepped closer, and Azzi could smell her cologne – something expensive and subtle that made her want to lean in. "Can I take you to dinner now? No boss-employee complications anymore."

Azzi couldn’t hide her smile as said yes.

That first dinner had turned into a second, then a third. Paige was different outside of work. She was still confident, still commanding, but softer somehow. She asked questions and actually listened to the answers. She made Azzi laugh. She made her feel like she mattered.

The arrangement had evolved naturally. Paige had money, more money than Azzi could comprehend, and she wanted to use it to make Azzi's life easier. A nicer apartment, closer to campus. Help with tuition. A reliable car so Azzi didn't have to take three buses to get to class.

"Let me do this," Paige had said when Azzi protested. "You're working so hard. Let me make it easier. Please. Let me take care of you."

And Azzi, who'd been fighting alone for so long, had finally let herself accept help.

The physical relationship had developed naturally from there. One night, after dinner at Paige's penthouse, they'd been sitting close on the couch, and Azzi had just leaned in. The kiss had been electric, inevitable, like something that had been building since that first moment in the restaurant.

Paige had pulled back, breathing hard. "Are you sure?"

Azzi had never been more sure of anything.

That first night had been a revelation – Paige's hands on her skin, the way she'd taken her time, learning every inch of Azzi's body like it was something precious. The way she'd made Azzi feel safe enough to let go, to be vulnerable, to take what she needed.

In the months since, their arrangement had deepened into something neither of them had quite expected. It was supposed to be simple; financial support in exchange for companionship, affection, sex. But somewhere along the way, it had become real. Paige genuinely cared about Azzi's happiness, her success, her dreams. And Azzi had found herself falling for this complicated, generous, intense woman who'd somehow become her safe haven.

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Present

"Earth to Azzi."

Azzi blinked, realizing she'd been staring into the fire, lost in memory. Paige was watching her from the kitchen area, amusement and concern mixing in her expression.

"Sorry," Azzi said, shaking herself. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"How far I've come. How different things are now."

Paige's expression softened. She crossed to the couch, settling beside Azzi and pulling her close. "You did that yourself, baby. I just helped smooth the path a little."

"You did more than that." Azzi turned to look at her. "You gave me space to breathe. To focus on school without constantly worrying about rent or food or whether I'd have to drop out. You gave me stability. That's not nothing, Paige."

"You're not nothing." Paige's thumb traced Azzi's cheekbone. "You're everything."

The words hung between them, weighted with meaning neither of them was quite ready to fully examine. This thing between them had started as an arrangement, but it had become something else – something deeper, more complicated, more real.

Azzi kissed her, slow and thorough, trying to convey everything she couldn't quite say. When they broke apart, both breathing harder, Paige's eyes had darkened.

"So," Azzi said, deliberately lightening the mood, "I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" Paige's eyebrow arched. "What kind of surprise?"

"The kind you'll have to wait for." Azzi stood, grabbing her overnight bag. "Give me twenty minutes. Pour us some wine, get comfortable, and don't come looking for me."

"Azzi–"

"Patience," Azzi called over her shoulder, heading toward the bedroom she could see down the hall. "Good things come to those who wait."

She could feel Paige's eyes on her as she walked away, could practically feel the anticipation building.

In the bedroom, another stunning space with a massive bed and more of those floor-to-ceiling windows, Azzi set down her bag and took a breath. Outside, snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in white. Inside, a fire crackled and the woman she was falling for waited.

Two years ago, she'd been alone and struggling and convinced she'd never let anyone close enough to hurt her again.

Now, she was here. Safe. Wanted. Maybe even loved, though neither of them had said the word yet.

Azzi unzipped her bag and pulled out the lingerie, a smile playing at her lips.

Tonight was going to be perfect.

She smoothed her hands over the red velvet box on the bed. Inside was the lingerie set she'd ordered specifically for tonight. A surprise for Paige. A thank you for everything. A promise of more.

Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted the lid.

The lingerie was even more beautiful than it had looked online. Red lace and satin, trimmed with soft white fur that felt like clouds against her fingertips. She pulled out each piece carefully. The bra with its plunging neckline and delicate lace overlay. The matching panties that were more suggestion than coverage. The garter belt with its silver clasps. The sheer stockings that would hug her thighs. There was a short cape too, red velvet lined with white fur, and a Santa hat with a white pom-pom that bounced when she touched it.

Azzi stripped out of her clothes, her skin prickling with anticipation. She could hear the faint crackle of the fire from the living room, could picture Paige out there waiting, probably scrolling through her phone or pouring them both wine.

She started with the panties, sliding the red lace up her legs. They sat low on her hips, the white fur trim soft against her skin. The bra came next, and she had to adjust it twice to get it right – the cups pushed her breasts up and together, creating cleavage she didn't usually have. The lace was sheer enough that she could see the dark shadow of her nipples through the fabric.

The garter belt clipped around her waist, and she attached the stockings one at a time, smoothing them up her legs and fastening the clasps. The stockings had a seam up the back that she had to straighten, turning to check in the full-length mirror.

God, she looked – she looked like sex. Like a fantasy. Like something Paige would want to unwrap slowly, savoring every moment.

The cape fastened around her shoulders with a small clasp, falling just to the curve of her ass. She positioned the Santa hat on her head, letting her dark curls spill out from underneath.

One last look in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. The red of the lingerie made her skin look golden, and the white fur trim drew attention to all the right places: the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the length of her legs in those stockings.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Then she opened the bedroom door and walked out.

Paige was on the couch, just as Azzi had pictured, two glasses of wine on the coffee table in front of her. She was looking at her phone, but she glanced up when she heard the door.

And froze.

The phone slipped from her hand, landing on the couch cushion beside her. Her jaw literally dropped, lips parting on a sharp inhale. Her eyes went wide, then dark, pupils dilating as they traveled slowly down Azzi's body and back up again.

"Holy fuck," Paige breathed.

Azzi felt a surge of confidence at that reaction, at the way Paige was looking at her like she wanted to devour her. She walked forward slowly, deliberately, letting her hips sway with each step. The cape fluttered behind her, and she saw Paige's gaze drop to her legs, to the stockings and the way they made her legs look impossibly long.

"Merry Christmas, Daddy," Azzi said, her voice low and sultry.

Paige made a sound that was almost a growl. "Jesus Christ, baby. You look – fuck, you look incredible."

Azzi stopped in front of her, close enough that Paige could reach out and touch if she wanted. "You like it?"

"Like it?" Paige's hands flexed on her thighs, like she was physically restraining herself. "Azzi, you're the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. Come here."

But Azzi shook her head, smiling. "Not yet. I have something planned."

She reached for her phone on the side table, pulling up the playlist she'd made earlier. “Rocket” by Beyoncé filled the room.

Paige's eyes darkened further. "Are you about to do what I think you're about to do?"

"Depends." Azzi stepped between Paige's spread thighs, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off her body. "What do you think I'm about to do?"

"Drive me out of my fucking mind."

Azzi laughed, low and throaty. Then she turned around, giving Paige a perfect view of her ass in those barely-there panties, and began to move.

She'd never given a lap dance before, but she'd watched enough videos to get the idea. It was all about the tease, the slow build, the promise of what was coming. She rolled her hips to the music, letting the cape slide off one shoulder, then the other. She could feel Paige's gaze on her like a physical touch, burning into her skin.

Slowly, she lowered herself, bending at the waist so Paige got an eyeful of her ass, the red lace stretched tight across her curves. She heard Paige's sharp intake of breath, felt the air shift as Paige leaned forward.

"Fuck, baby," Paige muttered. "You're killing me."

Azzi straightened and turned, then lowered herself onto Paige's lap, straddling her thighs. This close, she could see the way Paige's chest was rising and falling rapidly, could see the flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.

"Touch me, Daddy," Azzi whispered, rolling her hips in a slow grind.

Paige's hands came up immediately, gripping Azzi's hips hard enough to bruise. "Fuck yeah."

Azzi moved against her, finding a rhythm with the music. She could feel the heat between her own legs, the way her body was responding to the friction, to the way Paige was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

She rolled her hips again, harder this time, and Paige's grip tightened. One hand slid around to palm Azzi's ass, squeezing roughly.

"That's it," Paige said, her voice rough. "Grind on me, baby. Show Daddy how much you want it."

Azzi whimpered, the sound escaping before she could stop it. She was already so turned on, already so wet, and they'd barely started. She could feel it, the dampness soaking through the lace of her panties.

She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against Paige's chest, and whispered in her ear, "I want it so bad, Daddy. Want you so bad."

Paige's other hand came up to tangle in Azzi's hair, tugging her head back so she could look into her eyes. "Yeah? Tell me what you want."

"Want you to touch me." Azzi was grinding harder now, chasing the friction. "Want you to fuck me. Want you to make me come so hard I can't remember my own name."

"Greedy girl." But Paige was smiling, that predatory smile that made Azzi's stomach flip. "You're gonna get everything you want, baby. I promise."

Azzi kept moving, kept grinding, her hands sliding up Paige's arms to her shoulders. The music pulsed around them, and she lost herself in it, in the feeling of Paige's hands on her body, in the heat building between them.

She could feel Paige getting worked up too, could feel the tension in her muscles, the way her breathing had gone ragged. When Azzi rolled her hips just right, Paige's head fell back against the couch with a groan.

"Fuck, Azzi. You're so fucking sexy."

Azzi leaned down and kissed her, hard and deep, swallowing Paige's moan. Their tongues tangled together, and Azzi could taste the wine Paige had been drinking. She bit down on Paige's bottom lip, tugging gently, and Paige's hips bucked up involuntarily.

"Need you," Azzi breathed against her mouth. "Need to taste you, Daddy."

Paige's eyes flashed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Azzi slid off her lap, sinking to her knees between Paige's spread thighs. She looked up through her lashes, saw the way Paige was staring down at her with pure hunger. "Let me make you feel good."

"Fuck." Paige's hand came down to cup Azzi's cheek, thumb brushing over her bottom lip. "You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby."

Azzi turned her head and kissed Paige's palm, then reached for the button of her jeans. She undid it slowly, maintaining eye contact, then pulled down the zipper. Paige lifted her hips so Azzi could tug the jeans down her legs, and Azzi took her time, letting her hands trail over Paige's thighs, feeling the muscle there.

The jeans hit the floor, and Azzi turned her attention to Paige's underwear. Simple black boxer briefs that were already damp. She could see the wet spot, could smell Paige's arousal, and it made her mouth water.

"These too?" she asked, hooking her fingers in the waistband.

"Everything," Paige said. "Want to feel that pretty mouth on me."

Azzi pulled the boxer briefs down, and Paige kicked them off. Then she was bare from the waist down, spread out on the couch, and Azzi had never seen anything more beautiful.

She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of Paige's knee, then higher, trailing her lips up the inside of her thigh. Paige's legs fell open wider, giving her more room, and Azzi could see how wet she was, could see her clit already swollen and ready.

"Don't tease," Paige said, her voice strained. "Need your mouth on me now."

Azzi smiled against her skin. "Yes, Daddy."

She closed the distance and licked a long, slow stripe up Paige's center, tasting her for the first time tonight. Paige's hips jerked, and her hand came down to tangle in Azzi's hair, the Santa hat falling off and landing somewhere on the floor.

"Fuck, yes," Paige groaned. "Just like that, baby."

Azzi did it again, then focused on Paige's clit, circling it with her tongue before softly sucking it into her mouth. Paige's grip on her hair tightened, almost painful, and Azzi moaned against her.

She loved this. She loved the taste of Paige on her tongue, loved the sounds she was making, loved the way Paige's thighs were trembling on either side of her head. She worked her tongue faster, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on Paige's clit.

"That's it," Paige panted. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good. Such a good girl for Daddy."

The praise sent a jolt of pleasure straight through Azzi. She doubled her efforts, sucking harder, using her tongue to trace patterns that made Paige's hips buck.

"Who do you belong to?" Paige asked, her voice rough and commanding even as she was falling apart.

Azzi pulled back just enough to answer. "You, Daddy. I belong to you."

"That's right." Paige's hand guided her back down. "Mine. All fucking mine."

Azzi went back to work with renewed enthusiasm, sliding her tongue lower to dip inside Paige before returning to her clit. She could feel Paige getting closer, could feel the way her muscles were tensing, the way her breathing had gone shallow and rapid.

"Gonna come," Paige warned. "Fuck, baby, gonna come in that pretty mouth."

Azzi moaned her encouragement, sucking Paige's clit hard and flicking her tongue rapidly. Paige's thighs clamped around her head, and then she was coming with a shout, her whole body going rigid as pleasure crashed through her.

Azzi worked her through it, gentling her movements as Paige came down, pressing soft kisses to her sensitive flesh until Paige tugged her hair, pulling her away.

"Come here," Paige said, her voice wrecked.

Azzi climbed back up, and Paige pulled her into a deep kiss, tasting herself on Azzi's lips. When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Azzi rested her forehead against Paige's.

"Thank you, Daddy," she whispered.

Paige's eyes darkened again, and Azzi could see the hunger returning already. "Oh, baby. We're just getting started."

She guided Azzi off her lap, making her kneel on the floor again. "Stay right there. Don't move."

Azzi watched as Paige stood and walked toward the bedroom, her movements purposeful. She was gone for maybe two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Azzi's knees were starting to ache against the hardwood floor, and she could feel how wet she was, how much she needed Paige to touch her.

When Paige came back, Azzi's breath caught.

She was wearing a harness, black leather straps that wrapped around her hips and thighs. And attached to it was a dildo, thick and long, bigger than anything Azzi had taken before. It was realistic, flesh-colored with prominent veins, and it jutted out from Paige's body obscenely.

Paige walked back to the couch and sat down, spreading her legs. The dildo stood at attention between her thighs, and she wrapped one hand around it, stroking slowly.

"Come here, baby," she said. "Crawl to Daddy."

Azzi's whole body flushed with heat. She crawled forward on her hands and knees, the stockings sliding against the floor, until she was kneeling between Paige's legs again.

"You’re gonna suck Daddy’s dick like a good girl." Paige said roughly, still stroking the dildo.

Azzi whimpered, her eyes fixed on the toy. "Yes, Daddy."

"Open your mouth."

Azzi obeyed, parting her lips, and Paige guided the head of the dildo to her mouth. It was cool against her tongue, the silicone smooth and firm.

"That's it," Paige said as Azzi took it deeper. "Take Daddy's dick in that pretty mouth. Show me how much you want it."

Azzi hollowed her cheeks and sucked, taking more of the length. It was big, almost too big, and she had to relax her jaw to accommodate it. She could feel it hitting the back of her throat, making her gag slightly, but she didn't pull away.

"Fuck, look at you," Paige groaned, her hand coming down to tangle in Azzi's hair again. "Look so fucking good with your mouth full of my dick."

Azzi moaned around the toy, the vibration making Paige's hips jerk forward. She pulled back to catch her breath, then took it again, deeper this time. Saliva was dripping down her chin, making a mess, but she didn't care.

"That's my girl," Paige praised. "Taking it so well. Think you can take more?"

Azzi nodded as much as she could with her mouth full, and Paige's grip on her hair tightened. She pushed Azzi's head down, forcing her to take more of the length, until Azzi was gagging and tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"Breathe through your nose," Paige instructed, holding her there. "Relax your throat."

Azzi tried, fighting against the urge to pull away, and after a moment she managed it. Paige held her there for a few more seconds, then let her pull back.

"Good fucking girl," Paige said, and the praise made Azzi's core clench. "You love sucking Daddy's dick, don't you?"

"Yes, Daddy," Azzi gasped, then took it back in her mouth, eager to please.

She bobbed her head, finding a rhythm, using her hand to stroke what she couldn't fit in her mouth. Paige was groaning above her, her hips rocking slightly, and Azzi could see the flush spreading across her chest, could see how turned on she was getting from this.

"Fuck, baby. You look so pretty like this. So fucking pretty with my dick in your mouth."

Azzi whimpered, the sound muffled, and sucked harder. She wanted to be good for Paige, wanted to make her proud, wanted to hear more of that praise.

"That's enough," Paige said finally, tugging Azzi's hair to pull her off. "As much as I love watching you suck my dick, I need to taste that pretty pussy."

Azzi's whole body trembled as Paige guided her back onto the couch, positioning her so she was lying back against the cushions. The firelight cast dancing shadows across Paige's face as she knelt between Azzi's spread legs, her hands running up the inside of Azzi's thighs, over the silk stockings.

"Look at you," Paige murmured, her fingers tracing the edge of the lace panties. "So fucking beautiful in this lingerie. Did you wear this just for Daddy?"

"Yes," Azzi breathed, her hips lifting slightly, seeking more contact.

Paige hooked her fingers into the waistband of the panties and slowly dragged them down Azzi's legs, taking her time, making Azzi wait. When she finally pulled them off completely, she held them up, examining the soaked fabric.

"Fuck, baby. You're dripping." Paige's voice was thick with desire. "All this just from sucking my dick?"

Azzi whimpered, her face flushing. "Please, Daddy."

"Please what?" Paige teased, running her fingers up Azzi's inner thighs again, deliberately avoiding where Azzi needed her most.

"Please touch me. Please, I need–"

"I know what you need," Paige said, finally letting her fingers trail through Azzi's wetness. "Jesus Christ, you're soaked. This pretty pussy is so wet for me."

Azzi's hips bucked at the contact, and Paige used her other hand to hold her down. "Stay still. Let Daddy take care of you."

She leaned in, her breath hot against Azzi's core, and Azzi's hands fisted in the couch cushions. When Paige's tongue finally made contact, Azzi cried out, her back arching off the couch.

"Fuck, Daddy!"

Paige hummed against her, the vibration sending shockwaves through Azzi's body. She started slow, broad strokes of her tongue, licking through Azzi's folds, tasting her. Then she focused on Azzi's clit, circling it with the tip of her tongue before sucking it into her mouth.

"Oh god, oh god," Azzi chanted, one hand coming down to tangle in Paige's hair. "Daddy, please."

Paige pulled back just enough to speak. "You taste so fucking good, baby. Could eat this pussy all night."

Then she dove back in, her tongue working Azzi's clit with focused intensity. She alternated between sucking and licking, finding the rhythm that made Azzi's thighs tremble. When she slid one finger inside, Azzi's whole body tensed.

"So tight," Paige murmured against her. "Even just one finger and you're squeezing me so hard."

She added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that made Azzi see stars. Her tongue never stopped working Azzi's clit, and the dual sensation was overwhelming.

"Daddy, I'm – I'm gonna–"

"Not yet," Paige commanded, slowing her movements. "Not until I say so."

Azzi whimpered, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. Paige's fingers continued their steady rhythm, and her tongue traced patterns on Azzi's clit that had her gasping.

"Do you love me?" Paige asked suddenly, her voice soft but intense.

"Yes," Azzi gasped immediately. "Yes, Daddy, I love you."

"Say it again."

"I love you," Azzi said, her voice breaking. "I love you so much."

Paige's fingers moved faster, her tongue pressing harder against Azzi's clit. "How much?"

"So much," Azzi sobbed, tears pricking at her eyes from the intensity of it all, the physical pleasure, the emotional weight of the words. "I love you so much, Daddy. Please, I need–"

"Come for me," Paige commanded, and Azzi shattered.

The orgasm ripped through her like lightning, her whole body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She cried out Paige's name – Daddy – over and over, her thighs clamping around Paige's head as she rode out the intensity.

When she finally came down, gasping and trembling, Paige pressed gentle kisses to her inner thighs, her fingers still inside, moving slowly.

"Thank you, Daddy," Azzi breathed, remembering the rule even through the haze.

"Such a good girl," Paige praised, slowly withdrawing her fingers. She brought them to her mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with Azzi. "Fucking delicious."

Azzi's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her body still tingling with aftershocks. But Paige wasn't done with her. Not even close.

"On your hands and knees," Paige ordered, her voice taking on that commanding edge that made Azzi's pussy clench. "Face the back of the couch."

Azzi's limbs felt like jelly, but she obeyed, turning over and positioning herself as instructed. The leather of the couch was cool against her palms and knees, and she could feel the remnants of her lingerie – the garter belt still around her waist, the stockings still clinging to her thighs.

She heard Paige move behind her, felt strong hands grip her hips, and then the blunt head of the strap pressed against her entrance.

"You ready for Daddy's dick, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy," Azzi breathed, pushing back slightly. "Please."

Paige entered her in one smooth thrust, and Azzi's arms nearly gave out. The angle was different like this, deeper, more intense. She felt so full, stretched around the thick silicone.

"Fuck," Paige groaned, her fingers digging into Azzi's hips. "Look at you taking all of me. Such a good fucking girl."

She started moving, slow at first, letting Azzi adjust to the depth. Each thrust pushed Azzi forward slightly, and she had to brace herself against the couch to keep from collapsing. The base of the strap rubbed against Paige's clit with every movement, and Azzi could hear her breathing getting heavier.

"Daddy," Azzi moaned, her head dropping forward. "Oh God, Daddy."

"That's right," Paige said, picking up the pace. "Let me hear you. Tell me how good it feels."

"So good," Azzi gasped as Paige's hips snapped forward harder. "Feels so fucking good, Daddy."

Paige's hand came down on Azzi's ass with a sharp crack, and Azzi cried out, the sting mixing with pleasure. "Who fucks you this good?"

"You do, Daddy!" Azzi's voice was high and desperate. "Only you!"

"Fucking right." Paige gripped Azzi's ass with both hands, spreading her open so she could watch the strap disappear inside her with each thrust. "Look at this pretty pussy taking my dick. So fucking perfect."

The pace increased, Paige fucking into her with steady, powerful strokes that had Azzi seeing stars. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the cabin, mixed with their moans and Azzi's increasingly desperate cries.

"Do you love how Daddy's dick feels?" Paige asked, her voice rough with exertion and arousal.

"Yes, Daddy!" Azzi sobbed. "I love it so much!"

"Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," Azzi gasped, her arms shaking with the effort of holding herself up. "All yours, Daddy. Only yours."

Paige leaned forward, her chest pressing against Azzi's back, changing the angle so the strap hit that perfect spot inside with every thrust. One hand came around to find Azzi's clit, rubbing tight circles that had Azzi's whole body tensing.

"Daddy, I'm – oh fuck, I'm gonna– "

"Come on my dick," Paige commanded, her hips pistoning faster. "Come for Daddy, baby."

The orgasm built differently this time – deeper, more intense, pressure building low in Azzi's belly. When it hit, it was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her whole body seized up, and then she was gushing, liquid spraying from her as she came harder than she ever had in her life.

"Holy fuck," Paige breathed, not stopping her movements, fucking Azzi through it as she squirted all over the strap, all over Paige's thighs, dripping onto the leather couch.

Azzi couldn't form words, could only make broken, desperate sounds as the orgasm seemed to go on forever. When it finally subsided, she collapsed forward, her whole body shaking.

"I – I'm sorry," Azzi gasped, mortification flooding through her as she realized what had happened. "I didn't mean to – I've never– "

"Don't you dare apologize," Paige said fiercely, gently pulling out and turning Azzi over so she could see her face. "That was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. Do you understand me? You're so fucking perfect."

Azzi's eyes were glassy with tears – from pleasure, from embarrassment, from the overwhelming intensity of it all. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered.

Paige kissed her deeply, thoroughly, pouring everything she felt into it. When she pulled back, her eyes were dark with desire. "We're not done yet, baby. I need to feel you come like that again."

Azzi's eyes widened. "I don't think I can–"

"You can," Paige assured her, helping her sit up. "And you will. But first, I have an idea."

She stood, her eyes scanning the cabin, and then she smiled – that dangerous smile that always meant Azzi was in for it. She walked over to where Christmas lights were strung along the mantle, unplugging one of the strands.

"What are you–" Azzi started, but then understanding dawned as Paige returned with the lights, the cord long and flexible in her hands.

"Trust me," Paige said, and Azzi did. She always did. "Lie down," she instructed, gesturing to the plush rug in front of the fireplace. "On your back."

Azzi's legs were still shaky, but she managed to move to the rug, the fire casting a warm glow over her skin. She lay back, watching as Paige knelt beside her, the strap still glistening with Azzi's release.

"Legs up," Paige said, and Azzi lifted them. She carefully wrapped the lights around Azzi's thighs, securing her legs to her shoulders, then wrapping around them her back to keep everything flat. The lights weren't tight or hot enough to hurt, but they were firm enough that Azzi couldn't straighten her legs. She was completely open, completely exposed, completely at Paige's mercy.

"Fuck," Azzi breathed, testing the restraints and finding she could barely move. "Daddy."

"You look so fucking beautiful like this," Paige said, running her hands over Azzi's thighs, her ass, her pussy. "All tied up for me. Can't go anywhere. Can't do anything but take what I give you."

She positioned herself between Azzi's legs, the head of the strap pressing against Azzi's entrance again. From this angle, Azzi could see everything – could see Paige's face, could see the strap about to enter her, could see her own body bound and waiting.

"Ready, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy," Azzi whispered.

Paige pushed in slowly, and the angle was so deep that Azzi gasped, her back arching off the rug. The restraints meant she couldn't adjust, couldn't move away from the intensity. She could only take it.

"Oh my god," Azzi moaned as Paige bottomed out inside her. "So deep, Daddy. You're so deep."

"I know," Paige said, her voice rough. She pulled back and thrust in again, watching Azzi's face contort with pleasure. "This is how I want you. Completely at my mercy. Unable to do anything but feel me fucking you."

She set a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing deep, hitting spots inside Azzi that made her see stars. The firelight danced across their skin, and Azzi could feel the heat of it mixing with the heat building inside her.

"You're taking me so well," Paige praised, her hands gripping Azzi's thighs for leverage. "Look at you, all tied up and helpless, taking Daddy's dick like you were made for it."

"I was," Azzi gasped. "Made for you, Daddy. Only you."

Paige leaned forward, changing the angle slightly, and Azzi cried out. "That's right. This pussy is mine. This body is mine. You're mine."

"Yours," Azzi agreed, tears streaming down her temples. "All yours."

The pace increased, Paige fucking into her with powerful, deliberate strokes. Azzi's hands scrabbled at the rug, trying to find purchase, trying to ground herself against the overwhelming sensation. But there was nowhere to go, nothing to do but feel.

"Look at me," Paige commanded, and Azzi's eyes snapped to hers. "I want to see your face when you come. Want to see what I do to you."

"Daddy," Azzi whimpered, feeling the pressure building again. "I'm close."

"I know, baby. I can feel you squeezing me." Paige's thumb found Azzi's clit, rubbing in time with her thrusts. "You're going to come so hard for me. Going to soak my dick again."

"Yes," Azzi sobbed. "Yes, Daddy, please."

"Tell me you love me," Paige demanded, her movements becoming more urgent. "Tell me you love me while I fuck you."

"I love you," Azzi cried out, her whole body tensing. "I love you, Daddy. I love you so much. I love–"

The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, and she was screaming, her body convulsing as much as the restraints would allow. It was intense, overwhelming, her pussy clenching rhythmically around the strap as pleasure consumed her.

"That's my girl," Paige groaned, fucking her through it. "So fucking beautiful when you come for me."

When Azzi finally came down, gasping and trembling, Paige slowed her movements but didn't stop, keeping her right on that edge.

"Thank you, Daddy," Azzi managed, her voice hoarse.

Paige smiled down at her, possessive and tender all at once. "We're not done yet, baby. I told you, I need to feel you squirt for me again."

Azzi's eyes widened at the sight of Paige kneeling in front of her ruined pussy. Her body already was oversensitive, but the look in Paige's eyes told her there was no negotiating this. And deep down, she didn't want to.

She was Paige's. Completely. And she'd give her everything.

"So tight," Paige murmured against her. "Even just one finger and you're squeezing me so hard."

She added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that made Azzi see stars. Her tongue never stopped working Azzi's clit, and the dual sensation was overwhelming.

"Daddy, I'm – I'm gonna–"

"Not yet," Paige commanded, slowing her movements. "Not until I say so."

Azzi whimpered, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. Paige's fingers continued their steady rhythm, and her tongue traced patterns on Azzi's clit that had her gasping.

"Do you love me?" Paige asked suddenly, her voice soft but intense.

"Yes," Azzi gasped immediately. "Yes, Daddy, I love you."

"Say it again."

"I love you," Azzi said, her voice breaking. "I love you so much."

Paige's fingers moved faster, her tongue pressing harder against Azzi's clit. "How much?"

"So much! I love you so much, Daddy! Please,” she begged.

"I know what you need." Paige's voice was rough. "Come for me, baby. Come on Daddy's tongue."

She sucked Azzi's clit hard, her fingers hitting that perfect spot inside, and Azzi shattered. Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, her whole body convulsing as she cried out. Paige worked her through it, her tongue gentling but not stopping, drawing out every last tremor.

When Azzi finally came down, she was shaking, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you, Daddy," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Paige kissed her way up Azzi's body, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "So good for me," she murmured. "Such a good girl."

Azzi was still catching her breath when Paige's hands started moving again, repositioning her. "On your hands and knees, baby. Want to see that pretty ass."

Azzi's limbs felt like jelly, but she obeyed, turning over and getting into position on the couch. The garter belt and stockings were still on, and she could feel Paige's gaze on her, hot and possessive.

"Fuck," Paige breathed, her hands running over Azzi's ass, squeezing. "You look so fucking good like this."

She spread Azzi's legs wider, and Azzi felt exposed, vulnerable, and so incredibly turned on. When Paige's fingers slid through her wetness again, she moaned.

"Still so wet," Paige said, sliding two fingers inside easily. "Think you can take more?"

"Yes, Daddy," Azzi gasped, pushing back against Paige's hand.

Paige added a third finger, and the stretch made Azzi cry out. It was almost too much, but in the best way. Paige's fingers filled her completely, and when she started moving them, Azzi's arms nearly gave out.

"That's it," Paige encouraged, her other hand coming around to find Azzi's clit. "Take Daddy's fingers. You're doing so good, baby."

The dual stimulation had Azzi's head spinning. Paige's fingers were hitting that perfect spot inside her with every thrust, and the pressure on her clit was building another orgasm embarrassingly fast.

"Daddy," Azzi whimpered. "Feels so good."

"Yeah? You like when Daddy fucks you with her fingers?"

"Yes, yes, I love it."

Then Paige's fingers slowed, and Azzi felt her shift position. She was about to protest when she felt Paige's tongue, not on her pussy, but lower. On her ass.

"Oh fuck," Azzi gasped, her whole body tensing. "Daddy!"

"Relax," Paige murmured, her breath hot against Azzi's skin. "Let Daddy make you feel good."

Her tongue circled Azzi's hole, teasing, and Azzi's mind went blank. She'd never felt anything like this before. Paige's fingers were still inside her, still rubbing her clit, and now her tongue was doing things that made Azzi's toes curl.

"Holy shit," Azzi moaned, her face pressed into the couch cushions. "Daddy, oh my god."

Paige's tongue pressed harder, the tip breaching slightly, and Azzi nearly came right then. The sensation was overwhelming – Paige's fingers pumping into her pussy, her thumb working her clit, and her tongue doing absolutely sinful things to her ass.

"You taste so fucking good everywhere," Paige said, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in.

Her tongue was relentless, licking and sucking and pressing, while her fingers maintained their steady rhythm. Azzi was making sounds she'd never made before, completely lost in the pleasure.

"Daddy, I'm gonna – please, can I–"

"Come for me," Paige commanded, her voice muffled. "Come all over Daddy's fingers."

Her tongue pressed hard against Azzi's hole at the same moment her fingers hit that perfect spot, and Azzi came with a scream. Her whole body shook, her pussy clenching around Paige's fingers, and the orgasm seemed to go on forever.

"Thank you, Daddy," Azzi sobbed when she could finally speak. "Thank you, thank you."

Paige gently withdrew her fingers and helped Azzi turn over, pulling her into her arms. "You're doing so good, baby. So fucking good for me."

Azzi was trembling, overwhelmed, but when she looked up at Paige, she saw nothing but love and desire in her eyes. "I love you," Azzi whispered.

"I love you too," Paige said, kissing her softly. Then her expression turned wicked. "But we're not done yet. Think you can ride Daddy's dick?"

Azzi's core clenched at the words, arousal flooding through her despite having just come twice. "Yes, Daddy."

Paige sat back on the couch, the strap jutting up from her hips, and Azzi's breath caught. It looked even bigger from this angle, thick and long, and she wasn't sure she could take it all.

"Come here," Paige said, patting her thighs. "Straddle me."

Azzi climbed onto Paige's lap on shaky legs, positioning herself over the toy. Paige's hands came to her hips, steadying her.

"Take your time," Paige said softly. "Go as slow as you need."

Azzi reached down, positioning the head of the strap at her entrance. She was soaking wet, but it was still a stretch as she started to sink down. The head pushed inside, and she gasped at the sensation.

"That's it," Paige encouraged. "Take Daddy's dick. Nice and slow."

Azzi lowered herself another inch, then another, her body adjusting to the size. It was so much, filling her completely, stretching her in a way that bordered on too much but felt incredible.

"Halfway there, baby. You're doing so good."

Azzi whimpered, her hands gripping Paige's shoulders for support. She took more, feeling impossibly full, and when she finally sank all the way down, they both groaned.

"Fuck," Paige breathed. "Look at you, taking all of Daddy's dick. So fucking perfect."

Azzi sat there for a moment, adjusting to the fullness. She felt split open, claimed, completely at Paige's mercy. When she finally started to move, lifting up and sinking back down, they both moaned.

"That's my girl," Paige said, her hands moving to grip Azzi's ass, helping guide her movements. "Ride it. Show me how much you love it."

Azzi found a rhythm, rolling her hips, taking the strap deep with every movement. The angle hit something perfect inside her, and she could feel another orgasm building already.

"Do you love Daddy's dick?" Paige asked, her voice rough.

"Yes," Azzi gasped. "I love it, Daddy. Love how you fill me up."

"Yeah? Love how I fuck you?"

"Yes, yes, I love how you fuck me." Azzi was bouncing faster now, chasing her pleasure. "Love everything you do to me."

Paige's grip on her ass tightened, and she started thrusting up to meet Azzi's movements, driving the strap even deeper. "That's right. This pussy belongs to Daddy, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Daddy," Azzi cried out. "It's yours. I'm yours."

"Damn right you are." Paige pulled Azzi down for a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans. "My perfect girl. Taking my dick so well."

Azzi was close, so close, the pressure building low in her belly. "Daddy, please, I need–"

"Touch yourself," Paige commanded. "Make yourself come on Daddy's dick."

Azzi's hand flew to her clit, rubbing frantically, and within seconds she was coming, her pussy clenching around the strap as she cried out Paige's name – no, Daddy's name.

"Thank you, Daddy," she gasped when she could speak again, slumping forward against Paige's chest. "Thank you."

"One more. I need one more from you." Paige said, her voice softer now but still commanding.

Azzi's entire body felt like it was made of liquid, and she whimpered at the thought of coming again. "I don't know if I can–"

"You can," Paige assured her. "And you will. Because you're my good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Then come sit on my face. Ride Daddy's tongue until you come one more time."

Azzi's pussy clenched at the words, despite how oversensitive she already was. She positioned herself over Paige's face, her thighs on either side of Paige's head, hovering uncertainly.

"Don't hover," Paige said, her hands gripping Azzi's ass and pulling her down firmly. "I want all of you. Smother me with this pretty pussy."

The first touch of Paige's tongue made Azzi cry out. She was so sensitive that it almost hurt, but Paige was gentle at first, licking broad strokes through her folds, avoiding her clit.

"That's it," Paige murmured against her. "Use me, baby. Grind on my face. Take what you need."

Azzi started moving her hips tentatively, rolling them in slow circles. Paige's tongue was everywhere – dipping inside her, licking around her entrance, flattening against her to give her more pressure.

"Daddy," Azzi sobbed, her hands reaching up to play with her own breasts, pinching her nipples through what remained of the lingerie.

Paige's grip on her ass tightened, encouraging her to move faster. One hand slid between Azzi's cheeks, a finger circling her back entrance teasingly, and Azzi gasped at the sensation.

"You like that?" Paige asked, her words muffled against Azzi's pussy. "Like when Daddy plays with your ass while I eat you out?"

"Yes, Daddy," Azzi moaned, grinding down harder. "Feels so good."

Paige's tongue found her clit then, circling it slowly before sucking it into her mouth. At the same time, she pressed her finger inside Azzi's ass, just to the first knuckle, and Azzi nearly came apart right then.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck–" Azzi chanted, her hips moving frantically now, chasing her pleasure. She was riding Paige's face without restraint, using her for exactly what Paige had told her to.

Paige moaned beneath her, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation. Her tongue worked Azzi's clit relentlessly while her finger moved in and out of her ass in a steady rhythm. Her other hand squeezed and kneaded Azzi's ass cheek, occasionally delivering a sharp slap that made Azzi jerk and moan.

"I'm gonna come," Azzi sobbed, tears streaming down her face from the overwhelming intensity. "Daddy, I'm gonna – I can't–"

"Come for Daddy," Paige commanded, her voice muffled but clear. "Come all over my face. Give me everything."

The orgasm hit Azzi like a freight train. Her whole body seized up, and then she was gushing, squirting directly onto Paige's face and into her mouth. It was the most intense orgasm yet, and Azzi couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop the words tumbling from her lips.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Daddy–" she sobbed, her body convulsing with wave after wave of pleasure. "Thank you, Daddy. Thank you. I love you so much–"

Paige didn't stop, didn't let up, drawing out every last tremor until Azzi's vision started to blur at the edges. The world tilted sideways, and the last thing Azzi was aware of was Paige's strong arms catching her as everything went dark.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Paige felt the exact moment Azzi went limp, and her heart jumped into her throat even as she carefully guided Azzi's body down onto the rug beside her.

"Baby?" she said softly, checking Azzi's pulse – strong and steady. And her breathing was even and deep. Relief flooded through her. Azzi had just passed out from the intensity, overwhelmed by pleasure and exhaustion.

Paige grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around Azzi's naked body, then gently cleaned her face with the edge of the blanket, wiping away the tears and the evidence of her pleasure. She retrieved a warm, damp washcloth from the bathroom and tenderly cleaned between Azzi's legs, careful not to wake her.

Once Azzi was clean and comfortable, Paige gathered her into her arms and settled back against the couch, holding her close. The fire crackled beside them, casting dancing shadows across Azzi's peaceful face.

Paige looked down at the woman in her arms – this beautiful, strong, resilient woman who'd been through so much and still managed to trust Paige with everything. Her heart felt so full it might burst.

She thought about the first time she'd seen Azzi, exhausted and trying so hard to hide it, serving breakfast with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She'd been drawn to her immediately, but it was more than just physical attraction. There was something about Azzi, a quiet strength, a determination to survive despite everything life had thrown at her, that called to something deep in Paige's soul.

Paige had money. She had success. She had built an empire from the ground up, and she was proud of that. But none of it meant anything if she didn't have someone to share it with. And she didn't want just anyone. She wanted Azzi.

She wanted to wake up next to her every morning. She wanted to support her dreams, watch her graduate, see her build whatever life she wanted for herself. She wanted to give Azzi everything she'd been denied – security, stability, unconditional love and support.

She wanted to marry her.

The thought had been growing in Paige's mind for months now, becoming more solid and certain with each passing day. She'd already started looking at rings, imagining the proposal. She'd wait until Azzi graduated, let her finish school, prove to herself that she could do it, that she was more than what her family had told her she was.

And then Paige would ask her to spend the rest of their lives together.

She imagined it sometimes, late at night when Azzi was asleep beside her. A house, not as big as Paige's current place, something cozier, more like a home. Maybe a dog, since Azzi had mentioned once that she'd always wanted one but never had the stability for it. Lazy Sunday mornings and inside jokes and growing old together.

Paige had never wanted that before. She'd been too focused on building her business, on proving herself, on success. But Azzi made her want different things. Softer things. A life that wasn't just about achievement but about love and partnership and building something together.

Azzi stirred slightly in her arms, making a small sound, and Paige pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I've got you," she whispered. "Always."

The fire popped and crackled, and outside the windows, snow had started to fall again, blanketing the world in white. Inside the cabin, wrapped in warmth and firelight, Paige held the woman she loved and let herself imagine their future.

It was going to be beautiful.

Azzi's breathing remained deep and even, her face peaceful in sleep. The remnants of her Mrs. Claus lingerie were scattered across the floor, the Christmas lights they'd used as restraints still twinkling on the couch. The whole scene was debauched and perfect and theirs.

Paige adjusted the blanket around Azzi, making sure she was completely covered and warm. She could feel Azzi's heartbeat against her chest, steady and strong, and it filled her with a contentment she'd never known before.

This was what mattered. Not the hotels or the money or the success. This – holding the woman she loved, knowing she was safe and cared for and cherished. Knowing that Azzi loved her back, that she'd chosen Paige despite all her fears and walls and reasons to run.

"I love you," Paige whispered into Azzi's hair. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt that."

The fire burned low, casting a golden glow over them both. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but inside the cabin, wrapped in each other's arms, they had everything they needed.

Paige closed her eyes, holding Azzi close, and let herself drift in the warmth and peace of the moment. Tomorrow they'd wake up together, make breakfast, maybe go for a walk in the snow. They had the whole week ahead of them, just the two of them in this perfect little bubble.

But for now, this was enough. More than enough.

This was everything.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The door to Paige's apartment barely closed before Azzi found herself pressed against it, Paige's mouth hot and demanding against her neck.

Azzi sat in her car outside Paige's apartment building for ten minutes before she could bring herself to move.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as guilt and desire waged their familiar war inside her chest. She'd told Andrew she was going to Target – needed to exchange some of the kids' gifts, pick up a few things they'd forgotten. He'd kissed her cheek, told her to drive safe, asked if she could grab more coffee while she was out. The ease of his trust made her stomach twist.

But then she thought of Paige. Of the way Paige had looked at her across the Christmas dinner table, blue eyes dark with barely restrained jealousy every time Andrew touched her. Of the text that had come through an hour ago

P 💗: I need you. Now.

Azzi had made her excuses and left within fifteen minutes.

She finally forced herself out of the car, heart pounding as she rode the elevator up to the third floor. By the time she reached Paige's door, her hands were shaking. She knocked twice, then once – their signal – and the door swung open almost immediately.

Paige's eyes were stormy, her jaw tight. She grabbed Azzi's wrist and pulled her inside.

"Do you have any idea," Paige growled, her hands already working at the buttons of Azzi's blouse. "How fucking hard it was to watch you play house with him all day?"

Azzi's breath hitched as Paige's teeth grazed her pulse point. "Paige –"

"Watching you smile at him. Laugh at his jokes. Let him touch you." Paige's voice was rough with barely contained emotion, each word punctuated with another button coming undone. "Watching him kiss you in the kitchen when he thought no one was looking. Watching him put his arm around you on the couch like he has any right to you. Watching you sit there with Frankie on your lap and the twins climbing all over both of you, playing perfect little family while I had to sit across the room and pretend my heart wasn't being ripped out of my chest."

"Baby, I'm sorry –" Azzi started, but Paige cut her off.

"Do you know what the worst part was?" Paige pulled back just enough to look Azzi in the eyes, her own glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "Listening to the kids call you 'Mommy' and him 'Daddy' like you're this unit. Like you belong together. When I know, I know, that you come to me every chance you get. That you moan my name when you come. That it's my touch you crave."

Azzi's blouse fell open, and Paige's hands immediately went to her waist, fingers digging into soft skin as she pulled Azzi flush against her. "I need you to remember who you belong to," Paige murmured, her voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "Need to feel you. Need to hear you say it."

"Yours," Azzi breathed, already losing herself in the heat of Paige's touch. "I'm yours, Paige. Always yours."

Paige's hands slid up Azzi's sides, pushing the blouse off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers found the clasp of Azzi's bra, unhooking it with practiced ease. When the lace fell away, Paige's breath caught.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispered, her earlier anger melting into something softer, more reverent. Her hands cupped Azzi's breasts, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples. "So fucking perfect."

Azzi arched into the touch, her own hands fumbling with the hem of Paige's shirt. "Off," she demanded breathlessly. "Need to see you. Need to touch you."

Paige stepped back just enough to pull her shirt over her head, revealing toned abs and strong shoulders that made Azzi's mouth water. She wasn't wearing a bra, and Azzi couldn't help the small moan that escaped her lips at the sight.

They stumbled down the hallway together, a tangle of desperate hands and hungry mouths. Paige's fingers worked at the button of Azzi's jeans, popping it open and dragging the zipper down with agonizing slowness. Azzi kicked off her shoes, then shimmied out of the denim, leaving her in just her panties – lilac lace that Paige had bought her months ago.

"You wore these for me," Paige said, her voice thick with desire as her fingers traced the delicate fabric. "Even knowing you'd be sitting next to him all day. Even knowing he might see them."

"I always wear what you buy me," Azzi confessed, her cheeks flushing. "I think about you every time I get dressed. Every time I feel the lace against my skin."

Paige groaned, capturing Azzi's mouth in a searing kiss as they finally reached the bedroom. She pulled back from their kiss, taking a step away from the wo9man she loved, smirking at the way Azzi’s eyes glazed over.

"You like what you see, baby?" Paige asked, a hint of smugness creeping into her voice despite the emotion still swimming in her eyes.

"You know I do," Azzi said, reaching out to trace the defined lines of Paige's stomach. "You're so strong. So gorgeous. I love your body."

Paige caught Azzi's hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss her palm before guiding it lower, pressing it against the front of her jeans. "Feel what you do to me," she murmured. "Feel how much I need you."

Azzi could feel the heat even through the denim, and it made her core clench with want. Her fingers worked at Paige's button and zipper, desperate to eliminate every barrier between them. Paige helped, shoving her jeans down her long legs and kicking them aside.

They came together again, skin against skin, and the contact made them both gasp. Paige walked Azzi backward toward the bed, their mouths meeting in a deep, claiming kiss. Azzi's hands roamed over Paige's back, her shoulders, memorizing every plane and curve.

When they reached the bed, Paige's eyes raked over her body with an intensity that made Azzi shiver. She just stood there, drinking in the sight of Azzi spread out before her – dark hair fanned across the pillows, chest heaving, skin flushed with arousal. Her eyes traced every curve, every dip and swell of Azzi's body.

"You're a fucking masterpiece," Paige breathed, her hands going to the button of her own jeans. "Look at you. These hips." Her eyes lingered on the curve of Azzi's waist. "These thighs. And your tits, baby. Fuck. They're perfect. You're perfect."

Azzi squirmed under the intensity of Paige's gaze, heat pooling between her legs. "Paige, please. I need you."

"I know baby. I’ll give you what you need," Paige said, standing before Azzi in just her boxer briefs. She moved to her nightstand, pulling open the drawer with deliberate slowness. When she turned back, she was holding the harness and the dildo, the special one, the one that was noticeably bigger than what Azzi was used to.

Azzi's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "That one?"

"Yeah, baby. This one." Paige held it up, letting Azzi see the size of it, the realistic texture. "You remember how full this makes you feel? How deep it goes?"

Azzi nodded, unable to form words. She watched, transfixed, as Paige stepped into the harness, pulling it up her long legs and settling it against her hips. The muscles in her thighs flexed as she adjusted the straps, tightening them with practiced efficiency. She attached the dildo with a soft click, and Azzi felt a fresh rush of wetness between her thighs at the sight of Paige standing there, powerful and commanding, the thick silicone jutting from her hips.

"This is bigger than him, isn't it?" Paige asked, her voice low and dangerous as she moved toward the bed. "Tell me, Azzi. Tell me how much bigger I am."

Azzi's mouth went dry. "So much bigger," she whispered. "You fill me up in ways he never could. You reach places he doesn't even know exist."

Paige's eyes darkened with possessive satisfaction. "That's right. Because this body?" She climbed onto the bed, settling between Azzi's thighs. "This pussy? It was made for me. Not him. Me."

"Yes," Azzi breathed, reaching up to pull Paige down into a kiss. "Only you, Paige. It's only ever been you."

"I want to mark you," Paige said, her voice rough with desire. "Want to leave bruises where only I'll see them. Where he'll never look." Her hands slid up the inside of Azzi's thighs, spreading them apart. "Here," she murmured, pressing her thumb against the sensitive skin. "And here." Her mouth followed, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

Azzi whimpered, her hips lifting off the bed. "Yes, please. Mark me. Make me yours."

Paige worked her way up Azzi's inner thighs, leaving a trail of marks that would bloom into purple bruises by morning. Each one sent a fresh wave of arousal through Azzi's body, the possessiveness of the act making her dizzy with want.

Paige reached for the small remote on the nightstand, clicking it once. The toy hummed to life, vibrating gently, and Azzi could see the moment the vibrations reached Paige too, the way her breath hitched slightly.

"And this one," Paige continued, clicking another button, "warms up, remember? Gets hot inside you. So you know I'm really inside you, really claiming you."

Azzi's hips lifted involuntarily at the thought. "Please," she whimpered. "Please, Paige. I need it. Need you."

Paige climbed onto the bed, settling between Azzi's spread thighs. The head of the toy pressed against Azzi's entrance, and they both groaned at the contact. "Not yet," Paige said, her voice strained with her own need. "First, you're going to warm my dick. Going to sit here with me inside you and remember who owns this body. Who this pussy belongs to."

"You know what I need tonight?" Paige asked, climbing onto the bed and settling between Azzi's spread thighs. She ran her hands up Azzi's legs, her touch possessive. "I need to feel you wrapped around me. Need to be inside what's mine."

"I am yours," Azzi breathed, reaching for her.

Paige caught her wrists, pinning them gently above her head. "I know you are, baby. And I'm going to make sure you remember it too." She leaned down, kissing Azzi deeply before trailing her lips down her neck, between her breasts, across her stomach. "Every time he touches you, I want you thinking about this. About me. About who really owns this body. Who this pussy belongs to."

"Paige, please," Azzi whimpered, her hips lifting again, still seeking friction.

"Please what?" Paige's fingers hooked into Azzi's panties, dragging them down her legs. "Tell me what you need. Tell me what you want me to do to my pussy."

"Need you inside me. Need to feel you."

Paige groaned at the desperation in Azzi's voice. She positioned herself, running the head of the warm, vibrating dildo through Azzi's wetness. "You're so fucking wet for me already. Does he ever get you this wet?"

"No," Azzi gasped. "Never. My pussy only gets this wet for you, Paige. Only ever you."

"That's my good girl." Paige pushed inside slowly, watching Azzi's face as she stretched around the considerable girth. "Fuck, you take me so well. So much better than you take him, don't you?"

Azzi could only moan in response, her back arching as Paige filled her completely. The warmth and vibration of the dildo sent sparks of pleasure through her entire body, and the stretch, God, the stretch was perfect, overwhelming, exactly what she needed.

"Answer me," Paige demanded, though her voice was strained with her own pleasure as the base of the dildo pressed and vibrated against her clit. "You take me better than him, don't you?"

"Yes!" Azzi cried out. "So much better. You're so much bigger, Paige. You fill me up so perfectly. He could never–"

"Never what?" Paige stilled completely, buried deep inside her.

"Never make me feel like this," Azzi finished, her eyes locked on Paige's. "Never make me feel complete."

Paige's expression softened for just a moment before the possessive hunger returned. "I'm not going to move yet," she said, settling her weight more fully against Azzi, her hips pressing forward until every inch was seated deep. "I'm going to stay right here, deep inside you, and my pussy is going to warm my dick while I tell you exactly what I want."

Azzi whimpered, her inner walls clenching involuntarily around the dildo. The constant warmth radiating from it felt like liquid heat spreading through her core, and the vibrations, low and steady, were already driving her crazy. She could feel every ridge, every inch of the thick silicone stretching her wider than she'd ever been stretched before. The fullness was almost too much, bordering on overwhelming, and Paige wasn't even moving yet.

"I want to get you pregnant," Paige said bluntly, her eyes boring into Azzi's with an intensity that stole her breath. "I want to fuck you so full of my cum that you have no choice but to leave him. I want everyone to know that the baby growing inside you is mine."

"Paige," Azzi moaned, her hips trying to move, seeking friction, relief, anything, but Paige held her still with strong hands on her hips.

"No, baby. Stay still. Keep me warm and listen to me." Paige's voice was commanding, but there was a tremor in it, emotion barely contained. "I think about it all the time. I think about your belly growing round with my baby. I think about your breasts getting fuller, your body changing because of what I put inside you."

The heat of the dildo seemed to intensify, or maybe it was just Azzi's body responding to Paige's words, her internal temperature rising with desire and impossible longing. The vibrations pulsed steadily against her most sensitive spots, and she had to fight to keep still, to not rock her hips and chase the orgasm already building low in her belly.

"I imagine watching you pregnant," Paige continued, her own breathing growing ragged as the base of the dildo vibrated against her clit. "Seeing you walk around with my baby inside you. Touching your belly and feeling our child kick. I want that so fucking bad, Azzi. I want to be the one who did that to you."

"I want that too," Azzi whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. The confession hurt almost as much as the pleasure building in her core. "God, Paige, I want to give you that. I want to give you everything."

"Tell me," Paige said, shifting slightly, the movement making them both gasp as the dildo pressed deeper, the warmth and vibration intensifying. "Tell me what you'd want. If we could, if this was real, what would you want?"

Azzi's mind spun, caught between the physical sensations overwhelming her body and the emotional weight of the conversation. She was so full, stretched so perfectly around Paige's strap, the heat of it making her feel like she was melting from the inside out. "I'd want–" she gasped, her walls fluttering around the dildo. "I'd want to give you a daughter. A little girl with your eyes and my hair. Your smile with my dimples."

Paige groaned, her hips pressing forward involuntarily. "Fuck, baby. What would we name her?"

"I don't know," Azzi breathed, her hands sliding up Paige's strong arms, feeling the muscles tense with the effort of staying still. "What would you want to name her?"

"Something strong," Paige said, her voice rough. "Something beautiful. Like you." She shifted again, just slightly, and Azzi cried out at the sensation. "I think about Frankie and the boys asking about a new baby. I think about telling them they're going to have a little sister or brother. I think about them being excited, about all of us being a family."

The image was so vivid, so painfully beautiful, that Azzi felt her heart crack open. "Paige, I–" Her voice broke and tears filled her eyes. "I wish I could give you that. I wish this was our life."

"I know, baby. I know." Paige's forehead dropped to rest against Azzi's, their breath mingling. "But right now, in this moment, you're mine. This pussy is mine. And I'm going to fuck you like I'm trying to put a baby in you, even if we both know I can't."

Azzi clenched hard around the dildo at those words, the vibrations and heat combining with the fullness to push her dangerously close to the edge. "Please," she whimpered. "Please, Paige. I need–"

"What do you need?" Paige asked, still not moving, keeping Azzi impaled on her dick.

"Need you to move. Need you to make me come. Need you to fuck me. Need to feel you claiming my pussy."

"You mean my pussy," Paige corrected, her voice dark with possession. "This isn't your pussy anymore, baby. It's mine. My shit. And I'll decide when it gets to come."

Azzi sobbed with need, her body trembling with the effort of staying still while every nerve ending screamed for movement, for friction, for release. The warmth of the dildo had spread through her entire lower body, and the constant vibration was maddening. She'd never felt so full, so owned, so completely at someone else's mercy.

"Say it," Paige demanded. "Tell me who this pussy belongs to."

"You," Azzi gasped. "It belongs to you, Paige. My pussy is yours. All of me is yours."

"And if I could get you pregnant?" Paige asked, finally – finally – starting to move in slow, shallow thrusts that had them both gasping. "If I could fill you up with my cum and watch your belly grow with my baby, would you let me?"

"Yes," Azzi cried, beyond caring about reality or impossibility or anything except the feeling of Paige inside her, claiming her, owning her. "Yes, I'd let you. I'd want you to. I'd want everyone to know this baby was yours."

"Fuck," Paige groaned, her control visibly fraying. "You're so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect. Taking my dick so well. Letting me fill up my pussy."

The possessive words, combined with the increasing pace of Paige's thrusts and the relentless heat and vibration of the dildo, pushed Azzi closer and closer to the edge. She was so full, fuller than she'd ever been, and every stroke hit spots inside her that made her see stars.

"Paige," she moaned, her nails digging into Paige's shoulders. "I'm getting close. I'm so close."

"I know, baby," Paige said, her own voice strained with pleasure. "I can feel you getting tighter around my dick. But you don't come until I say so. Understand?"

"I know we can't," Paige continued, her voice rough with emotion and desire. "I know it's not possible. But fuck, Azzi, I want it so bad. I want you to be mine in every way. I want to wake up with you every morning. I want to put my babies in you. I want the whole fucking world to know you belong to me. That this pussy belongs to me."

"I do belong to you," Azzi gasped, tears pricking at her eyes from the intensity of emotion and the overwhelming sensation of being so full while unable to move. "My heart belongs to you, Paige. My body belongs to you. All of me."

"Say it again," Paige demanded, finally starting to move in slow, deep strokes that had them both gasping.

"I'm yours," Azzi moaned. "I belong to you, Paige. Only you."

Paige's control snapped. She began thrusting harder, faster, the vibrations and warmth of the dildo driving them both toward the edge. "That's right, baby. You're mine. This pussy is mine. My shit. Every orgasm you have is mine."

"Yes, yes, yes," Azzi chanted, her nails digging into Paige's shoulders as pleasure built rapidly in her core. The combination of Paige's words, the fullness, the vibrations. It was too much and not enough all at once.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this," Paige groaned, her own pleasure building from the pressure and vibration against her clit. "Taking me so well. Being such a good girl for me. You're perfect, Azzi. So perfect. And this pussy? Fuck, this is my pussy. Mine."

The praise sent Azzi spiraling. "Paige, I'm going to–"

"You think I should let my pussy come?" Paige demanded, her voice rough with possession. "You think you deserve it?"

"Please," Azzi begged. "Please, Paige. I need it."

"Come for me," Paige commanded. "Come on my dick and tell me who you belong to. Tell me whose pussy this is."

Azzi's orgasm crashed over her like a wave. "Yours! I'm yours, Paige! I belong to you! It's your pussy!"

"Fuck, yes," Paige groaned, but she didn't stop moving, didn't let Azzi come down from her high. "That's one. I want more. I want you to come so many times you forget his name."

"Paige, it's too much," Azzi whimpered, oversensitive but unable to deny how good it felt.

"You can take it," Paige assured her, adjusting the angle so the dildo hit that perfect spot inside her with every thrust. "You're doing so well, baby. So fucking good for me. I love watching you fall apart like this."

Azzi's second orgasm built faster than the first, the constant stimulation keeping her right on the edge. Paige's words of praise mixed with possessive declarations had her head spinning.

"I wish I could really breed you," Paige panted, her movements becoming more erratic as her own orgasm approached. "Wish I could fill you up with my cum and watch your belly grow with my baby. Would you like that, Azzi? Would you like to carry my child?"

"Yes!" Azzi sobbed, beyond caring how impossible it was. "Would love it so bad, Paige. Want to be yours completely. Want everyone to know."

"You're going to come again," Paige told her, reaching between them to circle Azzi's clit with her thumb. "And this time, I'm coming with you."

The pressure built and built until Azzi was trembling, desperate, right on the precipice. "Paige, please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Please, I need to come. I need it so bad. Please let me come."

"You think I should let my pussy come again?" Paige demanded, slowing her thrusts just enough to keep Azzi teetering on the edge. "Ask me properly. Beg me to let my pussy come."

"Please, Paige," Azzi whimpered, tears of desperation gathering in her eyes. "Please let your pussy come. I'm yours. It's yours. Please, I need permission. Please let me come on your dick."

The added stimulation was exactly what Azzi needed. Her second orgasm hit her even harder than the first, her entire body shaking with the force of it. "I'm yours, Paige! I belong to you!"

Paige's own orgasm followed immediately, the vibrations and pressure finally pushing her over the edge. She buried herself deep inside Azzi, grinding against her as waves of pleasure washed over her. "Mine," she groaned. "All mine."

They stayed like that for a long moment, both trembling and gasping for breath. Paige held Azzi close, feeling the aftershocks ripple through her body, pressing soft kisses to her temple as they both came down from the high.

"I've got you," Paige murmured, her voice tender now. "I've got you, baby."

Slowly, carefully, Paige withdrew, her hands gentle as she steadied Azzi through the sensitivity. She turned off the vibrations and unclipped the harness, setting it aside before returning to Azzi with a warm washcloth she'd prepared earlier.

"Let me take care of you," Paige said softly, cleaning Azzi with gentle strokes, her touch reverent. Azzi's eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness, at how loved Paige always made her feel in these moments.

When she was done, Paige tossed the cloth aside and gathered Azzi into her arms, pulling the blanket over them both. They lay tangled together, skin to skin, heartbeats gradually slowing to match each other's rhythm.

"I love you," Paige whispered against Azzi's mouth, her fingers tracing patterns on Azzi's hip. "I love you so fucking much it scares me sometimes."

"I love you too," Azzi replied, her voice thick with emotion. "More than anything. More than I ever thought possible."

They kissed slowly, deeply, the urgency replaced by tenderness. But as they touched and tasted each other, the heat began building again. Paige's hand slid between Azzi's thighs, finding her still wet and sensitive.

They kissed slowly, deeply, the urgency replaced by tenderness. Paige's hands roamed Azzi's body with a different kind of hunger now, not desperate, but worshipful. She traced the curve of Azzi's waist, the swell of her breast, memorizing every inch of her.

"I hate that you have to leave," Paige admitted quietly, her forehead resting against Azzi's. "Every time you walk out that door, it gets harder."

Azzi's chest tightened. "I know. God, Paige, I know. It kills me too." Her voice cracked. "Sometimes I sit in my car for twenty minutes before I can make myself drive home. I just sit there thinking about coming back up here, staying with you."

"Why don't you?" Paige asked, though they both knew the answer. "Just stay. One night. Let him wonder where you are."

"The kids," Azzi whispered. "Frankie would notice. She's already asking why I'm gone so much." Tears pricked at her eyes. "I'm a terrible mother. A terrible person."

"Hey, no." Paige cupped Azzi's face, forcing her to meet her eyes. "You're an incredible mother. Those kids are lucky to have you. And you're not terrible. You're just – you're in an impossible situation."

"That I created," Azzi said bitterly.

"That we created," Paige corrected. "Together. And yeah, it's messy and complicated and probably wrong by every conventional standard. But Azzi," She pressed a kiss to Azzi's lips. "I can't regret this. I can't regret us."

"I don't either," Azzi admitted. "That's what makes it so hard. I should regret it. I should feel worse than I do. But when I'm with you, everything just feels right."

As they talked, their hands continued to wander, the conversation and touch intertwining. Paige's fingers traced down Azzi's spine, and Azzi's hand slid along Paige's thigh. The heat between them began building again, slower this time but no less intense.

"I think about the future sometimes," Paige said, her voice low as her hand moved to cup Azzi's breast, thumb brushing over her nipple. "About what it would be like if we didn't have to hide."

"What do you imagine?" Azzi asked, her breath hitching as Paige's touch sent sparks through her.

"Waking up next to you every morning. Not just stolen hours, but whole days. Whole lives." Paige's hand slid lower, between Azzi's thighs, finding her still wet and sensitive. "Taking you out to dinner. Holding your hand in public. Coming home to you."

Azzi moaned softly, her own hand moving to Paige's center, finding her just as ready. "That sounds perfect."

"One more," Paige murmured against Azzi's lips. "I need one more, baby. Need to feel my pussy come apart for me again."

"Only if you come apart with me," Azzi breathed, her fingers circling Paige's clit with practiced precision.

They touched each other with practiced ease, knowing exactly what the other needed. Their mouths met in messy, desperate kisses as they worked each other higher and higher. But this time was different – slower, more intimate, more emotional.

"You're so wet," Azzi moaned against Paige's lips. "So perfect. I love making you feel good. Love knowing I do this to you."

"You always make me feel good," Paige gasped, her hips rocking into Azzi's touch. "You're so good to me, baby. So fucking good. The best thing that's ever happened to me."

"You make me feel alive," Azzi confessed, her voice breaking with emotion even as pleasure built inside her. "Like I'm finally myself. Like I finally know who I'm supposed to be."

"You're supposed to be mine," Paige said, her fingers moving faster, more insistent. "You're supposed to be with me. We're supposed to be together."

They praised each other breathlessly as their orgasms built, their movements becoming more urgent. Azzi could feel Paige trembling against her, could feel her own body coiling tight with impending release. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, everything else fell away. The guilt, the complications, the impossibility of it all. There was only this, only them, only love.

"Together," Paige panted. "Come with me, Azzi. I love you. God, I love you so much."

"I love you," Azzi cried out as her orgasm crashed over her. "I love you, Paige. I love you."

They came together, their bodies shaking, their voices mingling as they called out their love for each other. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, the physical pleasure intertwined with emotional release. Tears streamed down both their faces as they held each other through it, as they whispered "I love you" over and over like a prayer, like a promise, like the only truth that mattered.

When they finally stilled, they stayed wrapped around each other, neither willing to let go. Paige pressed kisses to Azzi's tear-stained cheeks, tasting salt and love and everything they couldn't say out loud in the daylight.

"Stay a little longer," Paige whispered. "Just a little longer."

"Okay," Azzi agreed, burrowing closer. "A little longer."

They lay in the darkness, fingers intertwined, hearts beating in sync. Paige traced idle patterns on Azzi's skin as they talked in hushed voices about dreams that felt both impossible and inevitable.

"When Frankie graduates high school," Azzi said quietly, "that's thirteen more years. I could, I could leave then. The kids would be old enough to understand, or at least old enough that it wouldn't destroy them."

"Thirteen years," Paige repeated, and Azzi couldn't tell if she sounded hopeful or heartbroken.

"I know it's a long time–"

"I'd wait," Paige interrupted. "I'd wait forever for you if I had to. But Azzi, I don't want you to sacrifice thirteen years of happiness for some arbitrary timeline."

"It's not arbitrary. They're my children."

"I know. And I love that you love them so fiercely. It's one of the things I love most about you." Paige pressed a kiss to Azzi's forehead. "I just – I want you to be happy. Even if it's complicated. Even if it's messy."

"I am happy," Azzi said. "Right now, in this moment, I'm happy. That has to be enough."

But they both knew it wasn't. Not really. Still, they held each other in the darkness, stealing these precious hours, building a future in whispered words and desperate touches. It wasn't enough, but it was all they had. And for now, for tonight, it would have to do.

They were tangled together, sweaty and satisfied and completely in love. Paige pulled the blankets over them, keeping Azzi tucked securely against her chest.

"I hate that you have to go back to him," Paige admitted quietly, her fingers tracing patterns on Azzi's bare shoulder.

"I know," Azzi whispered. "I hate it too. But this, us, it's worth it. You're worth it."

"One day," Paige said, pressing a kiss to the top of Azzi's head, "one day you're going to be mine for real. Not just in secret. Not just stolen moments. Really mine."

"I'm already really yours," Azzi assured her, tilting her head up to meet Paige's eyes. "In every way that matters, I'm yours. And one day, the rest of the world will know it too."

They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other, dreaming of a future where they didn't have to hide their love anymore.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The December light filtered through Azzi's kitchen windows in pale, watery streams, catching on the crystal ornaments that hung from every conceivable surface. Paige stood at the granite island, her fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee she hadn't touched in ten minutes, watching Azzi arrange gingerbread cookies on a tiered silver platter with the kind of precision that made Paige's chest tighten.

"Miranda’s mom sent these from that bakery in Boston," Azzi said, not looking up. Her dark hair fell forward, obscuring her face. "The one that's been there since 1892 or whatever."

"They look perfect," Paige said, and hated how her voice came out rough. She held back an eye roll at the mention of Azzi’s wife.

Everything in Azzi's house was perfect. The garland draped along the crown molding, secured with velvet bows at precise intervals. The Christmas tree in the living room, visible through the archway, decorated in a monochromatic palette of silver and white that probably had a name like "Winter Frost" or "Glacial Elegance." Even the hand towels in the powder room were embroidered with tiny snowflakes, folded into perfect thirds.

Paige's own apartment had a crooked tree her daughter Paige had insisted on decorating with every mismatched ornament they owned, plus several new ones made from popsicle sticks and glitter. There were dishes in her sink right now. There was probably still glitter on her couch.

"We should probably get started," Azzi said, finally meeting Paige's eyes. "On the fundraiser planning."

"Right." Paige set down her mug. "The fundraiser."

They'd been on the PTA together for three months now. Three months of committee meetings where Paige felt Azzi's gaze on her like a physical touch. Three months of lingering in the school parking lot after drop-off, finding excuses to talk about bake sales and spirit weeks and winter concerts. Three months of Paige lying awake at night, thinking about the way Azzi's laugh sounded when it was genuine, not the polite version she used at PTA meetings. The way her wedding ring caught the light. The way she twisted it around her finger when she was nervous.

The way she'd looked at Paige last Tuesday, when they'd both reached for the same stack of fundraiser flyers and their hands had touched, and Azzi had gone completely still for three heartbeats before pulling away.

"I set up in the dining room," Azzi said, already moving toward the archway on the opposite side of the kitchen. "I thought we could spread everything out there."

The dining room was a masterpiece of holiday excess. The table – a massive thing that could easily seat twelve – was covered in what Paige could only describe as a Christmas tablescape. A runner of fresh evergreen boughs ran down the center, with white pillar candles in varying heights, pinecones that had been painted gold, and small glass ornaments that reflected the light in fractured rainbows. Place settings of fine china sat at each end, flanking the display, as if Azzi had been interrupted mid-preparation for some elaborate dinner party.

"This is – wow." Paige whispered, moving closer. The scent of pine was overwhelming, mixed with something warm – cinnamon, maybe, or cloves. "This is a lot."

"Miranda's hosting her firm's holiday party here on Saturday." Azzi's voice was flat. "I've been working on it all week."

She stood on the opposite side of the table, her hands resting on the back of one of the chairs. She wore dark jeans and a cream-colored sweater that probably cost more than Paige's car payment, and she looked tired. Not physically tired – her makeup was flawless, her hair glossy and perfectly styled – but tired in a way that lived behind her eyes.

"Does Miranda know I'm here?" Paige asked, before she could stop herself.

Azzi's fingers tightened on the chair. "Miranda's at work. She's always at work."

The silence that followed felt heavy, weighted with all the things they'd been carefully not saying for three months. Paige could hear the tick of a clock somewhere, the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Outside, a car drove past, and then the quiet settled back in, thick and expectant.

"I brought the vendor quotes," Paige said finally, reaching for her bag. "For the catering options. And I made a spreadsheet of the–"

"Paige."

Just her name. Just that, in Azzi's voice, low and careful, and Paige's hands stilled on her bag.

"Yeah?"

"Why are we doing this?"

Paige looked up. Azzi was watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch. "The fundraiser? Because the PTA needs–"

"You know that's not what I mean."

The air between them felt electric, charged with something that had been building since the first PTA meeting, when Paige had walked into the school library and seen Azzi sitting at the conference table, and felt the world tilt slightly on its axis.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Paige said quietly.

Azzi moved around the table, slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving Paige's face. She stopped a few feet away, close enough that Paige could see the pulse beating at the base of her throat, the slight tremor in her hands.

"I think about you," Azzi said. "All the time. I think about you when I'm making dinner. When I'm helping with homework. When I'm lying in bed next to my wife." She said the last word like it hurt. "I think about what it would feel like to–"

She stopped, closing her eyes.

"To what?" Paige's voice was barely a whisper.

"To stop pretending."

Paige's heart was hammering so hard she was sure Azzi could hear it. "Azzi–"

"Tell me you don't feel it too." Azzi opened her eyes, and they were bright with something that looked like desperation. "Tell me I'm imagining this, and I'll never bring it up again. We'll plan the fundraiser, and we'll be PTA moms, and that's all."

Paige should say it. She should lie, should protect them both from whatever this was, this dangerous thing that had been growing between them like something wild and uncontrollable. She should think about Emma, about the life she'd carefully built as a single mom, about the fact that Azzi was married, that this was wrong in about seventeen different ways.

Instead, she closed the distance between them.

"I can't," she said, and her hand came up to cup Azzi's face, her thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "I can't tell you that."

Azzi's breath hitched. For a moment, they just stood there, Paige's hand on Azzi's face, their bodies inches apart, the Christmas tablescape glittering between them like some kind of absurd witness.

Then Azzi kissed her.

It wasn't gentle. It was three months of tension, of stolen glances and careful distance, of wanting something you couldn't have and wanting it anyway. Azzi's hands fisted in Paige's shirt, pulling her closer, and Paige's other hand found Azzi's waist, her hip, the small of her back. They stumbled backward, and Paige felt the edge of the dining table against her thighs.

"Wait," Azzi gasped, pulling back just enough to speak. Her lips were already swollen, her carefully applied lipstick smudged. "Wait, we can't – the table–"

"I don't care about the table," Paige said, and kissed her again.

Azzi made a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan. "Miranda will kill me. The party–"

"Then we'll be careful." Paige's hands found the hem of Azzi's sweater. "We'll put everything back."

"Paige–"

But whatever protest Azzi had been about to make died as Paige's fingers slipped beneath the cashmere, finding warm skin. Azzi's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed, and Paige took the opportunity to press her lips to the column of Azzi's throat, feeling her pulse race beneath her mouth.

"Tell me to stop," Paige murmured against her skin. "If you want me to stop, tell me now."

Azzi's hands came up to frame Paige's face, tilting it up so their eyes met. Her expression was fierce, determined, shot through with desire and something that looked like relief.

"Don't stop," she said. "Please don't stop."

Paige lifted her onto the table in one smooth motion, scattering pinecones and sending a gold-painted ornament rolling across the polished wood. Azzi's legs wrapped around her waist, pulling her in, and Paige's hands were already working at the button of her jeans, fumbling with urgency.

The evergreen boughs pressed into Azzi's back, releasing their sharp scent into the air. A candle tipped over – unlit, thank God – and rolled off the table with a soft thud onto the carpet. Neither of them noticed. Paige was too focused on the way Azzi was looking at her, like she was something precious and necessary, like she was air after drowning.

"I've wanted this," Azzi breathed, her fingers tangling in Paige's hair. "God, I've wanted this so much."

"Me too," Paige said, and then there were no more words, just the sound of their breathing, harsh and quick in the perfect silence of Azzi's perfect house, as they finally stopped pretending.

Paige's hands slid under Azzi's sweater, pushing the cashmere up and over her head. Azzi lifted her arms to help, and the motion sent one of the crystal glasses tumbling. It shattered against the hardwood with a sound like wind chimes breaking, but neither of them flinched.

"I don't care," Azzi said, reading the brief hesitation in Paige's eyes. "I don't care about any of it."

Paige's fingers found the clasp of Azzi's bra, fumbling for just a moment before it came free. She pulled it away and dropped it somewhere behind her, her hands immediately cupping Azzi's breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that were already hard. Azzi gasped, arching into the touch, and her movement knocked over the silver candlestick. It rolled across the table with a metallic clatter before falling to the floor.

"You're so beautiful," Paige murmured, lowering her head to take one nipple into her mouth. Azzi's fingers tightened in her hair, holding her there as Paige sucked and licked, her other hand still working the other breast, pinching and rolling until azzi was making small, desperate sounds.

"Paige," Azzi breathed. "Please, I need–"

"I know," Paige said against her skin. "I know what you need."

She straightened up enough to pull her own shirt over her head, not bothering with the buttons, and Azzi's hands were immediately on her, sliding over her shoulders, down her back, around to unhook her bra with surprising deftness. When their bare chests pressed together, both of them made sounds that were almost pained with relief.

Paige kissed her again, deep and hungry, as her hands worked at Azzi's jeans. She got the button open, the zipper down, and then she was tugging them down over Azzi's hips. Azzi lifted herself up to help, and the movement sent the entire centerpiece sliding. The ceramic bowl hit the floor and cracked, spilling more pinecones and those perfect gold ornaments across the carpet.

"Miranda spent three hours on that," Azzi said, but she was laughing, breathless and a little wild. "Three hours."

"Fuck Miranda," Paige said, and pulled Azzi's jeans and underwear off in one motion, dropping them on the floor.

Azzi was naked now except for her socks, spread out on the dining room table like an offering, and Paige took a moment just to look at her. The winter light caught in her dark hair, made her skin glow. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her nipples tight, and between her legs–

"You're staring," Azzi said, but there was no self-consciousness in it, just heat.

"Yeah," Paige agreed. "I am."

She ran her hands up Azzi's thighs, feeling them tremble under her touch, and then she hooked Azzi's knees over her shoulders and lowered her mouth.

The sound Azzi made was broken, desperate. Her hips lifted off the table, and her hand shot out to brace herself, knocking over another candle, sending a china plate spinning. It teetered on the edge before falling, shattering into pieces that scattered like snow.

Paige didn't stop. She licked and sucked, her tongue finding Azzi's clit and circling it, then dipping lower to taste her fully. Azzi was so wet, so ready, and the taste of her made Paige moan against her. She slid one hand up to palm Azzi's breast again, pinching her nipple, while her other hand gripped Azzi's hip, holding her steady.

"Oh God," Azzi gasped. "Oh God, Paige, that's–"

Her words dissolved into incoherent sounds as Paige increased the pressure, sucking harder, her tongue working in steady, deliberate strokes. Azzi's thighs tightened around her head, and Paige could feel her trembling, could feel how close she was already.

But she wanted more. She wanted to feel Azzi come apart completely.

She pulled back just enough to slide two fingers inside, and Paige cried out, her back arching off the table. The evergreen boughs beneath her scattered, needles falling like green rain, and one of the remaining glasses tipped over, rolling across the table and off the edge.

"Yes," Azzi breathed. "Yes, please, more–"

Paige gave her more. She thrust her fingers deeper, curling them to find that spot inside that made Azzi's body jerk, while her mouth returned to Azzi's clit. She could feel Azzi's walls clenching around her fingers, could hear the way her breathing had gone ragged and desperate.

"Wait – I can't," Azzi gasped. "I shouldn't – Miranda–"

But her body was saying something else entirely. Her hips were rocking against Paige's mouth, meeting every thrust of her fingers, and her hands had found Paige's hair again, holding her in place like she never wanted to let go.

"Don't think about her," Paige said, pulling back just long enough to speak. "Think about this. Think about how good this feels."

She added a third finger, stretching Azzi, and Azzi's response was immediate and visceral. Her whole body tensed, her thighs clamping around Paige's head, and Paige knew she was right there, right on the edge.

She sucked hard on Azzi's clit, her fingers thrusting deep and steady, and Azzi shattered.

She came with a cry that echoed through the perfect house, her body convulsing, her hands fisting in Paige's hair hard enough to hurt. Her hips bucked wildly, knocking the last of the tablescape to the floor – the remaining plates, the napkins, the final candles, everything scattering and breaking and falling as Azzi rode out her orgasm against Paige's mouth.

Paige worked her through it, gentling her touch as the waves subsided, until Azzi was gasping and trembling and pushing weakly at her head.

"Stop," Azzi breathed. "Too much, it's too much."

Paige pulled back, withdrawing her fingers carefully, and looked up at Azzi. She was wrecked – her hair a mess, her lipstick completely gone, her skin flushed and glowing. She'd never looked more beautiful.

Paige stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and Azzi immediately reached for her, pulling her down into a kiss that was slower now, deeper, tasting herself on Paige's lips.

"That was–" Azzi started, then laughed, breathless. "I don't even have words."

"Good," Paige said, grinning.

They stayed like that for a moment, Azzi still sprawled on the table, Paige leaning over her, both of them catching their breath. Around them, the dining room looked like a disaster zone – broken glass, scattered evergreen needles, ornaments rolling across the floor, the carefully folded napkins crumpled and forgotten.

"Miranda's going to kill me," Azzi said, but she was smiling.

"Worth it?" Paige asked.

"So worth it," Azzi confirmed.

She sat up slowly, wincing a little, and Paige helped her, steadying her with hands on her waist. Azzi's legs wrapped around her again, pulling her close, and they kissed again, softer this time, almost tender.

When they finally broke apart, Paige glanced around at the wreckage, then through the archway into the living room. The Christmas tree was visible from here, tall and perfectly decorated, its lights twinkling in the afternoon dimness. It stood in front of the big window, surrounded by carefully wrapped presents, a tree skirt that probably cost more than Paige's monthly rent.

"That's a really nice tree," Paige said.

Azzi followed her gaze, then looked back at Paige with a slow, wicked smile that made Paige's stomach flip.

"It is," Azzi agreed. "Want to see it up close?"

Paige helped her down from the table, both of them stepping carefully over the broken glass and scattered decorations. Azzi didn't bother picking up her clothes, just took Paige's hand and led her toward the living room, naked and unselfconscious and more alive than Paige had ever seen her.

The Christmas tree lights reflected in Azzi's eyes as they walked toward it, hand in hand, leaving the ruins of perfection behind them. The living room was even more pristine than the dining room had been. Cream-colored furniture arranged just so, throw pillows that had never been thrown, a coffee table book about Tuscan villas that probably had never been opened. The Christmas tree dominated the space, eleven feet of Douglas fir decorated within an inch of its life. White lights, gold and silver ornaments, ribbon cascading down in perfect spirals. It was the kind of tree that belonged in a magazine spread.

Paige had barely taken it all in before Azzi was pulling her down onto the plush rug beneath the tree, the soft fibers cushioning their knees. The lights cast everything in a warm glow, gold and white dancing across Azzi's skin, making her look almost ethereal.

"You're still dressed," Azzi said, her fingers already working at the button of Paige's jeans.

"Yeah, well, I was a little busy," Paige said, but she lifted her hips to help Azzi pull the denim down her legs. Her underwear went with them, and then Azzi was tugging at her shirt, impatient now in a way she hadn't been before.

Paige pulled it over her head, unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Now they were both naked under the Christmas tree, and the absurdity of it made Paige laugh – a real laugh, bright and surprised.

"What?" Azzi asked, smiling.

"This is insane," Paige said. "We're naked under your Christmas tree."

"I know," Azzi said, and she was grinning now too, that perfect composure completely shattered. "I don't care."

She pushed Paige back onto the rug, and Paige went willingly, her head coming to rest near a carefully wrapped present. The tree loomed above them, ornaments swaying slightly from their movement. Azzi settled over her, straddling her hips, and for a moment they just looked at each other.

The lights caught in Azzi's dark hair, made her brown eyes look almost amber. She was so beautiful it hurt, and Paige reached up to cup her face, drawing her down into a kiss that was slower, deeper than before. Azzi's hands roamed over Paige's body – tentative at first, then bolder, learning the shape of her.

"I want to touch you," Azzi murmured against Paige's mouth. "I want to make you feel good."

"Yeah?" Paige's voice came out rough. "Go ahead."

Azzi's hands moved down Paige's sides, over her ribs, her stomach. She traced the lines of Paige's hip bones with her thumbs, then lower, and Paige's breath caught. Above them, an ornament swayed, catching the light.

"Tell me what you like," Azzi said, and there was something vulnerable in her voice, like she was afraid of getting it wrong.

"Anything it’s you," Paige said honestly. "Everything. Just – touch me."

Azzi did. Her fingers were careful at first, exploring, and Paige had to bite back a moan. The lights played across their skin, gold and white and shadow. Azzi watched Paige's face as she touched her, learning what made her gasp, what made her arch up into the contact.

"Like that?" Azzi asked, and Paige could only nod.

"Yes, fuck, yes–"

Azzi's confidence grew with every reaction she drew from Paige. She shifted lower, settling between Paige's legs, and Paige's hands found the rug beneath her, gripping tight. The tree branches rustled above them, ornaments swaying more noticeably now.

When Azzi's mouth replaced her fingers, Paige's hips jerked up involuntarily. "Oh God–"

Azzi hummed against her, and the vibration made Paige's eyes roll back. She'd been so focused on Azzi before, on taking her apart, that she hadn't let herself think about this – about Azzi returning the favor, about how good it would feel.

It felt incredible.

Azzi was tentative but eager, paying attention to every sound Paige made, every shift of her hips. Her hands gripped Paige's thighs, holding her steady, and Paige looked down to see Azzi's dark hair fanned out against her pale skin, the Christmas lights reflecting in the strands.

"You're so good at this," Paige gasped, and she felt Azzi smile against her.

The tree lights blurred in Paige's vision as pleasure built low in her belly. An ornament fell. She heard it hit the rug with a soft thud, but neither of them stopped. Azzi's tongue was relentless now, and Paige's hands found Azzi's hair, threading through it, not pulling but just holding on.

"Don't stop," Paige said. "Please don't – oh fuck–"

She came with Azzi's name on her lips, her body tensing and then releasing, waves of pleasure rolling through her. Azzi worked her through it, gentler as Paige came down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs.

When Paige could breathe again, she pulled Azzi up, kissing her deeply, tasting herself on Azzi's lips. They rolled together on the rug, a tangle of limbs under the tree, and Paige's hand found its way between Azzi's legs again.

"Again?" she murmured against Azzi's ear.

"Please," Azzi breathed. “I am never allowed more than one.”

This time was different – slower, more exploratory. They moved together, finding a rhythm, hands and mouths everywhere. Paige got Azzi on her hands and knees, pressed against her from behind, fingers working inside her while her other hand reached around to touch her clit. The tree shook with their movement, ornaments swaying wildly now, and Paige heard something else fall but didn't care.

Azzi's arms gave out and she collapsed forward onto her elbows, her ass still in the air, and Paige followed her down, covering her body with her own. She could feel Azzi trembling, hear the desperate little sounds she was making.

"Come for me," Paige said against the back of Azzi's neck. "Let me feel it."

Azzi did, clenching around Paige's fingers, her whole body shuddering. Paige held her through it, kissing her shoulders, her spine, whispering things she'd never say in the light of day.

They collapsed together onto the rug, breathing hard, their skin sheened with sweat despite the December chill. The tree lights continued their gentle dance above them, gold and white and warm. A few ornaments lay scattered on the rug around them, casualties of their passion.

Paige reached up lazily, her fingers catching on something metallic and sparkly. She pulled it down – a long strand of silver tinsel garland that had been draped artfully through the branches. It pooled on her stomach, catching the light.

"This is pretty," she said, running it through her fingers. The idea formed slowly, deliciously. She looked over at Azzi, who was watching her with heavy-lidded eyes. "You know what would be even prettier?"

"What?" Azzi's voice was lazy, sated.

"This wrapped around your wrists," Paige said. "Or maybe your ankles. Tied to your bed."

She watched Azzi's expression shift – surprise, then heat, then something more complicated. Nervous but interested.

"My bed," Azzi repeated slowly.

"Yeah." Paige sat up, gathering more of the garland. There was plenty of it, woven through the tree. "Unless you don't want to."

"No, I–" Azzi sat up too, and Paige could see her pulse jumping in her throat. "It's just – that's the bed I share with Miranda."

The name hung between them, a reminder of reality. But Azzi wasn't saying no. If anything, her pupils had dilated, her breathing quickened.

"I know," Paige said quietly. "Is that – does that make it worse? Or–"

"I don't know," Azzi admitted. She reached out, took some of the garland from Paige's hands, let it slide through her fingers. "It should make it worse. It should make me want to stop."

"But it doesn't?"

Azzi looked at her, and there was something raw in her expression. "No. It makes me want it more. Is that terrible?"

Paige thought about all the ways this was already terrible, already wrong. They'd crossed so many lines already. What was one more?

"I think," Paige said carefully, "that you've spent a long time being perfect in that bed. Doing everything right. Maybe it's time to do something just for you."

Azzi's breath hitched. She looked up at the tree, at all the garland still woven through its branches, then back at Paige.

"Okay," she said. "Yes. I want to."

They gathered the garland together, pulling it free from the tree branches. More ornaments fell, and this time they both laughed, giddy and reckless. Paige found some gold ribbon too, the kind that had been cascading down the tree in perfect spirals. She wound it around her hand, testing its strength.

"This'll work," she said.

Azzi stood, offering Paige her hand. They left their clothes scattered between the dining room and the living room, left the wreckage of perfection behind them. The garland and ribbon trailed from Paige's hands as they headed for the stairs, catching the light as they moved.

At the bottom of the staircase, Azzi paused, looking back at the destruction they'd caused. The ruined tablescape, the disheveled tree, the ornaments scattered across expensive rugs.

"No going back now," she said.

"No," Paige agreed. "Is that okay?"

Azzi turned to her, and her smile was fierce and free. "It's more than okay."

They climbed the stairs hand in hand, the garland trailing behind them like a glittering promise. The master bedroom was exactly what Paige expected: another ode to perfection.

The bed was enormous, dressed in what had to be thousand-thread-count sheets in a soft dove gray. A cream duvet lay perfectly smooth, decorative pillows arranged with mathematical precision. The nightstands matched, each topped with identical lamps and a single framed photo. On one side, Azzi and Miranda on their wedding day. On the other, a family portrait with their kids.

Paige felt Azzi tense beside her, saw her gaze land on those photos.

"We can go to the guest room," Paige offered quietly.

But Azzi shook her head. "No. Here." Her voice was steady, determined. "I want it to be here."

Paige understood. This wasn't just about sex – it was about reclaiming something. About choosing herself in the space where she'd been slowly disappearing.

"Okay," Paige said. She squeezed Azzi's hand, then let go to set the garland and ribbon on the dresser. "Get on the bed."

The command in her voice made Azzi's breath catch. She moved to the bed, hesitating for just a moment before climbing onto it, disrupting the perfect arrangement of pillows. She lay back against them, her dark hair spreading across the expensive linens, her body bare and beautiful in the afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

Paige took her time looking. Azzi's chest rose and fell with quick breaths, her nipples still hard from earlier. Her thighs pressed together, and Paige could see the wetness still glistening there.

"Spread your legs," Paige said.

Azzi did, slowly, her knees falling open. The vulnerability of it made her flush spread from her chest up her neck.

Paige picked up the garland. Silver and gold twisted together, still holding its shape from the tree. She knelt on the bed, crawling up to Azzi's feet. She took one ankle in her hand, her thumb stroking the delicate bone there.

"You sure?" she asked one more time.

"Yes." Azzi's voice was barely a whisper. "Please."

Paige wrapped the garland around Azzi's ankle, looping it carefully so it wouldn't cut into her skin but would hold firm. She tied it to the bedpost, then moved to the other side, spreading Azzi's legs wider as she secured the second ankle. The gold ribbon came next, reinforcing the bonds, making them beautiful.

When she was done, Azzi lay spread open, her legs held wide, completely exposed. Her breathing had gone shallow.

"How does that feel?" Paige asked.

"I can't–" Azzi pulled experimentally against the restraints. Her legs didn't budge. "Oh my God."

"Too much?"

"No." Azzi's eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. "It's perfect. I can't – I can't close my legs. I can't hide."

"No," Paige agreed. "You can't." She settled between Azzi's spread thighs, her hands on Azzi's knees. "You're completely open for me. Completely mine right now."

Azzi nodded, a little dazed. "Yes."

Paige leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of Azzi's thigh, high up where the skin was softest. Azzi jerked against the restraints.

"I'm going to take my time with you," Paige said against her skin. "I'm going to make you come until you can't remember your own name. Until the only thing you can say is my name. Until the only thing you know is how good I make you feel."

"Paige–"

"Shh." Another kiss, higher up. "You don't have to do anything. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to feel."

She kissed her way up Azzi's thigh, deliberately avoiding where Azzi needed her most. When she reached the crease where thigh met hip, she bit down gently, and Azzi cried out.

"Please," Azzi said. "Please, I need–"

"I know what you need." Paige moved to the other thigh, starting the slow journey over again. "But I'm going to give it to you when I'm ready."

She could feel Azzi trembling, could see how wet she was, could smell her arousal. But she kept her pace deliberate, teasing. She kissed and licked and bit her way across Azzi's skin, mapping every sensitive spot, learning what made her gasp and what made her moan.

When she finally, finally dragged her tongue through Azzi's folds, Azzi nearly came off the bed.

"Oh fuck," Azzi gasped. "Oh fuck, Paige–"

Paige hummed against her, the vibration making Azzi's hips buck. But she kept it light, teasing, just barely enough. She circled Azzi's clit with her tongue, never quite giving her the pressure she needed.

"Please," Azzi begged. "Please, I need more, I need–"

"You need to be patient." Paige lifted her head, and Azzi whimpered at the loss. "You're going to take what I give you, when I give it to you."

She slid two fingers inside Azzi, and Azzi's whole body arched. She was so wet, so ready, that Paige's fingers slid in easily. She curled them, finding that spot inside that made Azzi see stars.

"There," Azzi gasped. "Right there, please don't stop–"

But Paige did stop, pulling her fingers out slowly. Azzi made a sound of pure frustration.

"Not yet," Paige said. She brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean while Azzi watched with desperate eyes. "You taste so fucking good."

"I hate you," Azzi said, but there was no heat in it, only need.

"No, you don't." Paige smiled and lowered her head again.

This time she didn't tease. She sealed her mouth over Azzi's clit and sucked hard while sliding three fingers inside her. Azzi screamed, her hands fisting in the sheets, her body pulling against the restraints as she tried to close her legs, to get away from the overwhelming sensation, but she couldn't. She was held open, forced to take everything Paige gave her.

"Oh! Oh! I'm gonna–” Azzi's words dissolved into incoherent sounds as her orgasm crashed over her. Paige felt her clench around her fingers, felt her whole body go rigid and then shake apart.

She worked Azzi through it, gentling her touch as the waves subsided. But she didn't stop. As soon as Azzi started to come down, Paige built her back up again.

"I can't," Azzi gasped. "It's too much, I can't–"

"Yes, you can." Paige's fingers moved inside her, slow and deep. "You're going to come for me again."

"Paige–"

"Again," Paige said firmly. She lowered her mouth back to Azzi's clit, and Azzi's protest turned into a moan.

This orgasm built slower, deeper. Paige took her time, reading every signal from Azzi's body. When Azzi was close, she'd back off just slightly, keeping her on that edge until Azzi was sobbing with need.

"Please," Azzi begged. "Please let me come, please, I need it so bad–"

"Look at me," Paige commanded.

Azzi's eyes opened, glazed and desperate, and locked on Paige's.

"You're so beautiful like this," Paige said. "Spread open, tied to your marital bed, begging me to make you come. Does that make you feel guilty?"

"Yes," Azzi gasped.

"Does it make you wet?"

"Yes." Tears leaked from the corners of Azzi's eyes. "Yes, God, yes–"

"Come for me," Paige said, and curled her fingers hard against that spot inside while her tongue flicked rapidly over Azzi's clit.

Azzi came with a broken cry, her whole body convulsing. This orgasm was different. Deeper. More intense. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave crashing through her. Paige felt her gush around her fingers, felt her completely let go.

When it finally subsided, Azzi was crying, not from sadness, but from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it. Paige carefully withdrew her fingers and pressed gentle kisses to Azzi's thighs, her hip bones, her stomach.

"I've got you," Paige murmured. "You're okay. I've got you."

She moved up Azzi's body, kissing her way up until she could capture Azzi's mouth. Azzi kissed her back desperately, tasting herself on Paige's lips.

"One more," Paige whispered against her mouth. "I want to feel you come one more time."

"I can't," Azzi said, but her body was already responding, already arching into Paige's touch.

"You can." Paige's hand slid between them, finding Azzi's clit. "You're going to give me one more."

This time she stayed close, her body pressed against Azzi's, her mouth on Azzi's neck and jaw and lips. Her fingers worked Azzi's clit in slow, firm circles. It took longer this time. Azzi was oversensitive and overwhelmed, but Paige was patient. She whispered encouragement, told Azzi how beautiful she was, how good she felt, how perfect she was like this.

When Azzi came this time, it was quieter. Her body went taut, her breath stopped, and then she shattered. It rolled through her in long, slow waves, and she clung to Paige like she was the only solid thing in the world.

Paige held her through it, then carefully reached down to untie the garland from Azzi's ankles. She massaged each ankle gently, making sure the circulation was okay, then pulled Azzi into her arms.

They lay tangled together in the ruined bed, both of them breathing hard. Azzi's face was buried in Paige's neck, and Paige could feel tears on her skin.

"Hey," Paige said softly, stroking Azzi's hair. "You okay?"

Azzi nodded against her. "Yeah. I just–" Her voice broke. "I didn't know it could be like that."

Paige's heart clenched. She held Azzi tighter. "Like what?"

"Like I mattered." Azzi pulled back enough to look at Paige, her eyes red-rimmed but clear. "Like what I wanted mattered. Like you weren’t burdened with paying attention to me."

"You do," Paige said fiercely. "God, Azzi, you matter."

"Miranda hasn't touched me in eight months," Azzi said quietly. "And before that, it was perfunctory. Like another item on her to-do list. Check the box, move on. I thought maybe that was just how it was supposed to be. That the passion was just for the beginning, and then it faded, and I just lived with it."

"No." Paige cupped Azzi's face in her hands. "No, that's not how it's supposed to be. You deserve to be wanted. You deserve to be worshipped. You deserve someone who can't keep their hands off you."

"Like you?" Azzi's smile was tremulous.

"Yeah," Paige said. "Like me."

They were quiet for a moment, the weight of that admission settling between them.

"What are we doing?" Azzi asked finally. "What is this?"

"I don't know," Paige admitted. "But I know I can't pretend it didn't happen. I know I can't go back to just being your PTA co-chair and acting like I don't want you every second I'm near you."

"I'm married," Azzi said, but it sounded hollow.

"Are you?" Paige asked gently. "Really?"

Azzi closed her eyes. "I don't know anymore. I thought I was. I thought I was doing the right thing, staying, trying to make it work for the kids. But I've been so lonely, Paige. So fucking lonely in this perfect house with my perfect wife and our perfect life."

"There's nothing perfect about being lonely."

"No." Azzi opened her eyes. "There's not."

"I'm not asking you to leave her," Paige said carefully. "I'm not asking you for anything. But I need you to know – this wasn't just sex for me. This was – this meant something."

"It meant something to me too." Azzi's hand came up to cover Paige's where it still cupped her face. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't know how to untangle this mess. But I know I don't regret this. I know I've never felt more alive than I did today."

"That's enough for now," Paige said. She leaned in and kissed Azzi softly. "We don't have to figure it all out right now."

Azzi kissed her back, slow and deep, and they lost themselves in it for a while. The urgency was gone, replaced by something tender and exploratory. They learned each other's mouths, the rhythm of each other's breathing.

When they finally broke apart, Azzi glanced at the nightstand and froze.

"What?" Paige asked.

"My phone." Azzi reached for it, and her face went pale. "Oh shit. School pickup is in two hours."

Reality crashed back in. The afternoon light had shifted, grown longer. They'd been in their bubble for hours, but the real world was waiting.

"We should probably get dressed," Paige said, but neither of them moved.

"Yeah," Azzi agreed. "We should."

They lay there for another long moment, neither wanting to be the first to break the spell.

Finally, Azzi sat up. She looked around the bedroom. The mussed sheets, the garland and ribbon discarded on the floor, the photos of her wedding and family still watching from the nightstands.

"Everything's different now," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Paige said. "It is."

Azzi turned to look at her, and something fierce and determined had entered her expression. "I don't know what happens next. But I know I can't go back to how things were. I can't unknow what this feels like."

"You don't have to." Paige sat up too, taking Azzi's hand. "Whatever you decide, whatever you need,I'm here."

"Even if it's messy?"

"Especially if it's messy." Paige smiled. "I'm a single mom with a crooked Christmas tree and a kid who thinks dinosaurs are still alive. Messy is kind of my specialty."

Azzi laughed, and it sounded lighter than anything Paige had heard from her before. "Okay. Okay." She squeezed Paige's hand. "We should really get dressed now."

"Yeah."

But before they moved, Azzi leaned in and kissed Paige one more time – soft and sweet and full of promise.

"Thank you," she whispered against Paige's lips.

"For what?"

"For seeing me. For wanting me. For reminding me I'm still alive."

Paige's throat tightened. "Always."

They got up then, gathering their scattered clothes from the bedroom floor and retracing their path downstairs. The house looked like a tornado had hit it. The dining room table still in disarray, the Christmas tree disheveled, ornaments scattered everywhere.

Azzi stood in the living room, taking it all in, and started to laugh. "Miranda is going to lose her mind."

"Want help cleaning up?" Paige offered.

"No." Azzi turned to her, and her smile was radiant. "I want to leave it exactly like this. I want her to see it. I want her to ask me what happened."

"And what are you going to tell her?"

Azzi's smile turned wicked. "The truth. That something finally broke through all this perfection. That I finally felt something real."

They dressed slowly, stealing kisses between pulling on clothes. At the door, they lingered.

"I'll see you at pickup?" Azzi asked.

"Yeah." Paige tucked a strand of hair behind Azzi's ear. "And at the next PTA meeting."

"That's going to be interesting."

"Probably." Paige grinned. "Text me?"

"I will."

One more kiss, and then Paige stepped out into the cold December air. She walked to her car, feeling Azzi's eyes on her the whole way. When she turned back before getting in, Azzi was still standing in the doorway, backlit by the warm light of her house, smiling.

Paige drove away, her body still humming, her heart full of something she couldn't quite name. She didn't know what would happen next, if Azzi would find the courage to leave her loveless marriage, if they'd find a way to be together, if this would remain a beautiful, stolen afternoon.

But she knew one thing for certain: neither of them would ever be the same.

And maybe, Paige thought as she headed home to her own imperfect life, that was exactly how it was supposed to be.

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When Paige suggested they spice up December with a sexy advent calendar, Azzi had laughed. Then she saw the gleam in her girlfriend's eyes and realized she was completely serious. They'd spent an evening in November planning it out together, giggling over wine as they brainstormed ideas, ordered toys online, and wrote out little cards for each day. The rules were simple: every day in December, they'd open a new "gift" and explore whatever kinky scenario, toy, or sexual adventure it contained. No backing out, no skipping days. Twenty-five days of pure, unadulterated pleasure leading up to Christmas. As December 1 approached, the anticipation was almost unbearable.

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Day 1: Unwrapping Each Other

The first card read simply: Start slow. Blindfolds and sensation play.

Paige tied the silk blindfold around Azzi's eyes, her fingers lingering at the knot behind her head. "Trust me?" She whispered against Azzi's ear and felt her girlfriend shiver.

"Always," Azzi breathed.

In the darkness behind the blindfold, every sensation magnified. Azzi felt Paige's hands sliding her shirt up and off, the cool air of their bedroom kissing her skin. Then warmth – Paige's mouth trailing down her neck, teeth grazing her collarbone. Azzi's hands reached out instinctively, but Paige caught her wrists.

"Uh-uh. Just feel."

What followed was exquisite torture. An ice cube traced along Azzi's spine, making her gasp and arch. Then heat – Paige's tongue following the same path, licking away the cold water. The contrast made Azzi's head spin. Feathers whispered across her breasts, so light she wasn't sure if she was imagining it, followed by the firm pressure of Paige's palms cupping her, thumbs circling her nipples until they were hard and aching.

"Paige, please," Azzi whimpered, but Paige just hummed against her skin.

"We have twenty-four more days, baby. Tonight is about learning your body all over again."

By the time Paige finally removed the blindfold and pressed Azzi back against the bed, Azzi was trembling with need. Paige settled between her thighs, maintaining eye contact as she slowly pulled Azzi's panties down her legs.

"I want to watch you fall apart," Paige murmured, before lowering her mouth to Azzi's pussy.

The first stroke of Paige's tongue made Azzi cry out, her hands flying to tangle in Paige's blonde hair. After all that teasing, every nerve ending was on fire. Paige ate her out with deliberate slowness, her tongue circling Azzi's clit before dipping inside her, then back up again in maddening patterns. She slid two fingers inside, curling them just right while her mouth worked Azzi's clit, and Azzi came with a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around Paige's head as waves of pleasure crashed through her.

Paige didn't stop, working her through the aftershocks until Azzi was boneless and panting. When she finally crawled up Azzi's body, her chin glistening, Azzi pulled her into a deep kiss, tasting herself on Paige's lips.

"My turn," Azzi growled, flipping them over with renewed energy.

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Day 5: Remote Control

The package that arrived contained a small, curved vibrator with a remote control. The card read: Wear this to dinner. I'm in control.

Azzi stared at Paige across the breakfast table. "You're kidding."

"Nope." Paige grinned wickedly, clicking the remote. The toy buzzed to life in her hand. "It's app-controlled too. Think you can keep a straight face at Soy Cowboy?"

That evening, Azzi squirmed in the passenger seat as they drove to the restaurant, hyperaware of the toy nestled inside her, currently dormant. Paige had insisted on inserting it herself, taking her time, making sure it was positioned just right against Azzi's g-spot. Now Paige's hand rested casually on the gear shift, her phone in the cup holder, and Azzi knew she was completely at her mercy.

They made it through ordering drinks before Paige activated it.

The vibration started low, a gentle hum that made Azzi's breath catch. She gripped her water glass, trying to focus on the menu while pleasure radiated through her core. Paige looked completely innocent, discussing appetizers with their server while her thumb moved on her phone screen under the table.

"The calamari sounds good," Paige said conversationally. "What do you think, Az?"

Azzi opened her mouth to respond just as the vibration intensified. "I – yes – that's–" She had to stop, biting her lip hard.

Paige's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You okay, baby?"

"Fine," Azzi managed through gritted teeth.

The toy pulsed in waves now, and Azzi pressed her thighs together, trying desperately to maintain composure. Paige kept up casual conversation, asking about Azzi's day, discussing their holiday plans, all while systematically driving her girlfriend insane. Every time Azzi started to adjust to the sensation, Paige would change the pattern – faster, slower, pulsing, steady.

By the time their entrees arrived, Azzi was flushed and breathing hard, her hands gripping the edge of the table. She could feel wetness soaking her panties, could feel herself getting close. Paige seemed to sense it too, because she suddenly turned the vibration up to maximum.

Azzi's fork clattered to her plate. "Paige," she hissed, "I'm going to–"

"Then do it," Paige said softly, her voice low and commanding. "Right here. I want to watch."

The orgasm hit Azzi like a freight train. She bit down on her napkin, her whole body tensing as she came, trying desperately to stay quiet. Pleasure rolled through her in intense waves while Paige watched with dark, hungry eyes. When it finally subsided, Azzi slumped in her chair, trembling.

Paige turned off the toy and smiled sweetly. "Dessert?"

They skipped dessert. Paige barely got the front door closed before Azzi was on her, kissing her frantically, walking her backward toward the bedroom. Azzi stripped Paige's clothes off with shaking hands, pushed her onto the bed, and settled between her legs.

"My turn to make you scream," Azzi promised, before showing Paige exactly what a month of pent-up desire felt like.

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Day 8: Tied Up in Knots

"Rope?" Azzi examined the soft cotton rope and the instruction card. "You want to tie me up?"

"Actually," Paige said, stretching out on the bed in just her underwear, "I want you to tie me up. I trust you completely, Az. I want to give you that control."

Something hot and possessive flared in Azzi's chest. She'd never done this before, but the idea of having Paige completely at her mercy was intoxicating. They'd watched some tutorials together, practiced basic knots. Now, looking at Paige spread out before her, willing and waiting, Azzi felt power surge through her.

"Hands above your head," she instructed, her voice coming out huskier than intended.

Paige complied immediately, and Azzi felt another thrill. She took her time, wrapping the rope around Paige's wrists, creating a decorative pattern before securing them to the headboard. Not too tight, she checked circulation, made sure Paige could move a little, but firm enough that she couldn't escape.

"How does that feel?" Azzi asked.

"Good," Paige breathed, testing the bonds. "Really good."

Azzi stood back to admire her work. Paige looked incredible like this – blonde hair spread across the pillow, arms stretched above her head, her body on display. The vulnerability in her eyes mixed with trust and desire made Azzi's heart race.

"You look so fucking pretty," Azzi murmured, trailing her fingers down Paige's arm, between her breasts, across her stomach. Paige's muscles jumped under her touch. "And you're all mine."

She took her time exploring Paige's body, mapping every inch of skin with her hands and mouth. She kissed along Paige's collarbone, bit gently at her shoulder, sucked marks into the soft skin of her breasts. Paige writhed beneath her, pulling at the ropes, and Azzi loved the little frustrated sounds she made when she couldn't touch back.

"Azzi, please," Paige whimpered when Azzi's mouth closed around her nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

"Please what?" Azzi asked innocently, moving to the other breast.

"Touch me. I need – fuck – I need you."

Azzi slid her hand down Paige's stomach, over her hip, deliberately avoiding where Paige needed her most. She stroked the inside of Paige's thigh, so close but not close enough, and Paige bucked her hips desperately.

"Like this?" Azzi teased, her fingers dancing along Paige's inner thigh.

"You're evil," Paige gasped.

"You love it."

When Azzi finally slid her hand into Paige's panties, they were both rewarded; Paige with the touch she'd been craving, Azzi with the discovery of just how wet Paige was. She was absolutely soaked, and Azzi groaned at the feeling.

"God, you're so wet for me," Azzi breathed, circling Paige's clit with her thumb while sliding two fingers inside her. "Is this what being tied up does to you?"

Paige could only moan in response, her hips rocking against Azzi's hand. Azzi set a steady rhythm, watching Paige's face as pleasure built – the way her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth fell open, her whole body tensed. The ropes creaked as Paige pulled against them, and Azzi increased her pace, curling her fingers to hit that spot inside that made Paige see stars.

"That's it, baby," Azzi encouraged. "Come for me. Let me see you fall apart."

Paige came with a cry of Azzi's name, her body arching off the bed as much as the ropes allowed, her pussy clenching around Azzi's fingers. Azzi worked her through it, only stopping when Paige collapsed back against the mattress, panting.

But Azzi wasn't done. She pulled her fingers out slowly, maintaining eye contact as she brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean. Paige's eyes went wide and dark.

"Again," Azzi said, moving down Paige's body. "I want to make you come again."

She settled between Paige's thighs and got to work.

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Day 12: Double Trouble

The box contained two items: a strap-on harness and a double-ended dildo. The card read: Why choose when you can have both?

Azzi held up the double-ended toy, one eyebrow raised. "This is ambitious."

"We can work up to it," Paige said, but her eyes were already dark with interest. "Start with the harness?"

They'd used a strap-on before, but something about the advent calendar made everything feel more charged, more intense. Azzi helped Paige into the harness, adjusting the straps, making sure everything fit properly. The dildo was a good size – not too intimidating, but substantial enough to feel amazing.

"How do you want me?" Azzi asked, and Paige's breath hitched at the question.

"On your back. I want to see your face."

Azzi stretched out on the bed, and Paige settled between her legs, the dildo jutting from her hips. She took her time preparing Azzi, using her fingers first, then her mouth, until Azzi was writhing and begging. Only then did she line up the toy and slowly push inside.

They both groaned at the sensation. The harness was designed so that the base pressed against Paige's clit with every thrust, meaning they could both feel pleasure. Paige started moving slowly, watching Azzi's face for any sign of discomfort, but there was only pleasure.

"Harder," Azzi urged, wrapping her legs around Paige's waist. "I can take it."

Paige increased her pace, her hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. The room filled with the sounds of their breathing, skin against skin, Azzi's moans getting louder with each thrust. Paige braced herself on her forearms, getting deeper, and Azzi's nails raked down her back.

"Fuck, yes, just like that," Azzi gasped. "Don't stop, don't stop–"

Paige could feel her own orgasm building from the pressure against her clit, but she held back, focused on Azzi. She shifted the angle slightly, and Azzi cried out, her pussy clenching around the toy.

"There?" Paige asked, hitting that spot again.

"Yes! Oh god, yes, right there–"

Paige fucked her harder, faster, chasing both their pleasure. When Azzi came, her whole body went rigid, her back arching off the bed as she screamed Paige's name. The sight and sound of it pushed Paige over the edge too, and she ground against Azzi as her own orgasm crashed through her.

They collapsed together, breathing hard, the toy still inside Azzi. After a moment, Paige carefully pulled out and removed the harness, then gathered Azzi into her arms.

"Give me ten minutes," Azzi murmured against Paige's shoulder, "and we're trying the other one."

The double-ended dildo required more coordination, but they figured it out. They ended up facing each other, the toy connecting them, moving together in a rhythm that had them both gasping. It was intimate in a different way – they could kiss, could watch each other's faces, could feel every movement the other made. When they came this time, it was together, crying out in unison as pleasure overwhelmed them both.

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Day 15: Ice Queen

"Temperature play, round two," Paige announced, holding up a box of popsicles. "But more intense this time."

Azzi eyed the frozen treats skeptically. "What exactly are you planning?"

"Trust me," Paige said with a wicked grin.

She had Azzi lie back on the bed, naked and already shivering with anticipation. Paige unwrapped a cherry popsicle and held it up. "Red light, yellow light, green light system. Okay?"

"Green," Azzi confirmed.

Paige started at Azzi's collarbone, trailing the frozen popsicle across her skin. Azzi gasped at the intense cold, her nipples hardening immediately. Paige circled one breast, then the other, watching goosebumps rise across Azzi's skin. When she dragged the popsicle directly over Azzi's nipple, Azzi arched off the bed with a sharp cry.

"Color?" Paige asked.

"Green," Azzi panted. "So green."

Paige continued her exploration, trailing the melting popsicle down Azzi's stomach, around her hip bones, along her inner thighs. Everywhere it touched, Azzi's skin flushed pink, the cold making every nerve ending hypersensitive. Sticky cherry juice dripped onto the sheets, and Paige followed the path of the popsicle with her tongue, licking up the sweetness mixed with the salt of Azzi's skin.

"Paige," Azzi whimpered when the popsicle got close to her pussy. "Are you going to–"

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes. God, yes."

Paige ran the popsicle along Azzi's outer lips, and Azzi nearly came off the bed. The cold against such sensitive, heated flesh was almost overwhelming. Paige took her time, teasing, until the popsicle was mostly melted. Then she tossed the stick aside and replaced it with her mouth, her warm tongue a shocking contrast to the cold.

Azzi's hands flew to Paige's hair, holding her in place as Paige licked and sucked, warming her up from the inside out. The combination of sensations, cold then hot, sweet then salty, had their heads spinning. When Paige slid two fingers inside her while her tongue worked her clit, Azzi came hard, her thighs trembling around Paige's head.

But Paige wasn't done. She grabbed another popsicle, orange this time, and before Azzi could fully recover, she was pressing the frozen tip against Azzi's entrance.

"Oh fuck," Azzi gasped as Paige slowly pushed the popsicle inside her, the cold making her clench around it. It was intense, almost too much, but Paige's free hand stroked soothingly over her hip. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck,” she whined.

"Color?"

"Green," Azzi managed. "Keep going."

Paige fucked her slowly with the popsicle, watching it melt inside her, then replaced it with her fingers, fucking Azzi with the cold liquid still inside her. The sensation was indescribable – c cold and hot, full and empty, pleasure bordering on pain. When Paige's mouth found her clit again, Azzi came so hard she saw stars, her whole body shaking with the intensity of it.

Afterward, Paige held her close, warming her up, whispering praise against her skin. When Azzi finally caught her breath, she looked at Paige with determined eyes.

"Your turn," she said, reaching for the box of popsicles. "And I'm not going to be gentle."

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Day 18: Public Display

The card read: Sex in a semi-public place. Don't get caught.

They chose the parking garage of their apartment building at 2 AM. Risky enough to be thrilling, but unlikely to actually get them in trouble. Paige drove them down to the lowest level, which was always deserted at this hour, and parked in the far corner.

"Backseat," Paige ordered, and Azzi scrambled to comply, her heart already racing.

The space was cramped, but that just meant they were pressed closer together. Paige pulled Azzi onto her lap, kissing her hard, hands already working at the button of Azzi's jeans. The windows were starting to fog up from their breathing.

"Someone could come down here," Azzi gasped between kisses. "Someone could see–"

"That's the point," Paige murmured against her neck. "Does it turn you on? Knowing we might get caught?"

It did. God, it really did. Azzi could feel how wet she was already, and Paige had barely touched her. There was something about the forbidden nature of it, the risk, that made everything more intense.

Paige got Azzi's jeans and panties down to her knees – not all the way off, because they might need to get dressed quickly – and slid her hand between Azzi's thighs. Azzi was soaked, and Paige groaned at the discovery.

"Fuck, you love this," Paige said, circling Azzi's clit with her thumb. "You're dripping."

Azzi couldn't deny it. She rocked against Paige's hand, chasing the pleasure, hyperaware of every sound – the echo of their breathing, the wet sounds of Paige's fingers working her pussy, the distant hum of the building's ventilation system. Any moment, someone could drive down here. Any moment, headlights could sweep across them.

The thought made her clench around Paige's fingers.

"That's it," Paige encouraged, adding a third finger, stretching Azzi open. "Ride my hand. Take what you need."

Azzi braced herself on Paige's shoulders and moved her hips, fucking herself on Paige's fingers. The car rocked slightly with her movements, and that just made it hotter. She was completely exposed, completely vulnerable, completely at Paige's mercy in this semi-public space.

When headlights suddenly appeared at the entrance to the garage, they both froze. A car was coming down the ramp. Azzi's heart hammered in her chest, but Paige didn't remove her fingers. Instead, she curled them, hitting Azzi's spot, and whispered, "Don't stop. Come for me before they get here."

The car was getting closer, the sound of its engine growing louder. Azzi moved faster, desperate now, chasing her orgasm. Paige's thumb found her clit, rubbing in tight circles, and Azzi bit down on Paige's shoulder to muffle her cry as she came, her pussy clenching rhythmically around Paige's fingers.

The car drove past their row, heading for a different section of the garage. They were safe. But the adrenaline mixed with the orgasm left Azzi shaking and breathless.

"Holy shit," she gasped.

Paige grinned, slowly withdrawing her fingers. "Good?"

"So good." Azzi kissed her deeply. "But now it's your turn, and I'm going to make you scream so loud someone definitely hears."

She did. Paige came with her hand pressed over her own mouth, trying desperately to stay quiet, while Azzi's fingers worked magic between her legs. When they finally made it back upstairs to their apartment, they collapsed into bed, still high on adrenaline and satisfaction.

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Day 21: Edge of Glory

"Edging," Azzi read from the card. "Bring each other to the edge repeatedly without letting them come. Last one to break wins."

"Oh, this is going to be torture," Paige said, but her eyes gleamed with competitive fire.

They set up rules: they'd take turns, five minutes each, trying to get the other as close to orgasm as possible without letting them tip over. Whoever came first lost. The winner got to do whatever they wanted to the loser.

Paige went first. She had Azzi on her back, legs spread, and went to work with her mouth and fingers. She knew Azzi's body intimately by now, knew exactly how to touch her, where to lick, how much pressure to apply. Within three minutes, Azzi was trembling, right on the edge.

"Paige, I'm going to–"

Paige immediately pulled back, leaving Azzi gasping and frustrated. "Not yet, baby."

When the timer went off, they switched. Azzi straddled Paige's face, grinding down while Paige's tongue worked her clit. She got close again, so close, but Paige stopped just in time, leaving her whimpering.

Back and forth they went, taking turns driving each other crazy. By the fourth round, they were both desperate, sweating, shaking with need. Azzi's thighs were trembling, and Paige could barely form coherent sentences.

"I can't," Azzi gasped during her turn. "I can't hold back anymore."

"You have to," Paige panted. "Don't you want to win?"

But when it was Paige's turn again, she made a strategic error. She used the vibrator from Day 5, pressing it directly against Azzi's clit while fingering her, and Azzi's control shattered. She came with a scream, her whole body convulsing, the orgasm so intense after all that edging that she nearly blacked out.

"I win," Paige said smugly, turning off the vibrator.

Azzi, still trembling from the aftershocks, looked at her girlfriend with dark eyes. "You know what that means."

"You have to do whatever I want."

"So what do you want?"

Paige's smile turned wicked. "I want you to edge me for an hour. No timer, no breaks. Just keep me right on the edge until I'm begging. And then, maybe, if I ask nicely enough, you'll let me come."

It was the longest, most exquisite hour of Paige's life. Azzi was merciless, using her hands, her mouth, toys, everything in their arsenal to keep Paige hovering right on the precipice of orgasm without letting her fall over. By the end, Paige was crying, actually crying, begging incoherently for release.

"Please, please, Azzi, I need to come, please let me come, I'll do anything–"

"Anything?" Azzi asked, her fingers still moving slowly inside Paige.

"Anything!"

"Then come for me. Right now."

Azzi's mouth closed around Paige's clit, sucking hard, and Paige came so intensely she thought she might die. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her, until she was boneless and spent, tears streaming down her face.

Azzi held her afterward, stroking her hair, whispering how beautiful she was, how good she'd been. When Paige finally came back to herself, she looked at Azzi with exhausted, satisfied eyes.

"Best loss ever," she murmured.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Day 24: Christmas Eve Special

"Tomorrow's the big finale," Paige said, reading the card for Day 24. "But tonight is about worship. Take turns worshipping each other's bodies. No rushing, no goals, just pleasure and appreciation."

They lit candles, put on soft music, and took their time. Paige went first, laying Azzi out on the bed like an offering. She started at Azzi's feet, massaging them, kissing each toe, working her way up slowly. She paid attention to every inch – the curve of Azzi's calves, the sensitive spot behind her knees, the soft glow of candlelight flickered across Paige's skin as Azzi's hands traced reverently down her sides. They had all night, and Azzi intended to use every second of it.

"You're so beautiful," Azzi whispered, her voice thick with emotion and desire. She pressed a kiss to Paige's collarbone, then lower, taking her time as she mapped every inch of skin with her lips. "I want to worship every part of you."

Paige's breath hitched as Azzi's mouth traveled down her sternum, between her breasts, across her ribs. Each kiss was deliberate, purposeful, filled with adoration. Azzi's hands followed the path of her lips, caressing and exploring as though she were discovering Paige for the first time.

"Az." Paige's fingers threaded through Azzi's dark curls, not pulling or directing, just holding on as sensation washed over her.

Azzi looked up, her brown eyes dark with want. "Let me take care of you tonight. Just feel."

She continued her journey downward, kissing across Paige's stomach, her hip bones, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Paige's legs fell open instinctively, and Azzi settled between them, her breath warm against Paige's center.

"So perfect," Azzi murmured before pressing a soft kiss to Paige's clit. The touch was feather-light, teasing, and Paige's hips lifted seeking more.

But Azzi took her time, alternating between gentle kisses and long, slow licks that had Paige trembling. She explored every fold, every sensitive spot, learning what made Paige gasp and what made her moan. Her hands gripped Paige's thighs, holding her open as she worked her tongue in slow, deliberate circles.

"God, Az – please–" Paige's voice was breathy, desperate.

Azzi increased the pressure slightly, her tongue moving with more purpose now, finding the rhythm that she knew would drive Paige wild. She slid two fingers inside, curling them just right as her mouth continued its worship.

Paige's back arched off the bed, her hands fisting in the sheets as pleasure built inside her. Azzi's name fell from her lips like a prayer, over and over, as Azzi brought her closer and closer to the edge.

When Paige finally came, it was with a cry that echoed through the room, her body shaking as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Azzi didn't stop, drawing out every last tremor until Paige gently pushed her away, oversensitive and breathless.

Azzi crawled back up Paige's body, pressing soft kisses along the way, until she could capture Paige's lips in a deep, languid kiss. Paige could taste herself on Azzi's tongue, and it sent another spark of arousal through her already satisfied body.

"My turn," Paige whispered against Azzi's lips, and before Azzi could protest, Paige had flipped their positions, settling on top of her girlfriend.

"Paige, you don't have to–"

"I want to," Paige interrupted, her blue eyes intense as she looked down at Azzi. "I want to worship you the way you just worshipped me."

She started at Azzi's neck, sucking gently at the pulse point that always made Azzi weak. Her hands cupped Azzi's breasts, thumbs brushing over hardened nipples as her mouth worked lower. She took her time with each breast, lavishing attention on them until Azzi was squirming beneath her.

"Paige," Azzi's voice was already strained, her body responding to every touch.

Paige kissed down Azzi's toned stomach, her hands sliding along Azzi's sides, memorizing every curve and dip. When she reached Azzi's hips, she paused, looking up to meet her girlfriend's eyes.

"You're everything to me," Paige said softly, and then she lowered her head.

The first touch of Paige's tongue made Azzi gasp, her hips jerking involuntarily. Paige held her steady, her strong hands gripping Azzi's thighs as she explored with her mouth. She was thorough, attentive, paying attention to every sound Azzi made, every movement of her body.

Azzi's hands found Paige's hair, fingers tangling in the blonde strands as pleasure built inside her. Paige's tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, occasionally dipping inside before returning to circle Azzi's clit. The pace was maddening, building Azzi up slowly but surely.

"Don't stop," Azzi breathed, her thighs trembling. "Please don't stop."

Paige had no intention of stopping. She increased the pressure, her tongue moving faster now, more insistent. She slid two fingers inside Azzi, matching the rhythm of her mouth, and Azzi's back arched off the bed.

"Paige – oh God, Pai–"

The orgasm hit Azzi like a tidal wave, her whole body tensing as pleasure exploded through her. Paige worked her through it, gentling her movements as Azzi came down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs before crawling back up to hold her.

They lay tangled together, both breathing hard, the candles still flickering around them. Azzi turned her head to press a kiss to Paige's temple.

"Merry Christmas Eve," she whispered.

Paige laughed softly, pulling Azzi closer. "Best Christmas Eve ever."

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other, occasionally exchanging lazy kisses. Eventually, they blew out the candles and settled under the covers, Azzi's head on Paige's chest, their legs intertwined.

"Tomorrow's Christmas," Paige murmured sleepily.

"Mmm," Azzi hummed, already half-asleep. "Can't wait to see what you have planned."

Paige smiled in the darkness, her hand stroking through Azzi's hair. "It's going to be perfect."

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Day 25: Christmas Day - The Grand Finale

Paige woke to the soft light of Christmas morning filtering through the curtains. Azzi was still asleep beside her, her face peaceful, dark hair spread across the pillow. Paige took a moment just to look at her, her heart swelling with love.

The past twenty-four days had been incredible – each day bringing them closer, exploring new ways to pleasure each other, deepening their connection. But today was special. Today was Christmas, and Paige wanted to make it unforgettable.

She pressed a soft kiss to Azzi's shoulder, then another to her neck. Azzi stirred, a small smile playing at her lips even before she opened her eyes.

"Merry Christmas," Paige whispered against her skin.

Azzi's eyes fluttered open, immediately finding Paige's. "Merry Christmas, baby."

They kissed, slow and sweet, taking their time. There was no rush this morning. They had all day, and Paige intended to savor every moment.

"I have something for you," Paige said when they finally pulled apart.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "Besides the amazing twenty-four days we just had?"

Paige grinned. "Besides that."

She reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a small wrapped box. Azzi sat up, taking it with curious eyes. When she opened it, she found a delicate gold necklace with a small pendant — two interlocking circles.

"Paige," Azzi's voice was soft, emotional.

"Us," Paige explained, her fingers tracing the circles. "Together. Always."

Azzi's eyes were shining as she looked up at Paige. "I love it. I love you."

"I love you too," Paige said, taking the necklace and fastening it around Azzi's neck. She pressed a kiss to the spot where it rested against Azzi's skin. "Now, about today."

"Oh?" Azzi's voice had taken on a teasing tone. "What did you have in mind?"

Paige's eyes darkened with desire. "Everything. I want to use everything we've learned this month. I want to make you feel so good, Az. I want this to be the best day yet."

Azzi's breath caught. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Paige kissed her again, deeper this time, her tongue sliding against Azzi's as her hands began to roam. She pushed Azzi back against the pillows, settling on top of her, their bodies aligning perfectly.

"I'm going to take my time with you," Paige murmured against Azzi's lips. "I'm going to touch you everywhere, taste you everywhere, make you come so many times you lose count."

Azzi moaned softly, her hips already rolling up to meet Paige's. "Yes. Please," she begged.

Paige started with her mouth, kissing Azzi deeply while her hands explored. She remembered the ice from Day 3, the way it had made Azzi gasp, so she reached for the glass of ice water on the nightstand, taking a small cube into her mouth before kissing down Azzi's neck.

The contrast of cold and warm made Azzi arch beneath her, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. Paige traced the ice down Azzi's chest, circling her nipples until they were hard peaks, then warming them with her mouth.

"God, Paige." Azzi's hands gripped Paige's shoulders, her body already trembling.

Paige continued her exploration, using her hands, her mouth, occasionally the ice, driving Azzi wild with sensation. She remembered the feather from Day 7, the way it had teased and tormented, so she grabbed it from the drawer, trailing it down Azzi's sides, across her stomach, along her inner thighs.

Azzi was writhing now, her breath coming in short gasps. "Please – I need–"

"I know what you need," Paige said, her voice low and confident. She settled between Azzi's legs, but instead of diving in immediately, she took her time, kissing and licking everywhere except where Azzi needed her most.

"Paige!" Azzi's voice was desperate, pleading.

Finally, Paige gave her what she wanted, her tongue finding Azzi's clit with practiced ease. She worked her slowly at first, building the pleasure gradually, then faster, more insistent. She slid two fingers inside, curling them just right, and Azzi came with a cry, her body shaking.

But Paige didn't stop. She gentled her movements, letting Azzi come down slightly before building her back up again. She remembered the vibrator from Day 15, reaching for it and turning it on low. The combination of her mouth and the toy had Azzi gasping, her hands fisting in the sheets.

"Oh God! Oh God! Paige!"

The second orgasm hit Azzi even harder than the first, her entire body tensing as pleasure crashed through her. Paige turned off the toy, soothing Azzi with gentle kisses to her thighs, her hips, her stomach.

"You okay?" Paige asked softly, crawling back up to check on her girlfriend.

Azzi's eyes were glazed with pleasure, but she nodded. "More than okay. But now it's your turn."

Before Paige could protest, Azzi had flipped them over, pinning Paige beneath her. "You think you're the only one who can use what we've learned?"

Azzi's mouth was on Paige's neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Her hands were everywhere, touching, teasing, driving Paige crazy. She remembered the silk ties from Day 9, reaching for them.

"Can I?" Azzi asked, holding them up.

Paige nodded, her breath already coming faster. Azzi tied Paige's wrists to the headboard, not too tight, just enough to restrain her. Then she sat back, admiring her handiwork.

"You look so good like this," Azzi murmured, her hands sliding down Paige's body. "Completely at my mercy."

She took her time, exploring every inch of Paige's body with her hands and mouth. She used the ice, the feather, her fingers, her tongue, bringing Paige to the edge over and over but not letting her fall.

"Az, please. I need to come!"

"Not yet," Azzi said, her voice firm but loving. "I want to make this last."

She continued her torment, touching Paige everywhere except where she needed it most. When she finally slid her fingers inside Paige, her mouth closing around Paige's clit, Paige nearly screamed with relief.

The orgasm built quickly, intensely, and when it hit, Paige saw stars. Her body convulsed, pulling against the restraints as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Azzi worked her through it, drawing it out until Paige was begging her to stop.

Azzi untied Paige's wrists, massaging them gently before pulling Paige into her arms. They lay there for a while, both breathing hard, both satisfied.

But they weren't done yet.

"I want to feel you," Paige whispered, her hand sliding between Azzi's legs. "I want us to come together."

Azzi moaned, already sensitive but wanting more. They shifted, positioning themselves so they could touch each other simultaneously. Paige's fingers found Azzi's clit as Azzi's found hers, and they moved together, their rhythm synchronized.

They kissed deeply, swallowing each other's moans as pleasure built between them. Their free hands roamed, touching, caressing, holding each other close. The intimacy of it, the connection, was almost overwhelming.

"I love you," Paige gasped against Azzi's lips. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Azzi breathed. "Always."

They came together, their bodies trembling in unison, their cries mingling as they held each other through the intensity of it. It was perfect, beautiful, everything Paige had hoped for.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, both completely spent, both completely satisfied. The morning sun was higher now, casting warm light across their intertwined bodies.

"Best Christmas ever," Azzi murmured, pressing a kiss to Paige's chest.

Paige laughed softly, her hand stroking through Azzi's hair. "Best month ever."

"Best girlfriend ever," Azzi added, looking up at Paige with so much love in her eyes that Paige felt her heart might burst.

"Right back at you," Paige said, leaning down to kiss her softly.

They stayed in bed for a while longer, exchanging lazy kisses and gentle touches, basking in the afterglow and in each other. Eventually, they would get up, exchange more presents, maybe make Christmas dinner. But for now, this was perfect.

Twenty-five days of exploring, learning, loving. Twenty-five days of growing closer, of discovering new ways to pleasure each other, of deepening their connection. And this, Christmas Day, was the culmination of it all – a celebration of their love, their passion, their commitment to each other.

As Paige held Azzi close, the new necklace glinting against her skin, she knew that this was just the beginning. They had a lifetime of Christmases ahead of them, a lifetime of love and passion and connection.

And she couldn't wait.

"Merry Christmas, Az," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas, P," Azzi whispered back. "Here's to many more."

They sealed the promise with a kiss, and outside, snow began to fall, blanketing the world in white. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The snow began falling halfway through the vows.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic. Just soft flakes drifting past the tall lodge windows, catching the glow of the string lights and candle flames like the night itself had decided to dress up for the wedding. The guests murmured quietly, breath fogging as they shifted in their seats, coats draped over chair backs, programs folded neatly in gloved hands.

Paige barely noticed any of it.

She stood at the front of the room, hands clasped in front of her, suit pressed and tailored to perfection, doing her absolute best to look like she was paying attention.

She was not.

Azzi stood a few feet away, lined up with the rest of the bridal party, wearing a deep evergreen dress that looked like it had been chosen specifically to ruin Paige’s ability to think. The fabric skimmed her frame in a way that was elegant rather than showy, the color making her skin glow warm under the lights. Her hair was swept back loosely, curls soft at her neck, just formal enough to fit the setting while still unmistakably her.

Paige had seen Azzi dressed up a thousand times.

That did not help.

Every time Azzi shifted her weight, every time her lips curved into a soft smile for the bride, Paige felt it like a tightening in her chest. The familiar ache. The quiet disbelief that this was her life now, that this woman was standing there and then would come home with her, that the rings on their fingers meant permanence rather than promise.

Azzi glanced over, just briefly.

Their eyes met.

The smile Azzi gave her then was different. Smaller. Private. It carried years of shared jokes and late nights and whispered conversations in the dark. It said I see you staring and I love that you are all at once.

Paige’s mouth curved without her permission.

Mine, she thought, steady and sure.

When the ceremony ended and the couple kissed to warm applause, Paige leaned in just enough to murmur, “You look like an angel.”

Azzi’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “You’re biased.”

“Wildly,” Paige said. “I stand by it.”

The reception hall glowed with warmth – gold lights strung across wooden beams, garlands wrapped in evergreen and berries, candles flickering on every table. Christmas music hummed softly through the speakers, the kind that felt nostalgic even while it was happening.

Paige didn’t let go of Azzi’s hand.

They moved through the room together, greeting family and friends, laughter easy, smiles constant. Paige kept a steady hand at Azzi’s lower back, thumb brushing slow, familiar circles that grounded them both. Azzi leaned into it without thinking, her body already tuned to Paige’s presence, comfort written into muscle memory.

“You’re staring again,” Azzi murmured later, lips brushing Paige’s ear as they paused near the bar.

Paige didn’t bother denying it. “Can you blame me?”

Azzi smiled, cheeks warm. “You’re married to me.”

Paige dipped her head, voice quiet and certain. “Doesn’t mean I’ll ever get used to it.”

The first dance wasn’t theirs, but Paige claimed Azzi the second the floor opened.

She didn’t ask. She never needed to.

Paige took Azzi’s hand and tugged her gently into the center of the room as a slow song drifted through the speakers, something old and sentimental, something that encouraged closeness. Azzi fit against her like she always had, easy and instinctive, as if there had never been any other way for them to stand.

Paige’s hand settled at Azzi’s waist, firm but gentle. Azzi’s arms looped around Paige’s neck, fingers brushing the edge of her collar, the familiar touch sending a quiet shiver through Paige’s spine.

“You okay?” Paige murmured.

Azzi nodded, forehead resting briefly against her shoulder. “Just really happy.”

Paige smiled into her hair. “Good.”

They swayed together, unhurried. The room faded into soft light, laughter, clinking glasses, and the steady rhythm of the music. Paige pressed a kiss to Azzi’s temple, slow and reverent.

Azzi tilted her head up instinctively.

The kiss that followed was gentle and unguarded. Not for show, though cameras flashed somewhere nearby. Just for them. When they pulled apart, Azzi smiled in that small, secret way that always undid Paige completely.

“You’re staring,” Azzi teased softly.

Paige brushed their noses together. “You’re letting me.”

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Later, when the night settled into that warm, post-dancing glow — ties loosened, shoes abandoned, laughter quieter – Paige found them a moment of stillness near the edge of the room. Snow fell heavier now, blanketing the world outside, turning everything beyond the glass into something soft and unreal.

Azzi leaned into her side, head resting against Paige’s shoulder. Paige wrapped an arm around her, thumb brushing over the ring on Azzi’s finger like she always did when she felt full to bursting.

“Best wedding I’ve ever been to,” Paige murmured.

Azzi laughed softly. “You say that about every wedding.”

Paige kissed the top of her head. “This one had you in it.”

Azzi tipped her face up, eyes warm and shining. “I love you.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

The drive home was quiet in the best way. Snow dusted the windshield, headlights carving a path through the dark. Azzi kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, fingers laced with Paige’s across the center console.

“You’ve been very quiet,” Azzi said, smiling.

Paige glanced over. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Azzi teased.

Paige squeezed her hand. “Thinking about how lucky I am.”

Azzi’s expression softened. “You know it goes both ways.”

Paige did know. She knew in the way Azzi leaned into her at night, in the way she trusted her completely, in the way she smiled when Paige walked into a room. She knew in the quiet moments more than the loud ones.

When they got home, Paige flicked on a single lamp, warm light spilling across the living room. Jackets were shrugged off, keys dropped into the bowl by the door. The house wrapped around them, familiar and safe.

Paige didn’t rush.

She never did.

“Come here,” she said softly.

Azzi moved immediately.

Paige hooked a finger through Azzi’s belt loop, grounding her there, thumb brushing over the ring again. “You were perfect tonight.”

Azzi’s shoulders dropped in quiet relief. “You say that like I was nervous.”

Paige smiled knowingly. “You always are. You just hide it better than anyone I know.”

Azzi laughed softly, then leaned in, forehead resting against Paige’s chest. “Thank you.”

Paige kissed her hair. “You did so well.”

The bedroom was dim and warm, the lamp casting golden light across rumpled sheets. Paige closed the door behind them, not locking it. She didn’t need to.

“Sit,” she murmured.

Azzi did, smoothing her dress over her knees, posture attentive but relaxed. Paige moved slowly, deliberately, every action unhurried. She let the anticipation stretch, let the quiet settle between them like a held breath.

Paige stepped close, lifting Azzi’s chin gently. “You trust me?”

Azzi met her eyes without hesitation. “Always.”

Paige leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to her lips. It was unhurried, grounding, full of promise without taking anything yet. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against Azzi’s.

“Stay with me,” Paige whispered.

Azzi nodded. “I am.”

Paige’s hand slid down to cup Azzi’s jaw, her thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “I wanted to show you something.”

Azzi’s breath caught, anticipation already pooling low in her stomach. “What?”

“Come here.” Paige took her hand, pulling her up from the bed. She guided Azzi across the room to where their full-length mirror stood in the corner, angled to catch the lamplight. The golden glow made everything look softer, warmer, like they were wrapped in honey.

Paige positioned Azzi in front of the mirror, standing behind her. Their eyes met in the reflection – Azzi still in her evergreen dress, the fabric clinging to her curves, and Paige in her wedding suit, sleeves rolled up now, tie loosened but still around her neck.

“Look at yourself,” Paige murmured against Azzi’s ear, hands settling on her hips. “Look how beautiful you are.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. Paige’s hands slid up her sides, slow and deliberate, tracing the lines of her body through the dress.

“I watched you all night,” Paige continued, voice low and intimate. “Watched everyone look at you. But you’re mine.” Her lips brushed the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” Azzi breathed.

“That’s right.” Paige’s hands moved to the zipper at the back of Azzi’s dress, pulling it down with agonizing slowness. The sound filled the quiet room. “And I wanted you to watch. Watch what I did to you. Watch yourself come apart for me.”

The dress pooled at Azzi’s feet, leaving her in just her underwear – delicate lace that Paige had picked out weeks ago. Paige’s hands skimmed over bare skin now, and Azzi shivered despite the warmth.

“Cold?” Paige asked.

“No,” Azzi managed.

Paige’s smile was visible in the mirror, knowing and tender. Her hands cupped Azzi’s breasts through the lace, thumbs brushing over nipples that were already hard. Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Eyes open,” Paige said gently. “Watch.”

Azzi forced her eyes open, meeting Paige’s gaze in the reflection as Paige unhooked her bra and slid it from her shoulders. Azzi was bare from the waist up now, and the sight made her breath come faster, her own body on display, Paige’s hands dark against her skin.

“So perfect,” Paige murmured.

And Azzi believed her.

Paige’s right hand trailed down Azzi’s stomach, fingers dancing over sensitive skin. When she reached the waistband of Azzi’s underwear, she paused.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Touch me,” Azzi whispered, eyes locked on their reflection.

“Where?” Paige’s fingers traced the edge of the lace but didn’t dip beneath.

“You know where.”

Paige’s smile turned wicked. “I want to hear you say it.”

Azzi’s face flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away from the mirror. “Touch my pussy. Please.”

“Good girl.” Paige slid her hand beneath the lace, and they both watched as her fingers disappeared between Azzi’s thighs. Azzi gasped when Paige found how wet she already was. “Fuck, baby. You were soaked.”

“I’d been thinking about this,” Azzi admitted breathlessly. “All through the reception. Watching you in that suit.”

Paige groaned softly, fingers circling Azzi’s clit with practiced ease. “Yeah? What were you thinking about?”

“Your hands,” Azzi managed, hips rolling forward into Paige’s touch. “Always your hands.”

Paige’s left hand stayed on Azzi’s breast, pinching and rolling her nipple while her right hand worked between her legs. Azzi watched it all in the mirror. Watched herself being taken apart. Watched the way her body responded to every touch.

“You were so beautiful like this,” Paige murmured. “So open for me. Look at yourself, Az. Look at how good you took what I gave you.”

Azzi’s eyes were heavy-lidded but obedient, watching as Paige’s fingers slid lower, teasing her entrance. When Paige finally pushed two fingers inside, Azzi’s knees nearly buckled.

“I’ve got you,” Paige said, her left arm wrapping around Azzi’s waist to hold her steady. “I’ve always got you.”

She set a slow, deep rhythm, fingers curling to hit that spot that made Azzi see stars. Azzi’s hand came up to grip Paige’s forearm, needing something to hold onto.

“That’s it,” Paige encouraged. “Take what you need.”

Azzi’s hips moved in time with Paige’s fingers, chasing the pleasure building inside her. She could see everything in the mirror – the way Paige’s hand moved beneath the lace, the way her own body arched and writhed, the concentration on Paige’s face as she worked her over.

“Paige,” Azzi whimpered. “I’m close.”

“Not yet.” Paige’s fingers slowed, and Azzi made a sound of protest. “I wanted to try something first.”

She withdrew her hand, and Azzi nearly cried at the loss. But then Paige was guiding her to the bed, positioning her so she sat on the edge, facing the mirror. Paige shrugged off her suit jacket, then loosened her tie completely, pulling it over her head.

“Spread your legs,” Paige said, and Azzi did, hooking her underwear to the side so she was exposed. The mirror showed everything – her flushed skin, her spread thighs, the evidence of her arousal.

Paige sat beside her, close enough that their thighs touched. She took Azzi’s hand and guided it between her own legs. “Touch yourself. I want to watch you.”

Azzi’s fingers found her clit, circling it the way she knew she liked. The sensation made her gasp, especially with Paige watching so intently.

“That was so hot,” Paige breathed. “Keep going.”

Azzi did, her fingers moving faster, building the pleasure back up. She watched herself in the mirror, watched the way her body responded, and it was almost too much – the visual combined with the physical sensation.

Then Paige was unbuttoning her dress pants, sliding her hand inside her own underwear. Azzi’s eyes widened as she realized what Paige was doing.

“You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking about this all night,” Paige said, her voice rougher now. “Watching you in that dress. Knowing what was underneath. Knowing I was the only one who got to have you like this.”

They touched themselves side by side, eyes meeting in the mirror, watching each other. It was intimate in a way that made Azzi’s chest tight – this vulnerability, this trust, this shared pleasure.

“You were so beautiful,” Azzi managed, watching the way Paige’s face changed as she touched herself. “I loved watching you.”

Paige’s free hand reached over, fingers tangling with Azzi’s free hand, holding tight. “Together,” she said. “I wanted us to come together.”

Azzi nodded, her fingers moving faster on her clit. She was so close, had been teetering on the edge since Paige first touched her. She watched Paige in the mirror, watched the way her hips rolled up into her own hand, watched the tension build in her body.

“Paige,” Azzi gasped. “I can’t – I need–”

“I know, baby. Me too.” Paige’s voice strained. “Look at me. Look at us.”

Azzi did. She looked at their reflection – two women, married, in love, pleasuring themselves and each other, connected by their joined hands and locked gazes.

“Now,” Paige breathed. “Come for me now.”

Azzi’s orgasm crashed over her, her whole body tensing as pleasure rolled through her in waves. She watched herself come apart in the mirror, watched Paige follow seconds later, her face transforming with her own release.

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing hard, hands still joined. Then Paige withdrew her hand and turned to Azzi, cupping her face and kissing her deeply.

“Not done with you yet,” Paige murmured against her lips.

She guided Azzi back on the bed, positioning her so she lay back against the pillows. Paige stripped off the rest of her clothes efficiently, then helped Azzi out of her underwear. Now they were both naked, and Paige settled between Azzi’s thighs.

“One more,” Paige said, pressing kisses to Azzi’s inner thighs. “I wanted to taste you.”

Azzi was still sensitive from her orgasm, and when Paige’s tongue found her clit, she nearly levitated off the bed. Paige held her hips down, keeping her in place as she worked her over with lips and tongue.

“Too much,” Azzi whimpered, though her hands were already in Paige’s hair, holding her there.

“Please, Azzi. I needed it,” Paige said, then sealed her lips around Azzi’s clit and sucked.

Azzi’s second orgasm built faster than the first, the oversensitivity making everything more intense. Paige knew her body too well – knew exactly how to touch her, where to lick, when to add fingers.

When Paige slid two fingers inside her again, curling them just right while her tongue worked her clit, Azzi came with a cry, her whole body shaking with the force of it.

Paige gentled her touch, bringing Azzi down slowly, pressing soft kisses to her thighs, her hip bones, her stomach. She crawled up Azzi’s body and gathered her close, pulling the blankets over them both.

“There you are,” Paige murmured, brushing sweaty hair back from Azzi’s forehead. “You did so good, baby. So perfect for me.”

Azzi made a soft, satisfied sound, already half-asleep, boneless and warm in Paige’s arms.

Later, Azzi was wrapped in blankets, loose and warm, her head tucked beneath Paige’s chin. Paige pressed a glass of water into her hand and waited until she drank.

“There you go,” she murmured.

Azzi hummed contentedly, curling closer. Paige’s hand traced slow, grounding patterns over her back.

“You okay?” Paige asked.

Azzi smiled sleepily. “More than okay.”

Paige kissed her hair. “Good.”

They lay there in the quiet, the house holding them gently. Paige’s thumb brushed over the ring again, and again.

“Still mine,” Paige murmured.

Azzi shifted, half-asleep, fingers tightening in Paige’s shirt. “Still mine.”

Paige smiled into the dark.

“Always.”

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A/N: I can’t remember who requested Stalker Paige, but here you go :)

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The first gift appeared on a Tuesday morning.

Azzi found it sitting on the hood of her car when she left for work – a small white box tied with a silver ribbon. No card, no note, just the box sitting there like it had every right to be. She glanced around the parking lot of her apartment complex, but saw no one. The early morning was quiet, just the distant hum of traffic and a few birds calling to each other.

Inside the box was a bracelet. Delicate, expensive-looking, with tiny sapphires that caught the light. Beautiful. And completely unsettling.

Azzi held it in her palm, her stomach twisting. Who would leave this? She thought immediately of her ex, but they'd ended things months ago, and it hadn't been that kind of breakup. She thought of coworkers, friends, anyone who might have a reason to give her jewelry anonymously.

She came up empty.

"That's so weird," Paige said that evening, turning the bracelet over in her hands. They were sprawled on Azzi's couch, takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, some reality show playing on mute in the background. This was their routine – had been for years. Best friends since college, and even though they'd both graduated and gotten jobs and supposedly become adults, they still ended up at each other's places most nights.

“Weird doesn't even cover it," Azzi said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It was just sitting there on my car. Like someone knew exactly where I'd parked, exactly when I'd be leaving."

Paige's blue eyes flickered with something Azzi couldn't quite read. Concern, maybe. "You think someone's watching you?"

“I don't know. Maybe? Or maybe it's just a mistake. Wrong car."

“With your name on the parking spot?" Paige raised an eyebrow. She set the bracelet down on the table, her fingers lingering on it for just a moment too long. "You should keep it. It's beautiful. Sapphires are your favorite, right?"

Azzi blinked. "I – yeah. How did you remember that?"

Paige shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips. "I remember everything about you, Az."

It should have sounded sweet. It did sound sweet. But something about the way Paige said it, the intensity in her gaze, made Azzi's skin prickle with an awareness she couldn't name.

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The second gift came four days later.

This time it was flowers – a massive bouquet of white roses and purple irises left outside Azzi's apartment door. She nearly tripped over them when she came home from her morning run, her heart jumping into her throat when she saw them sitting there.

There was a note this time, tucked into the blooms.

You looked beautiful today. You always do.

Azzi's hands shook as she read it. Someone had seen her today. Had watched her. The note was typed, printed on plain white paper, completely anonymous.

She called Paige immediately.

“I'm coming over," Paige said before Azzi could even finish explaining. "Don't touch anything else. I'll be there in ten."

She made it in seven.

Paige examined the flowers, the note, her expression dark. "This is fucked up, Az. You need to report this."

"Report what? Someone giving me flowers?"

"Someone stalking you." Paige's voice was sharp, protective. She pulled Azzi into a hug, and Azzi melted into it, breathing in the familiar scent of Paige's perfume. "I'm not letting anything happen to you, okay? I promise."

Azzi nodded against Paige's shoulder, trying to ignore the way her heart raced. From fear, she told herself. Just fear.

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Over the next two weeks, it got worse.

More notes appeared – slipped under her door, left on her car, once even tucked into her gym bag while she was in the shower at the fitness center. Each one more personal than the last.

I love the way you bite your lip when you're concentrating.

You were humming that song again today. I could listen to you forever.

I saw you laughing with your coworker. I wish I could make you laugh like that.

The notes made Azzi's skin crawl because they were right. She did bite her lip when she concentrated. She had been humming her favorite song. She had been laughing with Thomas from accounting.

Someone was watching her. Really watching her.

Paige became a constant presence. She started showing up at Azzi's apartment unannounced, calling multiple times a day to check in, insisting on walking Azzi to her car after their dinners together. Azzi should have found it suffocating, but instead she found it comforting. Paige made her feel safe.

“Maybe you should stay at my place for a while," Paige suggested one night. They were at Paige's apartment this time, and Azzi had been too nervous to go home. "Just until this blows over."

"I can't just move in with you because some creep is leaving me notes."

"Why not?" Paige's eyes were intense, almost desperate. "I have the space. You'd be safe. I could - I could take care of you."

Something in Paige's voice made Azzi pause. There was an edge to it, something raw and hungry that Azzi had never heard before.

"Paige–"

"I just mean you're my best friend," Paige said quickly, looking away. "I want you safe. That's all."

But it didn't feel like that's all.

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The breaking point came three weeks after the first gift.

Azzi was getting ready for bed when she heard it – a soft scraping sound outside her bedroom window. Her apartment was on the second floor, but there was a fire escape, and someone was out there.

She could see the shadow through her curtains.

Azzi's blood turned to ice. She grabbed her phone with shaking hands and did the only thing she could think of – she called Paige.

"Someone's outside my window," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Paige, someone's out there."

"I'm calling 911. Stay on the line with me. Don't go near the window."

The police came. They searched the fire escape, the alley below, the entire building. They found nothing – no evidence anyone had been there at all. But Azzi knew what she'd seen.

Paige arrived just as the police were leaving, and she looked frantic, her hair messy like she'd been running her hands through it, her eyes wild.

"Are you okay? Did they find anyone?" She pulled Azzi into her arms before Azzi could answer, holding her so tight it almost hurt.

"They didn't find anything," Azzi mumbled against Paige's neck. She was shaking, couldn't stop shaking. "But someone was there. I know someone was there."

"I believe you." Paige's hands moved up and down Azzi's back, soothing, possessive. "Pack a bag. You're staying with me. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Azzi didn't argue.

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She stayed at Paige's apartment for five days. Five days of Paige cooking for her, watching movies with her, sleeping in the same bed because Azzi was too scared to be alone. Five days of Paige's hands on her – innocent touches, comforting touches, but touches that lingered just a little too long.

Five days of Azzi noticing things she'd never noticed before.

The way Paige looked at her sometimes, like she was something precious and breakable. The way Paige always seemed to know what Azzi needed before she asked. The way Paige had a photo of Azzi as her phone background, and another framed on her nightstand, and several more scattered around the apartment.

That wasn't weird, was it? They were best friends. Best friends had photos of each other.

But then Azzi opened Paige's closet looking for a sweater to borrow, and she saw it.

A box. Tucked in the back corner, partially hidden behind shoe boxes and old bags.

Azzi knew she shouldn't look. Knew it was a violation of privacy. But something compelled her to pull it out, to lift the lid.

Inside were photos. Dozens of them. Hundreds, maybe.

Photos of Azzi.

Azzi at the coffee shop. Azzi at the gym. Azzi walking to her car. Azzi through her apartment window. Some of the photos were ones Paige had taken – selfies they'd posed for together, pictures from trips and parties. But others, others were taken without Azzi's knowledge. Candid shots, surveillance shots.

There were other things in the box too. A napkin with Azzi's lipstick stain on it. A hair tie. A pen Azzi had thought she'd lost. Receipts from places Azzi had been. And at the bottom, a notebook filled with Paige's handwriting.

Azzi's hands trembled as she opened it.

I watched her at the grocery store today. She was in the produce section, testing the avocados. She does this thing where she wrinkles her nose when she can't find a ripe one. It's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen. I wanted to walk up to her, help her find the perfect avocado, but I can't. She doesn't know. She can't know. Not yet.

She went on a date tonight. I followed her to the restaurant. Sat three tables away and watched him make her laugh. I wanted to kill him. Wanted to drag her out of there and tell her that no one will ever love her like I do. No one will ever worship her the way she deserves.

I left her another gift today. The bracelet with the sapphires. I've been saving it for months, waiting for the right moment. I hope she likes it. I hope she wears it and thinks of me, even if she doesn't know it's me. Everything I do is for her. Everything.

Azzi's vision blurred. Her stomach turned. She flipped through more pages, seeing months of entries, months of obsession, months of Paige watching her, following her, documenting her every move.

The stalker wasn't some stranger.

It was Paige.

It had always been Paige.

"Az? You okay in there?"

Paige's voice came from the hallway, and Azzi's heart stopped. She shoved the notebook back in the box, pushed the box back into the closet, but her hands were shaking so badly she knocked over a shoe box. It clattered to the floor.

The bedroom door opened.

Paige stood in the doorway, and her eyes went immediately to the closet, to the box that was now partially visible, to Azzi's guilty, terrified expression.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Then Paige's face crumpled. "Fuck," she whispered. "Fuck, Azzi, I–"

"It was you." Azzi's voice came out strangled. "The whole time. The gifts, the notes, the person outside my window. It was you."

"I can explain–"

"You've been stalking me!" Azzi's voice rose, cracking. "You've been watching me, following me, taking pictures of me without my knowledge. You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I am your best friend!" Paige stepped into the room, and Azzi instinctively backed up. The hurt that flashed across Paige's face was devastating. "Az, please. Just let me explain."

"Explain what? That you're obsessed with me? That you've been lying to me for months?"

"I'm not–" Paige ran her hands through her hair, looking desperate, wild. "Okay, yes. Yes, I'm obsessed with you. I have been for years. But it's not – it's not some creepy thing. I love you, Azzi. I'm in love with you."

Azzi's breath caught. "What?"

"I'm in love with you," Paige repeated, and her voice broke. "I have been since college. Maybe before. I don't even know anymore. You're all I think about. All I want. I see you every day and I have to pretend that I'm fine with being your friend, that I don't want more, that I don't dream about you every fucking night."

"So you decided to stalk me?"

"I didn't mean for it to go this far!" Paige's eyes were wet now, tears streaming down her face. "It started small. I just wanted to do nice things for you, leave you gifts, make you smile. But then I couldn't stop. I needed to see you, needed to know what you were doing, who you were with. I needed to be close to you even when I couldn't actually be with you."

"That's not love, Paige. That's–"

"It is love!" Paige closed the distance between them, and Azzi found herself backed against the wall. "It's the only kind of love I know how to give you. Consuming, desperate, all-encompassing love. I worship you, Azzi. Every part of you. The way you move, the way you laugh, the way you exist in the world. You're perfect, and I'm so fucking gone for you that I can't breathe when you're not around."

Azzi's heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst. She should be scared. Should be disgusted. Should be running for the door.

But all she could focus on was the way Paige was looking at her – like she was something divine, something worth destroying yourself over.

"You scared me," Azzi whispered. "I thought someone was going to hurt me."

"Never." Paige's hand came up to cup Azzi's face, and Azzi didn't pull away. "I would never hurt you. I'd kill anyone who tried. You're everything to me, Az. Everything."

"This is crazy."

"I know." Paige's thumb brushed across Azzi's cheekbone, and Azzi's breath hitched. "I know I'm crazy. I know this is wrong. But I can't stop. I don't want to stop. Tell me you don't feel it too. Tell me you haven't noticed the way I look at you, the way I touch you. Tell me I'm alone in this."

Azzi couldn't. Because she had noticed. Had felt the electricity between them, the tension that had been building for months, maybe years. She'd just been too scared to acknowledge it.

"Paige–"

"I need you," Paige breathed, and then her lips were on Azzi's.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, years of pent-up desire unleashed in a single moment. Azzi gasped against Paige's mouth, and Paige took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, her tongue sliding against Azzi's, claiming her.

Azzi should stop this. Should push Paige away. But instead she found herself kissing back, her hands fisting in Paige's shirt, pulling her closer.

"Tell me to stop," Paige murmured against her lips. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop."

But Azzi couldn't say it. Because it would be a lie.

"Don't stop," she whispered, and Paige made a sound that was almost a sob.

Paige kissed her again, harder this time, backing Azzi toward the bed. They fell onto it together, Paige's body covering Azzi's, and Azzi had never felt anything like this – this intensity, this need, this feeling of being completely consumed.

"I've dreamed about this," Paige said, her lips moving to Azzi's neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there. "Every night. Every fucking night I've imagined what you'd taste like, what you'd feel like under me."

Azzi arched into her, a soft moan escaping her lips. Paige's hands were everywhere – sliding under Azzi's shirt, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts.

"Can I?" Paige's fingers hooked into the hem of Azzi's shirt, and Azzi nodded, breathless.

Paige pulled the shirt off slowly, reverently, like she was unwrapping the most precious gift. Her eyes roamed over Azzi's body, and the look on her face was pure worship.

"You're so beautiful," Paige breathed. "So fucking beautiful. I could look at you forever."

She lowered her head, pressing kisses to Azzi's collarbone, her sternum, the tops of her breasts. Her hands slid around to unhook Azzi's bra, and when it fell away, Paige actually whimpered.

"Perfect," she murmured, cupping Azzi's breasts in her hands, thumbs brushing over her nipples. "You're perfect."

Azzi's back arched off the bed as Paige's mouth closed around one nipple, sucking and licking while her hand worked the other. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure shooting straight to Azzi's core.

"Paige," she gasped, her hands tangling in Paige's hair.

"I know, baby. I know." Paige kissed her way down Azzi's stomach, her hands working at the button of Azzi's jeans. "I'm going to worship every inch of you. Gonna make you feel so good you forget your own name."

She pulled Azzi's jeans and underwear off in one smooth motion, and then Azzi was completely bare beneath her. Paige sat back on her heels, just looking, and Azzi felt exposed in a way that should have been uncomfortable but instead felt right.

"I've imagined this so many times," Paige said, her voice rough. "But nothing compares to the real thing. You're a fucking goddess, Azzi."

She settled between Azzi's thighs, and Azzi's breath caught in anticipation. Paige pressed kisses to her inner thighs, taking her time, savoring every moment.

"Please," Azzi whimpered, and Paige looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes.

"Please what?"

"Touch me. Please, Paige."

"Where?" Paige's lips curved into a wicked smile. "Here?" She kissed higher on Azzi's thigh. "Or here?" Her breath ghosted over Azzi's center, and Azzi nearly came apart right then.

"There. God, please."

Paige didn't make her wait any longer. She lowered her head and licked a long, slow stripe up Azzi's center, and Azzi cried out, her hips bucking off the bed.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," Paige groaned against her. "Even better than I imagined."

She worked Azzi with her tongue, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against her clit. Azzi was lost in sensation, her hands gripping the sheets, her thighs trembling around Paige's head.

"That's it," Paige murmured. "Let me hear you. I want to hear every sound you make."

She slid two fingers inside Azzi, curling them just right, and Azzi moaned loudly, not caring who might hear. Paige's mouth and fingers worked in perfect rhythm, building Azzi higher and higher.

"You're so wet for me," Paige said, her voice full of awe. "So perfect. I could do this for hours. Could spend the rest of my life between your thighs."

The words, combined with the relentless pleasure, pushed Azzi over the edge. She came with a cry, her body shaking, waves of pleasure crashing over her. Paige worked her through it, gentling her touches as Azzi came down.

But she didn't stop.

"Again," Paige said, her fingers still moving inside Azzi. "I want to feel you come again. Want to make you come so many times you lose count."

"I can't–" Azzi gasped, oversensitive, but Paige's mouth was on her again, and the pleasure built impossibly fast.

"You can," Paige said against her. "You will. Give me another one, baby."

Azzi came again, harder this time, her vision whiting out. And then again, and again, until she was a trembling, incoherent mess, tears streaming down her face from the intensity of it.

Finally, Paige crawled back up her body, kissing her deeply. Azzi could taste herself on Paige's lips, and it should have been strange but instead it felt intimate, right.

"I love you," Paige whispered against her mouth. "I love you so fucking much it scares me."

Azzi's chest tightened. She should be angry. Should be freaked out. But lying here in Paige's arms, her body still trembling from the best orgasms of her life, all she felt was safe. Wanted. Worshipped.

"I love you too," she heard herself say, and Paige's eyes widened.

"You do?"

"I think I always have," Azzi admitted. "I just didn't let myself see it. Didn't let myself want it."

"And now?"

Azzi pulled Paige down for another kiss. "Now I want everything."

They made love again, slower this time, Paige taking her time to explore every inch of Azzi's body. She kissed every freckle, every scar, murmuring words of devotion against Azzi's skin. And when Azzi finally got her hands on Paige, got to return the worship, it felt like coming home.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, Azzi's head on Paige's chest, listening to her heartbeat.

"We should probably talk about the stalking thing," Azzi said eventually.

Paige tensed. "I know. I know it was wrong. I'll delete all the photos, throw everything away. I'll get help if you want me to. I'll do whatever you need."

"I should be more freaked out than I am," Azzi said slowly. "And maybe I will be, when this all sinks in. But right now, right now I just feel loved. Is that crazy?"

"If it is, we're both crazy." Paige pressed a kiss to the top of Azzi's head. "I meant what I said. I worship you, Azzi. Every part of you. I always will."

"Even the parts that are going to be really mad at you tomorrow when the post-orgasm haze wears off?"

Paige laughed, the sound rumbling through her chest. "Especially those parts."

Azzi smiled against her skin. They'd have to figure this out – the boundaries, the trust, the complicated mess of what they'd become. But for now, wrapped in Paige's arms, she felt safe. Cherished. Loved in a way that was probably unhealthy but felt too good to question.

"No more stalking," Azzi said firmly.

"No more stalking," Paige agreed. "I'll just have to worship you in person from now on."

"I think I can live with that."

And as Paige's hands began to wander again, as their lips met in another searing kiss, Azzi thought that maybe crazy wasn't such a bad thing after all. Not when it felt this right.

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A/N: This isn’t formatted correctly, and there are def a few errors. I’ll try to remember to fix is later! xx Elle

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The December air bit at Paige's cheeks as she stepped off the plane in Connecticut, her heart hammering against her ribs with an intensity that KK, Ice, and Sarah, booking the red-eye flight, lying through her teeth about having "family obligations" that would keep her away through the holidays. The truth was simpler and more desperate: she couldn't go another day without seeing Azzi Fudd.

One month. Thirty-one days, to be exact. Thirty-one days since she'd last felt Azzi's hands on her skin, heard that low, commanding voice that made her stomach flip, tasted those lips that she dreamed about every single night. They'd tried – FaceTime calls that stretched into the early morning hours, text messages that grew increasingly explicit as the weeks dragged on, voice notes that Paige listened to on repeat just to hear Azzi's voice. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

Ten years ago, when their story had just started, Paige was more than happy with only seeing her girlfriend once a month – she thought that was great for two long-distance high schoolers. But then they were in the same city – in the same apartment – for four years. She never went more than a week without feeling her girlfriend’s lips brush against her collarbone, without tasting her.

Paige adjusted the oversized hoodie she wore over Azzi's old UConn jersey, number 35, FUDD printed across the back in bold letters. She'd stolen it months ago and refused to give it back, and now it was her most prized possession. The fabric still smelled faintly of Azzi's perfume, that warm vanilla scent that made Paige's knees weak. She'd worn it on the plane, feeling multiple cameras on her, but she didn't care. Let them stare. She was Azzi Fudd's, and she wanted everyone to know it.

The Uber ride to Gampel Pavilion felt endless. Paige bounced her knee anxiously, checking her phone every thirty seconds even though she knew she couldn't text Azzi. The surprise would be ruined. Instead, she scrolled through their message thread, rereading Azzi's texts from earlier that day.

Wifey 💍💗: Miss you, baby. Big game tonight. Wish you could be here.

My Love 💗🤠: I know, Az. You're gonna kill it though. I'll be watching.

If only Azzi knew that "watching" meant from the stands, not from her apartment three states away.

Paige had coordinated everything with Ice, who'd been all too eager to help orchestrate the surprise. She'd secured Paige a seat right behind the UConn bench, close enough that Azzi would definitely see her once she looked up. The plan was simple: wait until halftime, let Azzi spot her in the crowd, and watch her girlfriend's face light up with that smile that made Paige's entire world make sense.

The arena was already packed when Paige arrived, the energy electric with holiday spirit and hometown pride. Christmas decorations adorned the concourse, and the student section was decked out in Santa hats and ugly sweaters. Paige kept her hood up as she made her way to her seat, not wanting to be recognized before the right moment. A few fans did double-takes, but she moved quickly, sliding into her spot just as the teams were finishing warm-ups.

And then she saw her.

Azzi moved across the court with that effortless grace that had first caught Paige's attention years ago. Her dark hair was pulled back in her signature braids, and even from a distance, Paige could see the fierce concentration on her face as she ran through her shooting routine. Three-pointer after three-pointer swished through the net, each one more beautiful than the last. Paige's chest tightened with pride and longing and something deeper, something that made her want to vault over the barrier and tackle Azzi right there on the court.

God, she was so beautiful. How had Paige survived a month without this?

The game started, and Paige forced herself to stay seated, to play it cool even though every cell in her body was screaming to get Azzi's attention. She watched as Azzi dominated on both ends of the floor – a steal here, a perfect assist there, a fadeaway jumper that looked even more perfect than her own. Paige cheered along with everyone else, her voice getting lost in the roar, her eyes never leaving number 35.

Halftime couldn't come fast enough.

When the buzzer finally sounded, Paige stood up and pulled off her hoodie in one smooth motion, revealing the jersey underneath. FUDD. She wanted Azzi to see it, to know exactly who she belonged to. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest.

The team was heading toward the tunnel when KK, bless her, grabbed Azzi's arm and pointed directly at Paige.

Paige watched as Azzi's gaze followed KK’s finger, watched as her eyes landed on Paige and went wide with shock. For a moment, Azzi just stood there, frozen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. Then her face broke into the most radiant smile Paige had ever seen, and suddenly she was moving, jogging toward the stands with her teammates calling after her.

"Paige?" Azzi's voice was breathless, disbelieving. "What the fuck? You're supposed to be–"

"Surprise," Paige said, and her own voice came out shaky with emotion. "Merry Christmas, baby."

Azzi reached up, and Paige leaned down over the barrier, their hands clasping together. The contact sent electricity shooting up Paige's arm, and she had to physically restrain herself from climbing over and kissing Azzi senseless in front of thousands of people.

"I can't believe you're here," Azzi said, squeezing Paige's hands so hard it almost hurt. Her eyes were shining, and Paige could see her throat working as she swallowed hard. "How did you – when did you–"

"I'll explain everything later," Paige promised. "Just play your game, Az. I'll be right here watching."

Azzi nodded, but she didn't let go of Paige's hands. "You're wearing my jersey."

"Of course I am. I'm yours, aren't I?"

Something dark and possessive flashed in Azzi's eyes, and Paige felt heat pool low in her belly. She knew that look. She'd been dreaming about that look for thirty-one days.

"We're talking after this game," Azzi said, her voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that made Paige's knees weak. "You and me. Alone."

"Yes," Paige breathed. "Please."

Azzi finally released her hands and jogged back to the tunnel, but not before looking back over her shoulder one more time, as if to make sure Paige was really there. Paige waved, grinning like an idiot, and settled back into her seat for the second half.

If Azzi had been good in the first half, she was unstoppable in the second. She played like a woman possessed, racking up points and assists with ruthless efficiency. Every time she scored, she'd glance up at Paige, and Paige would cheer louder than anyone else in the arena. By the time the final buzzer sounded – UConn winning by twenty-eight – Paige was hoarse from screaming and vibrating with anticipation.

The post-game routine felt like it took hours. Paige waited in the family area, trying to be patient as Azzi did her media obligations and showered. Nika winked at her as the team filed past, and a few other players offered knowing smiles. Apparently, everyone had been in on the surprise except Azzi.

Finally – finally – Azzi emerged from the locker room in sweats and a UConn hoodie, her hair still damp, her bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes immediately found Paige, and the intensity of her gaze made Paige's breath catch.

"Hi," Paige said stupidly.

"Hi yourself," Azzi replied, closing the distance between them in three long strides. "Come here."

She pulled Paige into a hug that felt like coming home. Paige buried her face in Azzi's neck, breathing in that familiar scent, feeling Azzi's strong arms wrap around her waist. They stood like that for a long moment, just holding each other, and Paige felt tears prick at her eyes.

"I missed you so much," she whispered against Azzi's skin. "So fucking much, Az."

"I know, baby. I missed you too." Azzi's hand came up to cradle the back of Paige's head, her fingers threading through blonde hair. "Let's get out of here."

The drive to Azzi's apartment was torture. They sat in the back of the Uber with their hands clasped together, not talking, just stealing glances at each other. Paige could feel the tension building, thick and electric, and she squeezed Azzi's hand so hard her knuckles went white.

"You're shaking," Azzi observed quietly.

"I know." Paige's voice came out breathy and desperate. "I just – I need–"

"I know what you need." Azzi's thumb traced circles on the back of Paige's hand. "Be patient for me."

But patience had never been Paige's strong suit, and by the time they finally made it inside Azzi's apartment, she was practically crawling out of her skin with need. The door had barely closed before she was pressing Azzi against it, her hands fisting in Azzi's hoodie, her mouth seeking Azzi's in a kiss that was more desperation than finesse.

Azzi made a surprised sound but quickly took control, her hands coming up to frame Paige's face as she deepened the kiss. She tasted like mint and something uniquely Azzi, and Paige moaned into her mouth, pressing closer, needing more.

"Fuck, Paige," Azzi breathed when they finally broke apart. "You really are desperate for it, aren't you?"

"Yes," Paige whimpered, already tugging at Azzi's clothes. "Please, Az. I need you. I've been going crazy without you."

"I can tell." Azzi caught Paige's wrists, pinning them gently against the door above her head. "My needy little slut missed me, didn't she?"

The words sent a jolt of arousal straight through Paige's core, and she let out a desperate whimper. God, she'd missed this – missed the way Azzi could reduce her to nothing with just a few words, missed being owned so completely.

"Yes," she gasped. "Missed you so much. Missed being yours."

"That's right. You're mine." Azzi's grip on her wrists tightened. "Say it."

"I'm yours," Paige breathed. "All yours, Az. Your slut. Please–"

"Shh." Azzi leaned in to press a kiss to Paige's jaw. "I've got you, baby. But you're going to be good for me, right? You're going to do exactly what I say?"

"Yes," Paige gasped. "Anything. I'll do anything."

Azzi smiled against her skin. "That's my good little whore."

She released Paige's wrists and stepped back, her eyes raking over Paige's body with an appreciation that made Paige feel like she was burning up from the inside out. "Take off the hoodie. Slowly."

Paige's hands trembled as she obeyed, pulling the hoodie over her head to reveal the jersey underneath. Azzi's jersey. The possessive gleam in Azzi's eyes intensified.

"Fuck, you look good in my name," Azzi said, her voice rough. "Turn around. Let me see."

Paige turned, presenting her back, knowing Azzi was staring at FUDD written across her shoulders. She heard Azzi's sharp intake of breath and felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"You wore this to the game," Azzi said. It wasn't a question.

"I wanted everyone to know I'm yours," Paige admitted, looking back over her shoulder. "Wanted you to see it and remember that I belong to you."

"Jesus Christ, Paige." Azzi closed the distance between them, her hands sliding around Paige's waist from behind. "You're going to be the death of me. My perfect little slut, wearing my name for everyone to see."

She pulled Paige back against her chest, and Paige could feel the heat of her body, the strength in her arms. Azzi's hands slid under the jersey, splaying across Paige's stomach, and Paige whimpered at the contact.

"Bedroom," Azzi commanded. "Now."

Paige practically ran, and she heard Azzi's low chuckle behind her. The bedroom was exactly as Paige remembered – neat and organized, with a full-length mirror positioned across from the bed. Paige's pulse quickened as she remembered all the times they'd used that mirror, all the ways Azzi had made her watch herself fall apart.

"Strip," Azzi ordered from the doorway. "Everything except the jersey."

Paige's hands shook as she obeyed, pushing down her jeans and underwear, kicking off her shoes. She stood there in just the jersey and her socks, feeling exposed and vulnerable and so turned on she could barely think straight.

Azzi took her time, leaning against the doorframe and just watching. Her gaze was heavy and possessive, tracking over every inch of Paige's body, and Paige squirmed under the attention.

"Az, please," she whined. "Stop teasing."

"I'm not teasing. I'm appreciating what's mine." Azzi pushed off the doorframe and started pulling off her own clothes. "It's been a month since I've had my whore. I want to savor this."

But there was nothing slow about the way she stripped down to just her sports bra and boxer briefs, revealing the toned abs and strong thighs that Paige had been fantasizing about for weeks. And there, glinting in her navel, was the belly button ring that Azzi had gotten over the summer – a simple silver barbell that Paige was absolutely obsessed with.

Paige's eyes locked onto it immediately, and she felt her mouth go dry. She didn't know what it was about that stupid piece of jewelry, but it drove her absolutely insane. Maybe it was the way it drew attention to Azzi's incredible abs, or the way it moved when Azzi breathed, or just the fact that it was somehow both innocent and incredibly sexy. Whatever the reason, Paige couldn't look away.

"I see where your attention is," Azzi said with amusement, running a finger over her stomach. "You and this piercing. Such a desperate little slut for it, aren't you?"

"Can't help it," Paige mumbled, her cheeks flushing. "It's so fucking hot."

"Yeah?" Azzi walked closer, stopping right in front of Paige. "You want to touch it?"

"Yes," Paige breathed. "Please."

"Then touch it. Show me how much my whore missed me."

Paige reached out with trembling fingers, tracing the silver barbell, feeling the warmth of Azzi's skin beneath. Azzi's abs flexed under her touch, and Paige let out a small moan. She was so turned on it was almost painful, and they'd barely even started.

"You're so beautiful," Paige whispered, her fingers exploring the defined muscles of Azzi's stomach. "I can't believe I went a whole month without seeing you like this."

"Never again," Azzi rasped, catching Paige's hand and bringing it to her lips. "I'm not letting you go anywhere for a very long time. You're mine, and I'm keeping you."

The promise hit – even though they both knew Paige would be in Miami for the next three months.

She guided Paige to the bed, positioning her so she was sitting on the edge facing the mirror. Paige could see herself – flushed and desperate, wearing Azzi's jersey, her thighs already glistening with arousal. Behind her, Azzi stood tall and commanding, her hands resting on Paige's shoulders.

"Look at yourself," Azzi instructed. "I want you to watch everything I do to you. Want you to see what a needy little slut you are for me."

Paige nodded, her eyes glued to their reflection. Azzi's hands slid down from her shoulders, over her chest, teasing her nipples through the jersey fabric. Paige arched into the touch, a whimper escaping her lips.

"So responsive," Azzi murmured, her lips brushing Paige's ear. "So desperate for me. Were you touching yourself while I was gone? Thinking about me?"

"Every night," Paige admitted breathlessly. "But it wasn't the same. My fingers aren't as good as yours. Nothing is as good as you."

"Poor baby." Azzi's hands continued their exploration, sliding down Paige's stomach, over her thighs, everywhere except where Paige needed her most. "All alone, so needy, wishing I was there to use you properly."

"Please," Paige begged, spreading her legs wider in invitation. "Please, Az. I need you so bad. Need you to – to use me. I'm yours."

"I know you are." Finally Azzi's fingers slid between Paige's thighs, and they both groaned at what they found there. "Fuck, you're soaked. Look at this mess. Such a filthy little whore for me."

"Yes," Paige gasped as Azzi's fingers began to move in slow, torturous circles. "Your whore. Only yours."

"That's right. My property." Azzi's other hand came up to wrap around Paige's throat, not squeezing, just holding, just reminding Paige who was in control. "Say it again."

"I'm your property," Paige whimpered, her hips rolling desperately seeking more friction. "Yours to use however you want."

"Eyes on the mirror," Azzi reminded her when Paige's head started to fall back. "Watch yourself. Watch how pretty you look when I touch you. Watch what a desperate slut you are for me."

Paige forced her eyes open, watching as Azzi's hand worked between her legs, as her own hips rolled desperately seeking more friction. She looked wrecked already, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, the jersey riding up to reveal her stomach. And Azzi behind her, so strong and commanding, owning her completely.

"That's it," Azzi encouraged. "So good for me. So beautiful. My perfect little slut."

Paige was already close, wound so tight from a month of separation and anticipation that it wouldn't take much to push her over the edge. But just as she felt her orgasm building, Azzi's fingers slowed, then stopped altogether.

"No," Paige whined, trying to rock her hips. "No, please, I was so close–"

"I know." Azzi pressed a kiss to her temple. "But you don't get to come yet. Not until I say so. You're mine to control, remember?"

Paige made a sound of pure frustration, and Azzi laughed softly. "Patience, baby. I told you we're doing this my way."

She moved around to stand in front of Paige, and Paige's eyes immediately went to her abs, to that piercing that she couldn't stop thinking about. Azzi noticed, of course, and her smile turned wicked.

"You want to taste it, don't you?" She asked, running her own finger over the jewelry. "Want to put your mouth on me like the good little whore you are?"

"Yes," Paige breathed. "Please. Let me worship you."

"Then come here."

Azzi lay back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows, and Paige scrambled to follow. She positioned herself between Azzi's legs, her face level with that perfect stomach, and just stared for a moment, taking it all in. The defined muscles, the smooth skin, the silver barbell catching the light.

"You're staring," Azzi observed, amusement in her voice.

"Can't help it." Paige leaned down, pressing a kiss just below Azzi's navel. "You're perfect. And I'm yours."

She let her tongue trace the lines of Azzi's abs, tasting salt and skin, feeling the muscles flex beneath her mouth. When she reached the piercing, she took her time, her tongue playing with the jewelry, her lips closing around it to suck gently.

Azzi's hand came down to tangle in Paige's hair, not pulling, just holding her there. "Fuck, that feels good. Such a good little slut for me."

Encouraged, Paige continued her exploration, kissing and licking and sucking, paying special attention to the piercing that fascinated her so much. She could feel Azzi's abs tensing under her mouth, could hear the slight hitch in her breathing, and it made her feel powerful in a way that contrasted beautifully with her earlier desperation.

"Okay," Azzi said after a few minutes, her voice strained. "That's enough of that, or I'm going to lose my mind."

She pulled Paige up for a deep kiss, and Paige could taste herself on Azzi's lips from earlier. It was dirty and intimate and perfect.

"I want you to ride my abs," Azzi said when they broke apart. "Want to feel how wet you are, want to watch my desperate little whore use me to get off."

Paige moaned at the words alone. "Yes. Fuck, yes. Please let me."

Azzi helped position her, straddling her stomach, and the first contact of Paige's wetness against Azzi's skin made them both gasp. Paige braced her hands on Azzi's shoulders and started to move, rolling her hips, grinding down against those perfect abs.

"That's it," Azzi encouraged, her hands gripping Paige's hips to guide her movements. "Take what you need, baby. Make a mess on me. Show me what a filthy little slut you are."

Paige was already whimpering, the friction perfect, the visual of Azzi beneath her overwhelming. She could feel the piercing rubbing against her with each movement, adding an extra sensation that made her head spin.

"You look so good like this," Azzi continued, her voice low and rough. "Wearing my jersey, riding me, so desperate and needy. My perfect little whore. Mine to use. Mine to fuck."

"Yours," Paige gasped. "All yours, Az. Only yours. Please – please can I–"

"No." Azzi said firmly, and Paige let out a sob of frustration. "You come when I say you can. You're mine, and I decide when my slut gets to come."

Paige's movements became more frantic, chasing the orgasm that was being denied, and Azzi's grip on her hips tightened, controlling her pace, keeping her right on the edge but not letting her tip over.

"Please," Paige begged, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Az. I need it. I need to come. I'm yours, I'm your whore, please let me–"

"Beg me properly," Azzi commanded. "Tell me what you are."

"I'm your slut," Paige sobbed. "Your whore. Your property. Yours to use however you want. Please, please let me come. I'll do anything."

"You going to make a mess all over my stomach?" Azzi asked. "Going to show me what a filthy little slut you are?"

"Yes," Paige gasped. "Yes, please, I want to – want to come for you.”

"Come," Azzi commanded. "Come for me right now."

Paige shattered, her orgasm crashing over her with an intensity that made her vision white out. She felt herself gush, felt the wetness spreading across Azzi's abs, and the knowledge that she was marking Azzi, claiming her, made it even more intense. She rode it out, her hips still moving in small circles, until she was trembling and oversensitive.

"Holy shit," Azzi breathed, looking down at her stomach, which was now covered in Paige's release. "Baby, you squirted. Look at the mess you made."

Paige collapsed forward, burying her burning face in Azzi's neck. "I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Don't apologize." Azzi's arms came around her, holding her close. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. My filthy little slut, making such a mess on me. But we're not done yet."

She rolled them over so Paige was on her back, and Paige looked up at her with hazy, satisfied eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Azzi said, positioning herself over Paige's face, "you're going to clean up the mess you made. Like a good little whore."

Paige's eyes widened as she realized what Azzi was asking, her gaze dropping to Azzi's stomach, still glistening with her release. The piercing was covered too, and something about that made fresh heat pool between Paige's legs despite having just come.

"Lick it off," Azzi instructed. "All of it. I want to feel your tongue on every inch of my stomach. Show me what a good slut you are for me."

Paige didn't need to be told twice. She pulled Azzi down, her tongue immediately going to work, licking broad stripes across Azzi's abs, tasting herself mixed with Azzi's skin. It was filthy and intimate and so incredibly hot that Paige felt herself getting worked up again already.

She paid special attention to the piercing, her tongue swirling around it, cleaning every bit of wetness from the jewelry. Azzi's breathing had gone ragged above her, and Paige could feel her abs flexing with each pass of her tongue.

"Fuck, Paige," Azzi groaned. "Your mouth feels so good. Such a good little whore for me."

Paige hummed in response, continuing her thorough cleaning until every trace of her orgasm was gone and Azzi's stomach was just wet with her saliva. Only then did she pull back, looking up at Azzi with wide, innocent eyes.

"All clean," she said softly.

"Good girl." Azzi leaned down to kiss her deeply, tasting herself on Paige's tongue. "Such a good girl for me. My perfect little slut."

She reached over to her nightstand, pulling out a harness and a dildo that made Paige's eyes go wide. It had been a month since she'd taken Azzi like this, and her body clenched in anticipation.

"Think you can handle it?" Azzi asked, securing the harness around her hips. "Or is my whore too sensitive?"

"I can handle it," Paige said, even though she was already trembling. "I want it. Want you inside me. Want you to use me."

"Yeah?" Azzi positioned herself between Paige's legs, running the tip of the dildo through her wetness. "Want me to fuck you while you watch in the mirror? Want to see what you look like when I use you?"

Paige's eyes darted to the mirror, where she could see herself spread out on the bed, still wearing Azzi's jersey, with Azzi positioned between her thighs. "Yes. Please. Use me. I'm yours."

Azzi pushed in slowly, and Paige's back arched off the bed at the stretch. It had been too long, and she felt every inch as Azzi filled her completely. When Azzi was fully seated, they both paused, breathing hard.

"Okay?" Azzi asked, her hand coming up to cup Paige's face with surprising tenderness.

"So okay," Paige managed. "Move. Please move. Fuck me. Use me."

Azzi started with slow, deep thrusts, and Paige couldn't look away from the mirror. She could see everything – the way Azzi's muscles flexed with each movement, the way her own body accepted Azzi so perfectly, the way the jersey had ridden up to expose her breasts.

"Eyes on me," Azzi said, and Paige dragged her gaze from the mirror to meet Azzi's eyes. "There you are. My beautiful girl. My perfect little slut."

She picked up the pace, and Paige wrapped her legs around Azzi's waist, pulling her deeper. The angle was perfect, hitting spots that made Paige see stars, and she could already feel another orgasm building despite having just come.

"Az," she gasped. "I'm – it's too much–"

"You can take it," Azzi assured her, one hand sliding down to rub circles on Paige's clit. "I know you can. You're going to come for me again, baby. Going to come on my cock like the good little whore you are. Because that's what you are, isn't it? My whore. Mine to fuck. Mine to use."

Paige was sobbing now, overwhelmed by sensation, by emotion, by the sheer intensity of having Azzi back after so long apart. "Yes. Your whore. Yours to use. I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Azzi said, leaning down to kiss her. "So much, Paige. My perfect girl. Now come for me. Come for me right now."

The orgasm hit her like a freight train, even more intense than the first. Her whole body convulsed, and she felt herself gush again, making an even bigger mess. Azzi fucked her through it, prolonging the pleasure until Paige was begging her to stop, too sensitive to take anymore.

"I've got you," Azzi soothed, pulling out carefully and removing the harness. She gathered Paige into her arms, holding her as she came down from the high. "I've got you, baby. You did so good. So perfect for me."

Paige clung to her, trembling and spent, feeling tears leak from the corners of her eyes. "That was – I can't–"

"I know." Azzi pressed kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, her voice soft and loving now. "I know, baby. You were so good. My perfect girl."

They lay like that for a long time, just holding each other, reconnecting in the aftermath. Eventually, Azzi got up to get a warm washcloth, cleaning Paige gently before climbing back into bed and pulling her close.

"I can't believe you flew all the way here to surprise me," Azzi said softly, her fingers tracing patterns on Paige's back. "That was the best Christmas present ever."

"I couldn't stay away," Paige admitted, snuggling closer. "I tried, but I just missed you too much. Needed to see you, touch you, be with you. Be yours again."

"You're always mine," Azzi said firmly. "Distance doesn't change that. You're mine, Paige. My girl. My everything."

"I'm glad you came." Azzi tilted Paige's chin up for a soft kiss. "How long can you stay?"

"I have to fly back on the 27th," Paige said reluctantly. "But until then, I'm all yours."

"Good." Azzi's arms tightened around her. "Because I'm not letting you out of this bed for at least the next twenty-four hours."

Paige laughed, feeling lighter and happier than she had in weeks. "I can live with that."

They fell asleep tangled together, Paige still wearing Azzi's jersey, both of them finally complete after too long apart. Outside, snow began to fall, blanketing Connecticut in white, but inside Azzi's apartment, everything was warm and perfect.

When Paige woke up a few hours later, it was to the feeling of Azzi's lips on her neck, her hands sliding under the jersey to cup her breasts.

"Again?" Paige asked sleepily, though she was already arching into the touch.

"I told you," Azzi murmured against her skin. "I have a month to make up for. We're just getting started. And my little slut is going to take everything I give her, isn't she?"

"Yes," Paige breathed, already spreading her legs. "Anything. Use me. I'm yours."

And as Azzi's hand slid between her thighs once more, Paige decided that this was exactly how she wanted to spend Christmas – wrapped up in Azzi Fudd, wearing her name, being reminded over and over again exactly who she belonged to.

The jersey stayed on for round two, and round three, and even into round four when Azzi finally stripped it off so she could worship every inch of Paige's body properly, though even then, the degrading words continued, Azzi calling her "my filthy little slut" and "desperate whore" as she made Paige come over and over again.

By the time Christmas morning arrived, they were both exhausted and satisfied and so deeply in love that it hurt in the best possible way.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Azzi whispered, pulling Paige close as the sun rose over Connecticut, her voice tender and loving.

"Merry Christmas, Az," Paige replied, pressing a kiss over Azzi's heart. "Best one ever."

And it was. Because they were together, and that was all that mattered.

Later, when they finally emerged from the bedroom, Paige wearing Azzi's jersey again because she refused to take it off, they made breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes and pouring coffee. Azzi's teammates texted to check in, and Paige sent them all a photo of her and Azzi together, both grinning like idiots, with the caption: Best surprise ever. Thanks for the help.

The responses came flooding in – heart emojis and congratulations and more than a few teasing comments about how they'd better not be late to Christmas dinner at Genno’s later.

"We should probably shower before we go," Azzi said, eyeing Paige with amusement. "You look thoroughly fucked."

"I wonder whose fault that is," Paige shot back, but she was smiling. "Fine. But you're joining me."

"Obviously."

The shower turned into another round – Paige pressed against the tiles, Azzi's fingers inside her, whispering "my desperate little whore" and "so needy for me" as Paige came apart under her touch. By the time they finally made it to Geno’s house for Christmas dinner, they were an hour late and couldn't stop touching each other.

"You two are annoying," Geno snarked when they walked in, but he was grinning. "But I'm happy for you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Paige and Azzi chorused, and Paige felt Azzi's hand slip into hers, their fingers interlacing.

The rest of the Auriemma family was there, and they spent the evening eating too much food, exchanging gifts, and laughing until their sides hurt. But through it all, Paige kept catching Azzi's eye across the room, kept feeling that pull between them that never seemed to fade.

When they finally made it back to Azzi's apartment that night, exhausted and happy, Paige pulled Azzi down onto the couch and into her arms.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For everything. For being you. For loving me. For giving me what I need."

Azzi knew exactly what she meant. "Always," she promised, kissing her slowly. "You're stuck with me, Bueckers. And I'll always give you what you need – in the bedroom and out of it."

"Good," Paige replied. "Because I'm never letting you go."

And she meant it. Whatever challenges they faced, whatever distance separated them, they would figure it out. Because this, what they had together, was worth fighting for.

Paige fell asleep that night with her head on Azzi's chest, listening to her heartbeat, wearing her jersey, and feeling more at home than she ever had anywhere else. Because home wasn't a place. It was a person. And her person was Azzi Fudd.

The next few days passed in a blissful haze. They barely left the apartment, spending their time making love, talking, watching movies, and just being together. Azzi had a few practices she couldn't miss, but Paige went with her, sitting in the stands and watching her girlfriend dominate on the court.

And every night, they fell into bed together, exploring each other with the desperation of people who knew their time was limited. Paige became intimately familiar with every inch of Azzi's body, especially that piercing that she couldn't stop touching, kissing, licking. Azzi indulged her obsession with patient amusement, letting Paige spend as much time as she wanted worshipping her abs.

"You're ridiculous," Azzi said one night as Paige's tongue traced the jewelry for what had to be the hundredth time.

"You love it," Paige replied, looking up at her with a grin.

"I love you," Azzi corrected, pulling her up for a kiss. "Even if you are obsessed with my belly button."

"It's not my fault you're so hot," Paige defended. "And that piercing is just – ugh. It does things to me."

"I've noticed." Azzi rolled them over, pinning Paige beneath her. "But now it's my turn to do things to you. And my little slut is going to take everything I give her."

And she did, over and over, until Paige was a trembling, oversensitive mess, begging for mercy that Azzi only sometimes granted. The degrading words never stopped – "desperate whore," "filthy slut," "mine to use" – and Paige loved every second of it, loved being owned so completely.

The morning of the 27th came too quickly. Paige's flight was at noon, and they both woke up early, neither wanting to waste a single moment of their remaining time together.

"I don't want to go," Paige said, her voice thick with emotion as they lay tangled together in bed.

"I know." Azzi held her tighter. "But it's only a few more weeks until break is over. And then we'll figure out a better schedule, okay? More visits. More time together."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Azzi kissed her forehead. "I'm not going another month without seeing you. I can't. I need my girl."

They made love one more time, slow and sweet and tinged with sadness. The degrading words were absent this time, replaced with "I love you" and "you're so beautiful" and "my perfect girl." Paige tried to memorize everything – the feel of Azzi's skin, the sound of her breathing, the way she looked in the morning light. She wanted to carry it all with her.

At the airport, they held each other for a long time, neither wanting to let go.

"I love you," Paige whispered. "So much."

"I love you too," Azzi replied. "Text me when you land?"

"Of course."

One more kiss, and then Paige forced herself to walk away, looking back over her shoulder to see Azzi standing there, watching her go. She was wearing Paige's hoodie, the one Paige had worn over the jersey, and Paige felt her heart clench.

The flight home was long and lonely, but Paige spent it looking through photos on her phone, pictures of her and Azzi together, selfies they'd taken in bed, a video of Azzi laughing at something Paige had said. She had the jersey in her bag, freshly washed but still smelling faintly of Azzi, and she knew she'd be sleeping in it every night until they saw each other again.

When she landed, she texted Azzi immediately.

My Love 💗🤠: Made it to Miami. Miss you alread.

The response came seconds later.

Wifey 💍💗: Miss you too, baby. Miss my girl. Can't wait to see you again. Love you.

My Love 💗🤠: Love you more 💗

Paige typed back, smiling through her tears.

It wasn't perfect. Long distance was hard, and there would be more separations, more lonely nights, more desperate countdowns until they could be together again. But they had each other, and they had this – this love that was strong enough to survive anything.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Paige’s lap was warm.

That was Azzi’s first coherent thought as she settled back against her, the plush red fabric of the Santa suit soft beneath her thighs, Paige’s gloved hands firm at her waist like they belonged there. The second thought was that this was a terrible idea. The third was that she was not moving unless Paige physically lifted her.

The breakroom smelled like cheap coffee and cinnamon air freshener. The fluorescent lights made everything look too bright, too honest, like they were not supposed to be doing this before a shift that involved children and families and a whole lot of forced cheer.

Azzi adjusted the edge of her elf hat, the little bell at the tip chiming as she shifted. It made Paige’s hands tighten just a fraction, not enough for anyone to notice if they walked in, but enough for Azzi to feel it all the way down her spine.

“You’re early,” Paige murmured near her ear, voice already pitched low, half Santa, half Paige, all trouble.

Azzi tilted her head just enough to glance back. “So are you.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh. “Santa’s got to be ready before the elves.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, dramatic, but she didn’t stand. Her green-and-red costume was fitted in a way that felt like a personal attack. Whoever ordered these uniforms had to hate women. Or love them. Azzi could never tell with management.

She bounced her knee once, like she was restless, like she did not know exactly what she was doing.

Paige did.

The chair creaked softly beneath them. Paige shifted, and Azzi felt the change immediately. She hated how aware she was of Paige’s body. Hated how easy it was to forget they were supposed to be casual. Friends. Coworkers. Friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. Situationship partner. Whatever the fuck they were that day.

They never did.

“Careful,” Paige said. “You’re going to get us in trouble before the shift even starts.”

Azzi smiled sweetly. “You put a chair in here for a reason.”

“For breaks,” Paige replied, but her hands stayed at Azzi’s waist. “Not for… whatever this is.”

Azzi leaned back more fully, like she belonged. “Feels like a break to me.”

Paige went still. For one long second, Azzi wondered if she had pushed too far, if Paige would finally pull back, stand up, draw a line.

Instead, Paige’s thumb brushed lightly at Azzi’s side, just above the waistband of her tights, a tiny motion that felt like a warning and a promise at the same time.

“Get up,” Paige said softly. “Doors open in five.”

Azzi turned her head, lips close enough to Paige’s cheek that it was almost unfair. “Make me.”

Paige’s breath hitched, barely. She recovered fast, because Paige always recovered fast.

“Don’t start,” Paige said, calm as a lake hiding something cold underneath.

Azzi’s grin widened. “I didn’t start anything. I just sat down.”

Paige’s hands tightened, then eased, like she was practicing restraint. “Azzi.”

It came out as a quiet reprimand, but it did something to Azzi anyway. She stood slowly, smoothing her costume with exaggerated innocence, bell jingling again as she stepped away.

Paige watched her. Azzi pretended she didn’t notice.

She grabbed her clipboard, her lanyard, and the bright red number tickets that kept the line from turning into chaos. She leaned over Paige’s shoulder as if she needed to check something on the schedule posted on the wall, but really she just wanted to be close enough to make Paige remember.

“It’s going to be a long day,” Azzi said.

Paige’s eyes flicked to her mouth for half a second, then back up. “Yeah.”

Azzi tapped Paige’s shoulder, light. “Try not to get coal in your stocking.”

Paige’s smile turned slow. “Try not to sit in my lap where everyone can see.”

Azzi’s bell chimed as she walked away. “No promises.”

Behind her, Paige muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Lord help me.”

Azzi pretended she didn’t hear it. But her cheeks stayed warm all the way out to the photo set.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The mall was already buzzing.

Christmas music drifted through the air, loud enough to be cheerful and annoying at the same time. Lights twinkled on the big artificial tree near the escalator. Fake snow sprinkled the branches and the tops of storefront displays like a threat.

Families gathered in clusters near the Santa set, some excited, some stressed, some already tired. Little kids clutched candy canes. Parents adjusted coats and fixed hair and tried to look like they were not about to lose their minds.

Azzi took her place near the front of the line, bright smile on, clipboard in hand.

She was good at this job. She always had been.

She knew how to coax a shy kid forward. How to reassure the nervous ones. How to keep the impatient parents from taking out their holiday stress on minimum wage workers.

Today, though, she kept looking over her shoulder.

Paige settled onto the big red chair like she had been made for it, white beard in place, Santa hat tipped just right. The suit made her broader, bigger, more imposing, but somehow it also made her look softer. The kind of Santa kids trusted instantly.

Azzi hated that it worked so well.

Paige’s eyes found Azzi almost immediately. They crinkled at the corners, warm, amused.

Azzi swallowed and forced her focus back to the family in front of her. A mom with two little boys, both hyped up like they had eaten sugar for breakfast.

“Hi, friends!” Azzi chirped, voice bright. “You’re next. What are your names?”

The older boy puffed out his chest. “Miles.”

The younger clung to his mom’s leg. “Eli.”

Azzi crouched to Eli’s level. “Hi, Eli. Santa is really nice, okay? He just wants to hear what you want for Christmas.”

Eli peered around her and spotted Santa. Paige lifted a gloved hand and gave the smallest wave.

Eli’s shoulders relaxed a little.

Azzi stood, guiding them forward. “Okay, Miles, you can go first.”

Miles hopped up onto Paige’s lap like he had been waiting for this all year. Paige’s “Ho ho ho” came out perfect, warm and deep, the kind of sound that made parents smile.

Azzi watched Paige for a beat too long, because it was hard not to. Paige had a way of turning on charm like a switch.

And Azzi knew what Paige was like when the switch was off.

It made it worse.

The photographer counted down. “Three, two, one.”

The flash popped.

Miles grinned. Eli hesitated. Paige patted her knee, gentle and inviting.

Eli climbed up slowly, and Paige steadied him like he was precious.

Azzi’s throat tightened unexpectedly.

Paige looked up at her again, like she could read Azzi’s thoughts through the beard. Her gaze held Azzi’s for a second too long, intimate in a room full of strangers.

Azzi forced her smile wider.

Professional. Cheerful. Normal.

She handed Paige the next ticket once the family moved on. Her fingers brushed Paige’s glove, brief contact that still made heat lick up her arm.

“Santa,” Azzi said, bright, “you’re doing great. The kids love you.”

Paige leaned forward, voice pitched low enough that only Azzi could hear. “You keep standing that close, I’m going to start believing in Christmas miracles.”

Azzi’s smile didn’t falter. “Behave.”

Paige laughed. “You’re the one testing me.”

Azzi took a step back, but she did it slowly. On purpose.

Paige’s eyes tracked her the whole way.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The first hour flew by in a blur of kids, laughter, and occasional tears.

There was one toddler who screamed the moment he saw Santa and refused to calm down until Azzi produced a sticker sheet like she was performing magic. Another kid insisted Santa was not real and tried to interrogate Paige about her beard. Paige played along smoothly, deep voice turning playful.

This was nothing new for them – they’d been working at the mall for three Christmases now. During their first season together, Azzi learned quickly that Paige was both dangerously good at this and dangerously attractive doing it.

Between families, when the chair was empty and the photographer was resetting, Paige let the Santa persona slip just enough.

“You look good today,” Paige murmured as Azzi passed behind her.

Azzi pretended to adjust her hat. “You say that every day.”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “Because you look good every day.”

Azzi paused, hand still on her hat. She glanced back over her shoulder.

Paige’s gaze met hers. Steady. Heat behind it.

Azzi’s stomach flipped.

“Maybe I like the reminder,” Azzi said, voice light but not innocent.

Paige’s smile sharpened behind the beard. “That so?”

Azzi’s bell jingled when she turned away. “Don’t get cocky, Santa.”

Paige’s laugh rumbled. “I’m Santa. I’m always cocky.”

Azzi nearly tripped over the edge of the rug.

She recovered quickly, but she heard the photographer snort like he had caught the vibe.

Great.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

They got a short break around noon.

Azzi led Paige behind the curtain, away from the set, into the tiny staff area where they kept water bottles, props, and emergency tissues. The “Santa’s Workshop” sign on the wall looked smug.

Azzi pulled the curtain shut, then leaned back against the table like she was exhausted.

Paige tugged the beard down just enough to breathe. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were bright.

“You’re a natural,” Azzi said.

Paige lifted a brow. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not surprised,” Azzi corrected quickly. “I know you’re good at this kind of stuff.”

Paige’s mouth quirked. “I’m good at a lot of things.”

Azzi’s breath caught, because she knew exactly what Paige meant, and Paige knew she knew.

Azzi grabbed a water bottle and tossed it to Paige. Paige caught it easily, then took her glove off to twist the cap.

Azzi watched her hands and immediately regretted it.

Paige noticed.

“You’re staring,” Paige said.

Azzi lifted her chin. “Am I?”

Paige took a slow drink, eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “Yeah.”

Azzi stepped closer, close enough that if Paige reached out, she would touch her. “That a problem?”

Paige’s gaze dropped to Azzi’s mouth again. “It’s a distraction.”

Azzi smiled, sweet and dangerous. “Good.”

Paige’s jaw flexed.

The curtain rustled behind them, and both of them froze as a coworker’s voice called out, “You two ready? We’ve got a line.”

Azzi stepped back immediately, like she had not been on the verge of making a bad decision in a supply closet.

Paige’s eyes were still dark when she pulled the beard back into place.

“Yeah,” Azzi called, cheerful again. “Coming!”

Paige leaned in as they walked back out. “You’re trying to get me fired.”

Azzi’s grin was bright enough to be believable. “No. I’m trying to get you to stop acting like you don’t want me.”

Paige’s voice dropped. “I’m not acting.”

Azzi’s heart kicked hard.

They stepped back onto the set like nothing happened.

They were professionals. Always.

Mostly.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The afternoon was busier.

There were more families, more toddlers on the verge of melting down, more parents trying to hurry the process along because they still had shopping to do.

Azzi became a machine. Number tickets, name questions, quick reassurance, gentle laughter.

Paige stayed steady through it all, warmth never slipping, Santa voice never cracking.

But the teasing threaded through everything.

A touch of Paige’s boot against Azzi’s ankle when she stood too close. Azzi “accidentally” adjusting Santa’s hat and letting her fingers brush Paige’s hairline. Paige murmuring “Good girl” under her breath when Azzi managed to calm a screaming toddler in under thirty seconds.

Azzi almost dropped her clipboard and the child.

She recovered, face smooth, smile still bright.

Paige’s eyes crinkled like she was pleased with herself.

At one point, a little girl with braided hair and sparkly shoes sat on Santa’s lap and stared at Azzi with solemn intensity.

“Is Santa your boyfriend?” she asked.

Azzi’s brain shorted out.

Paige, who should have stayed quiet, leaned forward and stage-whispered in her Santa voice, “She’s on the naughty list, and I only date nice girls.”

Azzi’s jaw dropped.

The photographer laughed. The girl giggled. The parents smiled like it was adorable.

Azzi stared at Paige like she was going to strangle her with tinsel.

Paige’s eyes gleamed, smug.

Azzi leaned in close to Paige’s beard and murmured, “You are going to pay for that.”

Paige’s voice stayed loud, Santa-friendly. “Ho ho ho!”

But her gloved hand squeezed Azzi’s wrist just once, quick and secret.

Azzi’s skin felt like it sparked.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

By the time the last family finally left, Azzi’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Her feet ached. Her elf shoes were cute in theory and evil in practice.

Paige stood slowly from the Santa chair and stretched her back, then tugged the beard down again.

“You okay?” Azzi asked, dropping her professional voice.

Paige’s eyes met hers. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Azzi nodded. “You were really good.”

Paige’s expression softened, real now. “So were you.”

Azzi swallowed. Compliments from Paige always landed deeper than she expected, like Paige could see straight through her.

They cleaned up in companionable silence. The photographer packed up equipment. The holiday music finally stopped, leaving the air strangely quiet.

Azzi stacked the brochures. Paige carried the velvet ropes and leaned them against the wall. They worked together to move Santa’s throne back into the storage closet.

When the last light flicked off, the space felt smaller. More intimate. Like the mall had finally exhaled.

Paige glanced toward the exit. “You good to head out?”

Azzi hesitated. Her heart was thudding too loud, and it had nothing to do with the long shift.

“Actually,” Azzi said, voice soft, “I’m not done.”

Paige’s brows lifted. “Not done with what?”

Azzi crossed the space between them before she could second-guess herself. She reached out, grabbed Paige’s wrist, and tugged her toward the Santa chair like she owned her.

Paige followed without resistance.

Azzi climbed back into Paige’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Paige startled, hands coming up automatically to steady her. “Azzi.”

“We’re closed,” Azzi murmured, settling in. “No kids. No cameras.”

Paige’s breath came out slow. “You’re trouble.”

Azzi looked up at her, eyes wide, innocent. “You didn’t stop me.”

Paige’s hands rested at Azzi’s waist, firm and sure. “You know I won’t.”

Azzi’s throat tightened at that. It was too honest. Too easy.

For a moment, they just sat there, the quiet of the empty mall wrapping around them. The decorations twinkled faintly, leftover glow from the tree lights. It made everything feel unreal, like a scene that was not supposed to exist outside a movie.

Azzi shifted, turning in Paige’s arms until she was facing her fully. Her knees rested on either side of Paige’s thighs. Paige’s hands slid automatically to keep her steady.

Azzi traced the edge of Paige’s Santa jacket with her fingers. “You were really good today.”

Paige’s eyes softened. “You already said that.”

“I’m saying it again,” Azzi replied. “Because you were.”

Paige’s throat bobbed. She swallowed. “You looked good too.”

Azzi’s lips quirked. “I know.”

Paige’s brows lifted. “Oh, you know?”

Azzi leaned in slightly, close enough that Paige’s breath warmed her face. “Yeah.”

Paige’s gaze flicked to Azzi’s mouth. “You’ve been testing me all day.”

Azzi’s smile faded into something more serious. “Maybe I needed to know you could handle it.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Handle what?”

Azzi’s voice turned quiet. “Being close to me and not taking what you want. Because we can’t. Not here.”

Paige’s hands flexed at Azzi’s waist. “And what do you think I want?”

Azzi’s breath caught. She could have joked. Could have teased. Could have kept it light like they always did.

Instead, she said the truth.

“You.”

Paige went still.

Azzi held her gaze. “I wanted you to look at me like you did today, like you weren’t just playing Santa. Like you were–” She swallowed. “Like you were thinking about me even when you were busy.”

Paige’s voice came out rougher. “I was.”

Azzi’s heart kicked. “You were?”

Paige nodded once, like she had made a decision. “Azzi, I was thinking about you all day.”

Azzi’s throat tightened. “Even with all the kids?”

Paige’s mouth quirked. “Especially then, because you were being so good. All smiles, all sweet, acting like you weren’t doing it on purpose.”

Azzi’s cheeks warmed. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

Paige’s eyes darkened. “Liar.”

Azzi laughed softly, but it came out shaky. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

Paige’s hand lifted, slow, and brushed a strand of hair back behind Azzi’s ear. The touch was gentle, reverent, like she was trying not to spook her.

Azzi’s breath trembled.

Paige’s thumb lingered at her jaw. “You’re shaking.”

Azzi swallowed. “I’m not.”

Paige’s gaze stayed on her. “You are.”

Azzi hated that Paige always noticed. Hated that it made her feel safe.

“Maybe I’m just cold,” Azzi whispered.

Paige’s smile was soft, but her voice was firm. “No, you’re not.”

Azzi’s fingers curled into Paige’s jacket. “Paige.”

Paige leaned in, forehead nearly touching Azzi’s. “What?”

Azzi’s voice was barely there. “Kiss me.”

Paige’s breath hitched.

For a heartbeat, Paige did not move, like she was giving Azzi one last chance to change her mind. Like she was giving herself one last second to hold back.

Then Paige’s hand slid to the back of Azzi’s neck, steady and warm, and she kissed her.

It was slow at first, like Paige was tasting the moment. Like she had been holding herself back all day and now she finally did not have to. Azzi melted into it, relief and heat and something sharper rushing through her all at once.

Paige’s mouth moved against hers with patient intensity, deepening just enough to make Azzi’s stomach flip. Azzi’s fingers tightened in Paige’s jacket, pulling her closer, like she needed proof Paige was real.

Paige’s other hand stayed at Azzi’s waist, grounding her, firm enough to make Azzi feel held.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing harder, foreheads resting together.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open.

Paige’s gaze was dark, focused, like she was still trying to memorize her.

Then Azzi's hand shot out, gripping Paige's wrist. "Wait here," she commanded, her voice steady despite the heat coursing through her.

She crossed to the bag Paige had been carrying all day – the one Azzi knew Paige had with her. When Azzi pulled out the harness, black and purposeful, with a dildo attached that made her stomach flip with anticipation, Paige's breath caught audibly.

"You knew?" Paige's voice came out rough.

"You always have it." Azzi walked back slowly, deliberately, the harness dangling from her fingers. "I've been thinking about this all day. About what I was going to do to you. Right here."

She watched Paige swallow hard, watched her pupils dilate further as Azzi approached. The empty mall stretched around them, silent except for their breathing and the distant hum of ventilation. Anyone could walk by. Security could find them. The thought made Azzi's pulse race with exhilaration.

"Stand up," Azzi ordered.

Paige obeyed immediately, rising from the massive Santa chair. The red velvet suit made her look broader, the white trim catching the dim lights. She'd already pulled off the fake beard, and her cheeks were flushed beneath the Santa hat.

Azzi stepped into her space, close enough that the gold bells on her neckline chimed softly. "Take off the belt."

Paige's hands fumbled with the wide black belt, her fingers clumsy in a way that made Azzi smile. When it hit the floor with a soft thud, Azzi reached for the zipper of the red velvet pants, pulling it down slowly.

"Step out," Azzi murmured, and Paige did, kicking the pants aside until she was standing in just her underwear and the Santa jacket, the white fur trim incongruous against her bare legs.

Azzi held up the harness. "Put this on."

Paige took it with shaking hands, securing the straps over her hips. The contrast was absurd and incredibly hot – the red velvet jacket, the Santa hat still perched on her head, and now this. Azzi watched every movement, her gaze predatory.

"Perfect," Azzi said softly, and Paige's breath hitched. "Now sit back down."

Paige settled back into the Santa chair, legs spread, and Azzi could see how affected she already was – the flush spreading down her neck, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the red velvet.

Azzi moved forward, her striped tights brushing against Paige's bare thighs as she climbed into her lap. The bells on her dress hem chimed with each movement. She straddled Paige, her green and red dress riding up, the toy pressing between them.

"You've been so good today," Azzi murmured, cupping Paige's face, her thumb brushing over Paige's bottom lip. "Playing Santa for all those kids. Being patient. But now you're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

"Yes," Paige breathed, her hands hovering uncertainly at Azzi's waist.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll be good for you."

Azzi smiled and kissed her, deep and claiming, grinding down against the toy. She was already so wet, had been since she'd packed the harness that morning, since she'd watched Paige pull on that ridiculous Santa suit.

She reached down between them, pushing her underwear aside, then gripped the base of the toy. "Hands on the armrests," she commanded. "Don't move them unless I tell you to."

Paige's hands immediately went to the red velvet armrests, gripping tight.

"Good," Azzi praised, positioning the toy at her entrance. She sank down slowly, watching Paige's face the entire time. The stretch made her gasp, made the bells on her dress jingle, but she didn't close her eyes. She wanted to see every reaction, every flicker of desire on Paige's face.

"God, Az," Paige whimpered as Azzi took the toy inch by inch.

"Shh," Azzi soothed, pausing halfway. "I'm not done yet."

She lowered herself further, slowly, deliberately, until she was fully seated in Paige's lap, the toy buried deep inside her. She felt impossibly full, stretched around it, and when she rolled her hips experimentally, Paige's knuckles went white on the armrests.

"Fuck," Azzi breathed, then smiled wickedly. "You feel that? Feel how wet I am for you?"

"Yes," Paige gasped.

Azzi started to move, lifting herself up and sinking back down, setting her own rhythm. The Santa chair creaked beneath them with each movement, the sound obscene in the quiet mall. Her hands braced on Paige's shoulders, the red velvet soft under her palms, and she rode Paige with purpose.

"Look at you," Azzi said, her voice breathy but still commanding. "So desperate. The base is rubbing against you, isn't it? Every time I move?"

"Yes," Paige groaned, her hips trying to thrust up involuntarily.

"Stay still," Azzi ordered, and Paige immediately froze, trembling with the effort. "That's it. Just let me use you."

The bells on Azzi's dress chimed with each bounce, a cheerful counterpoint to the obscene sounds of their bodies moving together. She moved faster, chasing the pleasure building inside her, her thighs burning with the effort but she didn't care. She was in control, taking what she wanted, and the look of desperate need on Paige's face only made her hotter.

"Touch me," Azzi commanded breathlessly. "My clit. Now."

Paige's hand flew from the armrest, her thumb finding Azzi's clit immediately, circling it with perfect pressure because she knew exactly what Azzi liked.

"Just like that," Azzi praised, her rhythm faltering as pleasure spiraled through her. "Don't stop. Make me come."

The combination of the toy inside her, Paige's thumb on her clit, and the sheer wrongness of where they were – it all crashed over Azzi at once. Her orgasm hit like a wave, making her cry out, her body clenching rhythmically around the dildo as pleasure rolled through her in pulses. The bells on her dress jingled frantically as she shook through it.

"Beautiful," Paige murmured, and Azzi could hear the awe in her voice. "So fucking beautiful."

When Azzi could breathe again, she lifted herself off slowly, deliberately, watching Paige's face as the toy slid out. Then she sank to her knees on the platform in front of the Santa chair, her striped tights pressing against the carpet.

"Az, you don't have to–"

"I know I don't have to," Azzi interrupted, her hands already working to unbuckle the harness. "I want to. Now lift your hips."

Paige obeyed immediately, and Azzi pulled the harness off, tossing it aside. Then she pushed the Santa jacket up and out of the way, spreading Paige's thighs wider.

"Look how wet you are," Azzi murmured appreciatively. "All from watching me ride you. From doing what I told you."

"Azzi, please–"

"Please what?" Azzi looked up at her, eyes wicked.

"Please touch me," Paige begged.

Azzi smiled. "Since you asked so nicely."

She didn't tease. She dove in, her tongue finding Paige's clit immediately, licking and sucking with purpose. Paige's hand flew to Azzi's hair, tangling in it, and Azzi pulled back immediately.

"Hands on the armrests," she commanded. "I didn't say you could touch me."

Paige whimpered but obeyed, gripping the red velvet again.

"Good girl," Azzi praised, then returned to her task, her tongue working Paige over with skill. She knew exactly what Paige liked, exactly how to make her fall apart, and she used every bit of that knowledge now.

"Fuck, Az," Paige gasped, her hips rolling up into Azzi's mouth. "Your tongue – oh God–"

Azzi hummed against her, the vibration making Paige jerk. She slid two fingers inside, curling them to find that spot that made Paige's thighs tremble. Her tongue never stopped its assault on Paige's clit, circling and flicking until Paige was panting above her.

"Close," Paige warned, her voice breaking. "I'm so close–"

"Then come," Azzi commanded against her, then sealed her lips around Paige's clit and sucked hard.

Paige came with a strangled moan, her whole body going taut, the Santa hat falling off her head as she threw it back. But Azzi didn't pull away. She gentled her touch for just a moment, letting Paige catch her breath, before building her back up again.

"Az, I can't–" Paige tried to protest, but it came out weak, unconvincing.

"Yes, you can," Azzi said firmly, her fingers still moving inside Paige. "You're going to do what I say. Aren't you?"

"Yes," Paige whimpered. "Yes, anything–"

Azzi returned to her work with renewed intensity, her tongue and fingers working in perfect rhythm. Paige's second orgasm came faster, harder, her thighs clamping around Azzi's head as she shook through it, a broken cry escaping her lips.

This time Azzi did pull back, pressing soft kisses to Paige's inner thighs as she trembled, aftershocks still rolling through her.

“You’re going to kill me,” Paige panted.

Azzi laughed softly, shaky. “Not tonight.”

Paige’s thumb brushed along Azzi’s jaw again, tender. “You sure?”

Azzi swallowed, the heat pooling low in her stomach, the temptation screaming at her to say yes. To say more. To push.

But she had promised herself they would keep it safe. Keep it simple. Keep it just enough.

So she smiled, slow and bright, the same smile she had used all day, except this time it was only for Paige.

“I’m sure,” Azzi whispered. “But I’m not leaving yet.”

Paige’s eyes softened. “Okay.”

Azzi rested her forehead against Paige’s again, staying in her lap like she belonged there. Paige’s arms tightened around her slightly, and Azzi let herself breathe.

Outside, the mall stayed quiet. The Christmas lights kept twinkling. The night stretched out ahead of them, private and full of possibilities they did not have to name right now.

Azzi’s bell chimed softly when she shifted.

Paige’s mouth brushed her temple, a near-kiss, a promise.

Azzi stayed in her lap a little longer, just because she could.

And when they finally stood, hands still lingering, eyes still locked, it felt like the start of something they had been pretending not to want.

But for tonight, it was enough.

The steamy kiss had already said everything.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The bar glowed like it had been dipped in amber and set gently back into place.

Warm string lights looped along the shelves behind the counter, woven between bottles dressed with sprigs of pine and dried orange slices. A garland lined the bar itself, subtle and understated, the kind of decor that suggested intention rather than thoughtless excess. Near the far wall stood a small artificial tree, champagne and burgundy ornaments catching the low light whenever someone brushed past. Cinnamon and citrus clung faintly to the air, layered beneath the familiar scent of liquor, polished wood, and melting ice.

Paige liked it this way.

She stood behind the bar with the quiet confidence of someone who knew exactly how the room worked. Not just where people sat or what they drank, but how long it took them to soften, when they leaned in, when they started watching her hands instead of their glass. She wiped down the counter in slow, deliberate strokes, attention split between the low jazz drifting from the speakers and the patrons scattered across stools and booths.

She didn’t need to look up to know who was waiting for a refill.

And she didn’t need to check the clock to know when Azzi would arrive.

The door opened with a soft rush of cold air, and Paige felt it more than she heard it. She glanced up just in time to see Azzi pause inside the doorway, shoulders still tense from the outside world. Tonight, she wore a long coat and a red scarf looped loosely around her neck, cheeks flushed from the cold, hair slightly wind-tossed in a way that looked unintentional but flattering.

Azzi scanned the room out of habit – then her eyes landed on Paige, and something in her posture eased immediately. Like she’d been holding herself together all day and could finally let it go.

Third stool from the left. Always.

Azzi shrugged out of her coat before sitting, folding it neatly over the back of the stool. She didn’t rush. She never did. Paige noticed how she took a breath before settling, how she rolled her shoulders once like she was physically setting the day down.

“Usual?” Paige asked, already reaching for the bottle.

Azzi smiled, soft and genuine, like being remembered mattered more than the drink itself. “Please.”

Paige poured with practiced precision, the sound of liquor against ice clean and controlled. She slid the glass across the bar, fingers lingering on the counter just long enough to feel deliberate. Not touching, never touching, but close enough that Azzi’s gaze flicked down before snapping back up.

Azzi took a sip and sighed without meaning to. When she realized she’d done it out loud, she laughed, a little embarrassed.

Paige leaned her hip against the counter, posture relaxed but attentive. “Long day?”

“Long week,” Azzi corrected. “I think this place is the only thing holding me together.”

Paige hummed thoughtfully, filing that away. She watched the way Azzi’s fingers curled around the glass, how she tucked one foot under the rung of the stool, grounding herself. She watched how Azzi’s attention followed her movements even when she pretended to be focused on her drink.

Most people didn’t notice compliments when they were meant kindly.

Azzi did.

“You look nice tonight,” Paige said casually, like she was commenting on the weather.

Azzi froze – just for a fraction of a second. Her lips parted, eyes widening slightly before she caught herself. “Oh, thanks,” she said, laughing it off, but her fingers tightened on the glass.

Paige didn’t smile. She watched.

Azzi drank faster after that.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Paige waited until Azzi was halfway through her second drink before speaking again.

“Feel like something different?” she asked. “I’ve been workshopping a holiday cocktail – I call it jingle bells nog.”

Azzi’s eyes lit up immediately. “You’re experimenting on me now?”

“On the house,” Paige added smoothly.

That sealed it. Azzi grinned, nodding. “Okay. I trust you.”

Paige turned away deliberately slowly, offering Azzi nothing to look at but her back and the shelves beyond. She chose the glass carefully, chilled it just long enough. Eggnog for comfort, nutmeg for warmth, vanilla for depth, a measured pour of something stronger than Azzi usually ordered – but not enough to make it good.

Azzi took one sip and blinked. “Oh. That’s – wow.”

“Good wow or dangerous wow?” Paige asked.

Azzi laughed. “Both.”

She drank it faster than the first. Paige noticed the flush creeping higher on her cheeks, the way her posture softened, shoulders easing as the alcohol settled. When Azzi glanced up again, her gaze lingered longer this time, openly curious now.

“You’re very good at this,” Azzi said, warmth curling into her voice.

Paige tilted her head. “At bartending?”

Azzi hesitated, then shrugged. “At making people feel taken care of.”

Paige didn’t respond right away. Instead, she refilled Azzi’s water, setting it closer than the cocktail. The drink itself stayed exactly where it was.

“You’re doing great,” Paige said lightly, like reassurance rather than praise.

Azzi’s breath caught. She tried to hide it by taking another sip, but afterward she looked flustered, cheeks warming further.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “This is stronger than I thought.”

“No need to apologize,” Paige replied.

Later, while she polished glasses, Paige slipped another compliment into the space between them.

“You carry yourself well.”

Azzi laughed, breathless. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

Paige met her gaze, unblinking. “Am I?”

Azzi shook her head, smiling, but her knee bounced beneath the bar.

Paige didn’t miss it.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The bar thinned out as the night wore on.

Azzi usually didn’t stay this late.

Music dipped lower, lights dimmed just enough to feel intimate rather than sleepy. Paige stayed where she was, moving with quiet efficiency, her attention anchored to Azzi even as she spoke to other patrons.

Azzi leaned forward now, elbows on the bar. Closer.

“I think you like watching people,” Azzi said suddenly.

Paige arched a brow. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Azzi said too quickly. Then she paused. “I mean, sometimes I like being looked at.”

Paige let the silence stretch, long enough for the words to settle between them.

“Like this?” she asked gently.

Azzi nodded, barely perceptible. “It makes me feel noticed.”

“Good,” Paige said, voice warm but steady. “You deserve that.”

Azzi exhaled shakily. “You’re really good with words.”

Paige repeated it back to her. “You like that.”

It wasn’t a question.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut for a second. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I do.”

Paige adjusted her stance, grounding herself behind the bar. She never crossed it.

“Tell me what part,” she said softly.

Azzi laughed nervously. “The being told I’m doing well. That I look good. That I’m enough.”

Paige nodded slowly, carefully. “You are enough.”

Azzi pressed her lips together, overwhelmed. “You can’t say things like that.”

Paige tilted her head. “Why?”

“Because I’ll–” Azzi stopped herself, shaking her head. “Because it gets to me.”

Paige smiled, not triumphant, but thoughtful. “Thank you for telling me.”

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

When Azzi reached for her empty glass, Paige didn’t move.

“I think I’ll have another,” Azzi said hopefully.

Paige slid the glass back just out of reach. “No.”

The word landed solidly.

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“You’re done for tonight,” Paige said calmly.

“I’m fine,” Azzi protested, softly now.

“I know,” Paige replied. “That’s why I’m stopping.”

The protest faded when Azzi saw Paige’s expression – protective, certain, unyielding.

“I don’t want you leaving here dizzy,” Paige continued. “Or regretting anything tomorrow.”

Azzi studied her, then nodded. “Okay.”

Paige offered her coat. “I can walk you home.”

Azzi accepted without hesitation.

The shift was unmistakable.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Outside, the cold air sobered Azzi instantly. She hugged her coat tighter, breath puffing white as they walked side by side.

“You still okay?” Paige asked.

“Yes,” Azzi said. “Better, actually.”

Paige smiled softly. “Good girl.”

Azzi froze, cheeks heating, then relaxed, leaning into Paige’s side.

When they reached Azzi’s building, Paige stopped.

“This is where I leave you,” she said.

Azzi hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

Paige held her gaze. “Text me when you’re inside.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Azzi said quietly.

Paige laughed under her breath.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Later, Paige locked up alone, the bar quiet again. She wiped down the counter one last time, fingers lingering where Azzi had sat.

Her phone pinged, much later than she was expecting.

Azzi: I’m inside, but I want you to be too

Paige: Omw

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Paige arrived at Azzi's building fifteen minutes later, heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the cold or the walk. She texted when she was outside, and Azzi buzzed her up immediately.

The apartment door was already cracked open when Paige reached the third floor. She pushed it open slowly, stepping inside.

Azzi stood in the middle of her living room, still in her work clothes but barefoot now, hair down around her shoulders. She looked nervous and certain all at once.

"Hi," Azzi said softly.

"Hi," Paige replied, closing the door behind her and locking it deliberately. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home made Azzi's breath catch.

Paige crossed the space between them slowly, giving Azzi time to change her mind, to step back, to say something. But Azzi didn't move. She just watched Paige approach with wide, dark eyes.

When Paige was close enough to touch, she reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Azzi's ear. "You sure about this?"

"Yes," Azzi whispered. "I've been sure since the second drink."

Paige smiled, thumb brushing along Azzi's jaw. "That's my girl."

Azzi's eyes fluttered closed at the praise, and Paige felt something hot and possessive curl in her chest. She leaned in slowly, giving Azzi one more chance to pull away, and then their lips met.

The kiss started soft, exploratory, but it didn't stay that way. Azzi made a small sound in the back of her throat and pressed closer, hands coming up to grip Paige's jacket. Paige deepened the kiss, one hand sliding into Azzi's hair while the other settled on her hip.

"Bedroom?" Paige murmured against Azzi's lips.

"Down the hall," Azzi breathed. "First door."

Paige pulled back just enough to look at her. "Show me."

Azzi took her hand and led her through the apartment. Her bedroom was neat, warm, the bed already made with soft-looking sheets. Paige noticed the lamp was on, casting everything in golden light.

"You planned this," Paige said, not quite a question.

Azzi blushed. "I hoped."

"Good," Paige said, pulling her close again. "I like that you know what you want."

She kissed Azzi again, slower this time, walking her backward until her legs hit the bed. Azzi sat down automatically, looking up at Paige with something like reverence.

Paige shrugged off her jacket, then knelt between Azzi's legs, hands sliding up her thighs. "Can I undress you?"

"Please," Azzi said, voice already breathy.

Paige took her time, unbuttoning Azzi's blouse with steady fingers, revealing smooth brown skin and a sensible white bra underneath. She pushed the fabric off Azzi's shoulders and leaned in to press kisses along her collarbone.

"You're so beautiful," Paige murmured against her skin. "Been thinking about this all night."

Azzi's breath hitched. "Really?"

"Really." Paige's hands found the clasp of Azzi's bra, unhooking it smoothly. "Been thinking about it longer than that, if I'm honest."

The bra fell away, and Paige pulled back to look at her. Azzi's chest rose and fell rapidly, nipples already hard in the cool air. Paige cupped her breasts gently, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks.

"So perfect," Paige said, and Azzi whimpered.

Paige leaned in and took one nipple into her mouth, sucking gently while her hand worked the other. Azzi's fingers tangled in her hair, holding her close.

"Paige," Azzi gasped. "Please."

"Please what, baby?" Paige asked, switching to the other breast.

"More. I need more."

Paige smiled against her skin. "Lie back for me."

Azzi obeyed immediately, scooting back on the bed until she was lying against the pillows. Paige climbed up after her, settling between her legs. She unbuttoned Azzi's slacks and pulled them down slowly, along with her underwear, until Azzi was completely bare beneath her.

"Fuck," Paige breathed, taking in the sight. "Look at you."

Azzi squirmed under the attention, thighs pressing together.

"Uh-uh," Paige said, hands on Azzi's knees. "Let me see you. Don't hide from me."

Azzi let her legs fall open, and Paige could see how wet she already was, glistening in the lamplight.

"That's it," Paige praised. "Such a good girl for me."

Azzi moaned softly at the words, hips lifting slightly.

Paige kissed her way down Azzi's body, taking her time, leaving marks on her hips and inner thighs. By the time she settled between Azzi's legs, Azzi was trembling.

"You okay?" Paige asked, breath ghosting over Azzi's center.

"Yes," Azzi gasped. "Please, Paige."

"I've got you," Paige promised, and then she leaned in and licked a slow stripe up Azzi's slit.

Azzi cried out, back arching off the bed. Paige gripped her hips, holding her steady as she worked her with her tongue. She explored slowly at first, learning what made Azzi gasp, what made her moan, what made her fingers tighten in the sheets.

"Oh god," Azzi whimpered. "That's so good. You're so good."

Paige hummed against her, the vibration making Azzi's thighs shake. She focused on Azzi's clit now, circling it with her tongue before sucking gently.

"Fuck, Paige, I–" Azzi's words dissolved into incoherent sounds.

Paige slid two fingers inside her easily, curling them to find that spot that made Azzi see stars. She worked her steadily, tongue and fingers moving in rhythm, building Azzi higher and higher.

"You taste so good," Paige murmured between strokes. "So wet for me. Doing so well, baby."

Azzi was panting now, hips rocking against Paige's face. "I'm close," she gasped. "Paige, I'm so close."

Paige could feel it, the way Azzi's walls were fluttering around her fingers, the way her whole body was tensing. She kept her pace steady, relentless.

"Please," Azzi begged, voice breaking. "Please can I come? I need to come."

Paige pulled back just slightly, fingers still moving. "Not yet."

Azzi whined, a desperate sound. "Please. Please, I need it."

"I know you do," Paige said, voice firm but gentle. "But you're going to wait for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Azzi sobbed. "Yes, I can wait. I'll be good."

"That's my girl," Paige praised, and went back to work with renewed intensity.

She pushed Azzi right to the edge and held her there, backing off whenever she got too close, then building her back up again. Azzi was a mess beneath her, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, hands fisted in the sheets.

"Please," Azzi begged again. "Please, Paige, I can't – I need–"

"Look at me," Paige commanded.

Azzi's eyes snapped open, glazed and desperate.

"You're doing so well," Paige said. "Being so good for me. You can come now, baby. Come for me."

The permission was all Azzi needed. Her orgasm hit her like a wave, back arching completely off the bed as she cried out Paige's name. Paige worked her through it, fingers and tongue gentling as Azzi shook and trembled, drawing out every last aftershock until Azzi was pushing weakly at her head.

Paige pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and crawled up to gather Azzi in her arms. Azzi was still shaking, face buried in Paige's neck.

"You did so good," Paige murmured, stroking her hair. "So perfect for me."

Azzi made a small, satisfied sound, pressing closer.

They lay like that for several minutes, Azzi catching her breath while Paige held her. Eventually, Azzi pulled back enough to look at her.

"You're still dressed," she said, voice rough.

"I am," Paige agreed.

"That's not fair." Azzi's hands went to the hem of Paige's shirt, tugging it up. "Off."

Paige smiled and helped her, stripping off her clothes until she was as bare as Azzi. Azzi's eyes roamed over her appreciatively.

"Come here," Azzi said, pulling Paige down for a kiss. She could taste herself on Paige's lips and it made her moan.

The kiss grew heated again quickly, hands roaming, bodies pressing together. Azzi rolled them over so she was on top, straddling Paige's hips.

"I want to feel you," Azzi said, grinding down experimentally.

Paige groaned, hands gripping Azzi's hips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Azzi shifted, adjusting the angle until they were pressed together perfectly, wet heat against wet heat.

They both gasped at the contact. Azzi started to move, rolling her hips in slow circles, and Paige met her rhythm.

"Fuck," Paige breathed. "That's good. You feel so good."

Azzi picked up the pace, chasing the friction, and Paige helped guide her movements. The room filled with the sounds of their breathing, soft moans, skin against skin.

"Touch yourself," Paige said. "I want to watch you."

Azzi obeyed, one hand coming up to play with her breast while the other braced on Paige's shoulder. The added stimulation made her movements more erratic.

"That's it," Paige encouraged. "You look so beautiful like this. Taking what you need."

"I'm close again," Azzi gasped. "Are you close?"

"Yeah, baby. I'm close." Paige's grip on Azzi's hips tightened, helping her grind down harder. "Come with me. Want to feel you come with me."

Azzi's movements became desperate, chasing her release. Paige could feel her own orgasm building, heat coiling tight in her belly.

"Paige," Azzi whimpered. "I'm–"

"I know. Me too. Come for me, Azzi. Right now."

They came together, crying out in unison, bodies shaking as pleasure crashed over them. Azzi collapsed forward onto Paige's chest, both of them trembling and gasping for breath.

Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi, holding her close as they came down together. She pressed kisses to Azzi's temple, her cheek, anywhere she could reach.

"You're amazing," Paige murmured. "So fucking amazing."

Azzi made a contented sound, nuzzling into Paige's neck. "Stay," she whispered. "Please stay."

"I'm not going anywhere," Paige promised, pulling the blankets up over them both. "I'm right here."

Azzi sighed, body finally relaxing completely.

Paige smiled, pressing one more kiss to Azzi's hair. Outside, snow had started to fall again, but inside they were warm, tangled together, exactly where they were meant to be.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Paige learned early how to disappear.

Not literally, no one ever forgot she was there, but in the quieter way, the way that mattered. She learned how to make herself small when things were fragile, how to be useful when love felt conditional, how to anticipate what people needed before they asked so they wouldn’t leave.

By the time she was eighteen, she was very good at it.

She left home with a backpack, three outfits, and no intention of being missed. She didn’t even know if her mom and stepdad would leave the letter she left on the kitchen counter.

She didn’t cry until she was blocks away, and even then, she wiped her face and kept walking. Paige learned a truth that her mom had quietly affirmed since she was a little girl –if you want someone to stay, you have to earn it.

Years later, sitting in a senior seminar for business majors, she thought she had that rule mastered.

She was wrong.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Dr. Azzi Fudd didn’t teach like anyone Paige had known before.

She didn’t hide behind a podium or drown the room in slides. She moved through the classroom like she belonged there, not demanding attention, simply assuming it. And somehow, everyone gave it to her.

“All right,” Dr. Fudd said one afternoon, leaning casually against the desk. “Let’s talk about the thing no one teaches you before you graduate.”

Paige straightened unconsciously, pen already poised.

“How to survive people,” Dr. Fudd continued. “Because your degree won’t save you from bad managers, unclear expectations, or power dynamics you didn’t agree to.”

The room stirred. Paige leaned forward.

Dr. Fudd asked questions instead of lecturing. She made them stand, debate, role-play awkward emails and office politics. She laughed easily, redirected gently, praised specifically.

When she called on Paige, it was unhurried.

“Paige,” she said. “What do you think?”

Paige answered carefully, thoughtfully. “Reading the room is the most important when you’re somewhere new. It doesn’t matter what you say if you say it at the wrong time.”

When she nodded and said, “That’s a sharp insight,” something dropped low and warm in Paige’s chest.

It wasn’t desire. Not yet.

It was relief.

Dr. Fudd seemed to be so proud of her.

That night, alone in her dorm room, Paige stared at the ceiling and replayed the moment until it made her uncomfortable. She recognized the feeling with a sinking certainty she didn’t want to name.

She didn’t want Dr. Fudd to like her.

She wanted her to be proud of her.

That realization terrified her.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The crush didn’t announce itself loudly. It grew quietly, insidiously, in the margins, in lecture halls, in quiet praise.

Paige sat straighter in seminar. Prepared more thoroughly. Paid attention not just to what Dr. Fudd said, but how she said it. The pauses. The tone. The way praise wasn’t thrown around casually.

When Dr. Fudd smiled and said, “You always come prepared,” Paige felt it in her bones.

She told herself it was admiration. Academic respect.

But late one night, journal open, she wrote something she didn’t mean to:

I want her to see me.

She stared at the words for a long time.

Then she closed the notebook and didn’t think about her professor or write anything for a week.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The email announcing a TA position arrived halfway through Paige’s final semester.

She stared at it far longer than necessary.

She told herself it was logical. Good for grad school. Aligned with her skills. A strong professional move.

She didn’t tell herself the truth until she was pacing her apartment, heart pounding.

She wanted to stay near Dr. Fudd. She wanted to try to impress her – try to make her proud.

She hated herself for how badly she wanted it.

Applying felt like crossing a line she couldn’t uncross. But not applying felt like letting go of something she already couldn’t imagine losing.

She would be professional though. She would be the best assistant that she would ever have.

In the end, Paige was going to do what she always did.

She was going to earn it.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Azzi read Paige’s application twice.

Not because she needed to – it was perfect. It was careful. Thoughtful. Grounded. Paige didn’t oversell herself or shrink back.

The recommendation letters were glowing. Reliable. Attentive. Anticipates needs.

Azzi paused at that phrasing.

That wasn’t just competence. That was conditioning.

Still, Paige was the strongest candidate. Azzi chose her deliberately, ethically, and with clear boundaries in mind.

She sent the acceptance email and didn’t think about it again.

At least, she thought she didn’t.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Their first after-hours grading session was quiet, efficient, unremarkable on paper.

In reality, it changed everything.

Paige worked like she always did – focused, precise, helpful without being asked. Her work was perfect.

Normally, Azzi had to go back and add proper commentary after her TA’s graded, but not with Paige.

Dr. Fudd praised her work specifically, carefully. “You explain the why,” she said. “That matters.”

Paige felt it like oxygen.

They fell into a rhythm that became routine over two semesters: late nights, quiet rooms, work punctuated by brief, grounding exchanges.

“You’re very good at this.”

“I trust your judgment.”

“Good catch.”

Paige never asked for praise.

Dr. Fudd just knew she needed it.

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Azzi thought Paige was confident.

Self-possessed. Independent. Capable.

She missed the tight shoulders, the way praise landed like relief instead of pride. She missed how Paige never said no, never rested unless told to.

Azzi offered breaks. Paige declined.

“I’m used to it,” Paige said once.

Azzi nodded, accepting that at face value.

She didn’t realize that Paige didn’t expect care, only responsibility.

The day Azzi gave Paige neutral feedback, something shifted.

The comment was fair. Reasonable.

“Add a little more here.”

No praise. No reassurance.

Paige unraveled quietly.

She replayed the comment until her chest hurt. Asked for clarification too quickly. Worked harder than necessary afterward, desperate to correct something that hadn’t been wrong.

Azzi noticed, but not fully.

Not yet.

It took time. Subtle changes. Paige growing quieter, more careful. Apologizing for mistakes that weren’t mistakes.

One night, after a long grading session, Azzi told her, “You don’t have to push yourself like this. You’re doing more than enough.”

Paige smiled automatically. “I know.”

She didn’t.

That night, alone in her apartment, Paige curled into herself and wrote the truth into her worn notebook:

I don’t want to be special anymore.

She just wanted someone to stay.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Azzi finally noticed when Paige flinched at a minor correction.

Not defensiveness, fear.

Azzi sat alone afterward, unsettled.

How long had Paige been taking her critiques to heart?

She replayed months of interactions and saw them differently now. The endurance. The way Paige stayed late without being asked. The way praise steadied her more than it should have.

Azzi felt a sharp pang of guilt.

She resolved to be more explicit. More affirming. Still professional. Still appropriate.

But intentional.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The rest of the semester passed without incident.

Paige was practically perfect.

And she bloomed under Dr. Fudd’s praise.

So, when she finished the semester with perfect grades, and she was approved for graduation, it was a no brainer.

Her hand shook as she handed Dr. Fudd the invitation to her party.

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

Azzi almost didn’t go to the party.

She understood the weight of her presence.

In the end, she went anyway.

Paige’s face lit up when she saw her, unguarded and radiant. Azzi gave her a small, wrapped gift and told her to open it somewhere quiet.

In the front cover, in familiar script:

You were never just capable. You were thoughtful, steady, and deeply human. I was proud of you long before you ever proved anything. You are going to do amazing things in this world, Paige Bueckers.

- Azzi Fudd

Paige broke.

Quietly. Completely.

She confessed everything in a rush she couldn’t stop – how long she’d wanted her, how hard she’d tried, how tired she was of being good.

Azzi listened.

“You’re not my student anymore,” Azzi said gently. “And I care about you.”

Paige blushed deeply, “I’ve never wanted to make anyone as proud as I’ve wanted to make you, Dr. Fudd.”

“Azzi,” she corrected gently. “I’ll wait for you to be done with this – all the mingling – and we can go to mine and talk.”

🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️🎄♥️

The drive to Azzi's apartment was quiet, charged with something Paige couldn't name. Her hands trembled in her lap. Azzi's hand found hers at a stoplight, squeezed once, and didn't let go.

Inside, Azzi's apartment was warm, lived-in. Books everywhere. Soft lighting. A space that felt like home.

"Do you want something to drink?" Azzi asked, setting her keys down.

Paige shook her head. "I just want–" She stopped, unsure how to finish.

Azzi turned to face her fully. "What do you want, Paige?"

The question hung between them, gentle but direct.

"You," Paige whispered, voice shaking. "I want you. I've wanted you for so long."

Azzi stepped closer, close enough that Paige could smell her perfume, something subtle and expensive. "I need you to understand something first."

Paige nodded, breathless.

"This isn't about what you can do for me. It's not about being perfect or useful or earning anything." Azzi's hand came up to cup Paige's face. "I want you because you're you. Not because you've proven yourself."

Paige's eyes burned. "I don't know how to do that."

"Then let me show you." Azzi leaned in slowly, giving Paige every chance to pull away. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Paige breathed. "Please."

The kiss was soft at first, tentative. Then Paige made a small sound in the back of her throat and pressed closer, and everything shifted. Azzi's hands slid into her hair, and Paige melted into her, years of want finally finding release.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Azzi asked, "Bedroom?"

Paige nodded, unable to form words.

Azzi's bedroom was as warm as the rest of her apartment. Soft sheets, dim lighting. She turned to Paige, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "We can stop anytime. You know that, right?"

"I don't want to stop," Paige said, and she meant it with every fiber of her being.

They kissed again, deeper this time. Paige's hands found the hem of Azzi's shirt, hesitant. Azzi pulled back just enough to pull it over her head, then reached for Paige's. Soon they were down to underwear, and Paige couldn't stop staring.

"You're beautiful," she whispered.

Azzi smiled, guiding them to the bed. "So are you."

They lay down together, and Paige kissed her way down Azzi's neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. She wanted to memorize every inch, wanted to make Azzi feel as good as she'd made Paige feel all these months.

"Can I?" Paige asked, fingers at the waistband of Azzi's underwear.

"Yes," Azzi breathed.

Paige slid them down slowly, reverently. She settled between Azzi's thighs, looking up at her. "Tell me if I'm doing it right?"

"You will," Azzi assured her, threading her fingers through Paige's hair. "Just listen to me."

Paige lowered her mouth to Azzi's center, tentative at first, then more confident as Azzi's breath hitched. She explored with her tongue, learning what made Azzi gasp, what made her hips roll forward.

"That's it," Azzi murmured. "Just like that, baby. You're doing so well."

The praise sent heat flooding through Paige's body. She doubled her efforts, adding her fingers, sliding one inside carefully.

"Oh, fuck," Azzi gasped. "Yes. Good girl."

Paige moaned against her, the words making her dizzy. She added a second finger, curling them the way she hoped would feel good, and Azzi's hand tightened in her hair.

"Perfect," Azzi breathed. "You're perfect. Don't stop."

Paige worked her fingers and tongue in tandem, desperate to please, to be good, to make Azzi feel everything she'd ever wanted to give her. When Azzi's thighs started to tremble, Paige looked up, meeting her eyes.

"Please," Paige whispered against her. "Please come for me. I want to make you feel good."

"You are," Azzi moaned. "You're making me feel so good, baby. Keep going. Just like that."

Paige sealed her lips around Azzi's clit and sucked gently while her fingers pressed deeper, and Azzi came with a cry that made Paige's face flush with pride and arousal.

She worked Azzi through it, gentling her touches as the aftershocks faded. When Azzi tugged her up, Paige went willingly, and Azzi kissed her deeply, tasting herself on Paige's lips.

"You're incredible," Azzi murmured against her mouth.

Paige felt tears prick her eyes. "Really?"

"Really." Azzi rolled them over, settling on top of Paige. "Now let me take care of you."

"You don't have to–"

"I want to." Azzi kissed down her neck. "I want to make you feel good. Will you be a good girl and let me?"

Paige nodded, already trembling.

Azzi took her time, kissing every inch of skin she could reach, murmuring praise against Paige's body. "So beautiful. So good for me."

By the time Azzi's mouth reached between Paige's thighs, Paige was already shaking. The first touch of Azzi's tongue made her cry out.

"That's it," Azzi murmured. "Let me hear you."

Paige couldn't have stayed quiet if she tried. Every stroke of Azzi's tongue sent pleasure spiraling through her. When Azzi slid two fingers inside her, Paige's back arched off the bed.

"Oh god," she gasped. "Oh god, Azzi–"

"I've got you," Azzi said, her voice low and soothing. "You're doing so well, baby. So good for me."

The praise undid something in Paige. She felt herself climbing higher, faster than she ever had before. "I'm – fuck mommy – I'm gonna–"

"Come for me," Azzi said, curling her fingers just right. "Let go, for mommy, sweetheart."

Paige came with a broken cry, pleasure crashing over her in waves. But Azzi didn't stop. She kept her fingers moving, her tongue working, and before Paige could catch her breath, she was climbing again.

"Wait," Paige gasped. "I can't–"

"You can," Azzi said firmly. "One more, baby. Give me one more."

"Azzi–" It came out as a whimper.

"That's it. You're being so good for me. So perfect."

The second orgasm hit harder than the first, and Paige sobbed with the intensity of it. Azzi gentled her touches but didn't stop, and Paige realized with a mix of panic and arousal that she was going to come again.

"Please," she gasped, not sure what she was asking for.

"I know," Azzi soothed. "I know, baby. Just one more. You can do it."

"I can’t – it's too much–"

"You can." Azzi's voice was firm but loving. "Be a good girl for me."

The words sent Paige over the edge again, and this time she did cry, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion. Azzi finally pulled back, crawling up to gather Paige in her arms.

"Shh," she murmured, pressing kisses to Paige's temple. "I've got you. You did so well. So perfect."

Paige buried her face in Azzi's neck, still trembling. "That was – I've never–"

"I know." Azzi held her tighter. "You're okay. I've got you."

They lay like that for a long time, Azzi stroking Paige's hair, murmuring soft reassurances. Eventually, Paige's breathing evened out, and she pulled back just enough to look at Azzi.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Azzi smiled, brushing away the tears on Paige's cheeks. "For what?"

"For choosing me."

Azzi's expression softened. "Always, Paige. You don't have to earn this. You never did."

Paige felt something in her chest crack open, something that had been locked tight for years. She kissed Azzi softly, then settled back into her arms, pulling the sheets around them both.

For the first time in her life, Paige felt safe. Held. Chosen.

Not earned. Not conditional.

Chosen.

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“Yes, mom,” Paige heard someone sigh. “I promise I’ll be fine.”

The voice came from a new person – Paige had made it a priority to know everyone who lived in her eight-unit building. It must have been the person who had moved into Olivia’s old unit.

She straightened her back and turned the corner, ready to flash the newcomer her golden smile to welcome her to the neighborhood, when she faltered.

Because the woman in front of her was gorgeous.

She had long, dark hair. The front was braided back into a high bun. Her skin was a rich caramel, beautifully tanned by the August sun. Her lips looked to be softer than the most expensive pillows. And her eyes were deep pools of chocolate that Paige would love to get lost in.

She was so stuck in her trance of the new woman that she didn’t notice her going inside of her unit until the door had closed.

Oh well.

She’d try again later.

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After work, Paige went to a store. According to Goggle and Maggie, one of her coworkers, the best housewarming gifts were practical.

Paige had put together a basket with organic dish soap, a back of coffee from the shop by the apartment complex, a pack of soft kitchen towels, and one of those fancy dark bottles of olive oil. She neatly organized all of the goods in a small wicker basket and tucked a card in between the coffee and the soap.

She had to rewrite it seven times, not wanting to be too forward or too mysterious with her words.

Hello! Welcome to the neighborhood! I live in 5B if you ever need help with anything. We’re happy to have you in our building!

- Paige Bueckers

It was simple, to the point, and hopefully her new neighbor would want to come over soon.

She was tired as she carried the basket and her work bag upstairs. There had been a new spike in levels in the Boulder area, and it was going to drive her crazy until she could figure out why it was happening.

She went inside, took a shower, and slipped into comfy clothes.

Paige decided to cook something before heading next door. Spaghetti was quick, easy, and was universally liked.

She put a hefty serving in a glass container, grabbed the basket, and headed over.

She knocked firmly.

The door swung open, and there she was. Same face as this morning, same bun as before. But her eyes looked a little more tired. She wore scrubs, dark blue scrubs. She must work in the healthcare field or something.

“Hi, can I help you?” Her voice was warmer than when she was on the phone that morning.

Paige gave her a small smile and held out the basket. “Hi, I’m Paige. I just wanted to introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

The woman inhaled with a blush. “Oh,” she started. “Thank you for thinking of me. That’s really kind.”

“It’s nothing,” Paige said, making sure to maintain eye contact. “Oh! I also brought you dinner. I remember eating take out for two weeks while I was getting settled in at my place.” She laughed lightly.

“Wow, you’re so sweet. Come in!” She smiled.

She smiled at her.

Jesus. She had one dimple deep enough to fall into and the cutest bunny teeth that rested perfectly on her bottom lip.

“I’m Azzi, by the way.” She said, ushering the taller woman into her apartment.

It was a mirror image of Paige’s, but it was so bare. There was a box with picture of a round table in the middle of the living room. There were also a few boxes with chairs next to it.

Paige followed her inside, putting the large bowl of spaghetti and meat sauce on the island.

“I made spaghetti,” she said, pulling the top off.

Azzi’s face paled as she ran to the sink.

The blonde held her head back and rubbed her back gently. Okay, so maybe everyone doesn’t like spaghetti.

“Oh shit! Are you okay?” Paige questioned, once she was done heaving.

Azzi rinsed the sink and swirled water in her mouth to help get rid of the taste of bile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Tomatoes, citrus, anything acidic really. They’ve all been setting me off.” She said, bleaching the stainless steel surface. “Hopefully it’ll go away once I hit my second trimester.”

Oh. Oh. She’s pregnant. The new information lit up something in Paige’s brain.

"Let me make you something else," she said quickly, already moving toward the fridge. "What can you eat?"

Azzi looked embarrassed. "You don't have to–"

"I want to." Paige opened the fridge, scanning its sparse contents. "Eggs okay?"

"Yeah, actually. Protein's been good."

Paige found a carton of eggs and butter, then got to work. She scrambled them slowly, the way her stepmom taught her, adding a pinch of salt. When she plated them with some buttered toast, Azzi's eyes went soft.

"Thank you," Azzi said quietly, taking the plate. "Really. This is really kind."

They ate standing at the island, Paige with her spaghetti, Azzi with her eggs. They talked about easy things – Azzi's job as a nurse practitioner, Paige's work in environmental science, the building's quirks. Azzi laughed when Paige warned her about the washing machines on the second floor that ate socks.

When Paige left that night, she felt lighter than she had in months.

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September bled into October, and Paige learned Azzi's rhythms without meaning to.

She heard her alarm through the shared wall at 6:15 every morning. Heard the shower run at 6:30. By 7:00, Azzi's door would click shut, and Paige would sometimes time her own departure just to catch a glimpse of her in the hallway.

"Morning," Azzi would say, smile soft and sleepy.

"Morning," Paige would reply, trying not to stare.

By mid-October, Azzi's scrubs fit differently. There was a gentle swell to her belly now, barely noticeable unless you were looking.

Paige was always looking.

One afternoon in early November, Paige found Azzi struggling with grocery bags at the building entrance. Four of them, handles cutting into her palms.

"Here," Paige said, taking three before Azzi could protest. "I got it."

"You don't have to–"

"I know,” she said with a warm smile.

They climbed the stairs together, Azzi slightly breathless by the third floor. Paige slowed her pace without comment.

"Thank you," Azzi said when they reached her door. "Do you want to come in? I could make us some tea." She questioned hesitantly.

Paige did.

They sat on Azzi's new couch, a soft gray sectional that hadn't been there last week, and talked until the sun set. Azzi told her about the baby's father, how he wasn't in the picture, how she was doing this alone. Paige told her about her own family, about her brother, about how she'd always wanted to build something that mattered.

When Paige left that night, Azzi hugged her at the door. Brief, but warm.

Paige thought about it for days.

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By early December, having dinner together had become routine.

Tonight, they were at Azzi's place. Her apartment looked lived-in now – photos on the walls, a small bookshelf filled with paperbacks, a knitted blanket draped over the couch. Paige had brought Thai food, carefully avoiding anything with citrus or too much spice.

Azzi was visibly pregnant now, her belly round and pronounced under her oversized sweater. She moved with a hand pressed to her lower back, and Paige had to resist the urge to reach out, to touch, to help.

"So," Paige said, twirling pad thai around her fork. "The building does this holiday party every year. It's kind of a thing."

"Yeah?" Azzi looked up, interested.

"Yeah. I'm hosting this year. My place. Next Saturday." Paige kept her tone casual, even though her heart was doing something stupid in her chest. "You should come."

Azzi smiled, that dimple appearing. "I'd love to."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Azzi's hand drifted to her belly, an absent, protective gesture. "I've been meaning to meet more people in the building anyway. And..." She looked at Paige, something soft in her expression. "It'll be nice to spend more time with you."

Paige's throat went tight.

"Good," she managed. "That's good."

Azzi went back to her food, oblivious.

But Paige sat there, fork frozen halfway to her mouth, and realized she was in trouble.

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The day of the party, Paige woke up at six.

She told herself it was because she had a lot to do. String lights along the windows. Arrange the food table. Make sure the playlist was perfect – holiday classics, nothing too loud, nothing that would make conversation difficult.

But really, it was because she knew Azzi's alarm went off at 6:15.

Paige had learned her routines without meaning to. The soft shuffle of footsteps through the shared wall. The hum of the coffee maker at 6:30. The shower running at 6:45 on weekdays, 8:00 on weekends. Azzi moved through her mornings like clockwork, and Paige had memorized every beat.

It wasn't creepy. It was just awareness.

She strung the lights carefully, looping them around the window frames and across the bookshelf. The tree in the corner was already decorated – she'd done that last weekend while listening to Azzi hum along to something through the wall. Paige had stood there, ornament in hand, frozen by the sound of it.

The wreath went on the door. The candles on the coffee table. Everything had to be perfect.

By noon, her apartment looked like a Christmas card. Warm. Inviting. Safe.

She was arranging cheese and crackers on a platter when she heard the knock.

"It's open!" she called, expecting Mrs. James from downstairs with her famous gingerbread cookies.

But it was Azzi.

Paige turned, and her breath caught.

Azzi stood in the doorway in a soft cream sweater that draped over her belly, dark jeans, hair down in tight curls. She looked radiant. Glowing, the way people always said pregnant women did, but Paige had never really understood until now.

Her belly was round and full, impossible to ignore, and Paige felt something tighten in her chest that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with awe.

"Hey," Azzi said, smiling. "I know I'm early, but I thought you might need help setting up."

Paige blinked. "You don't have to–"

"I want to." Azzi stepped inside, one hand resting on the curve of her stomach. "Isn’t that what you always tell me?” She asked with a smirk. “Besides, I've been sitting around all morning. I need to move."

Paige watched her walk in, the way she moved carefully, deliberately, like her body was something precious she was learning to carry. And it was. God, it was.

"Okay," Paige said, her voice softer than she meant it to be. "Yeah. Thanks."

Azzi smiled again, that dimple flashing, and moved toward the kitchen. "What can I do?"

Paige handed her a stack of napkins to fold, something easy, and tried not to stare as Azzi settled onto the barstool with a small sigh of relief.

They worked in comfortable silence, the kind they'd built over months of dinners and hallway conversations and quiet moments that felt more intimate than they should.

But Paige's hands shook as she arranged the crackers.

Because she'd been thinking about this for weeks. Months, maybe. The way Azzi laughed. The way she touched her belly without thinking. The way she looked at Paige sometimes, like she was something solid, something safe.

Paige wanted to be that for her. Wanted it so badly it scared her.

"You okay?" Azzi asked, glancing up.

"Yeah." Paige forced a smile. "Just want everything to be perfect."

Azzi's expression softened. "It already is."

And Paige stood there, cheese knife in hand, lights glowing warm around them, and knew with absolute certainty:

She was already gone. She just hadn't acted yet.

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The last guest left around eleven.

Paige closed the door behind Yasmine and Janae and turned to find Azzi still on the couch, shoes kicked off, one hand resting on her belly. The apartment was quiet now, just the soft glow of the tree lights and the distant hum of traffic outside.

"You don't have to help clean up," Paige said, crossing the room.

"I know." Azzi looked up at her, eyes soft and tired. "But I don't really want to leave yet."

Paige's chest tightened. "Then don't."

She moved around the space, putting away food, stacking plates. Azzi watched her, quiet and content, and when Paige finally finished, she held out her hand.

"Come here."

Azzi took it without hesitation.

Paige guided her to the tree, settling down on the floor with her back against the couch. She tugged gently on Azzi's hand, and Azzi followed, lowering herself carefully until she was sitting between Paige's legs, her back resting against Paige's chest.

"Comfortable?" Paige murmured.

"Yeah."

Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi's waist, careful not to press too hard. The tree lights cast soft shadows across them, red and gold and white, and the apartment felt like its own little world.

"Close your eyes," Paige said quietly.

Azzi did.

"Good." Paige's voice was low, grounding. "Just breathe for a second. You've been on your feet all night."

Azzi exhaled slowly, her body relaxing into Paige's.

"That's it," Paige murmured. "Just like that."

She felt Azzi shiver slightly, and she smiled against her hair.

"You did so good tonight," Paige continued, her hands resting lightly on Azzi's sides. "Getting to know everyone, being so sweet. I know it's exhausting."

"It was fun," Azzi whispered.

"I'm glad." Paige paused, her thumb brushing gently along Azzi's ribs. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"Can I touch you? Your belly, I mean."

Azzi's breath hitched. "Yeah. Yes."

Paige moved her hands slowly, deliberately, until they rested on the curve of Azzi's stomach. She felt the warmth of her skin through the soft fabric of her sweater, the firmness of her belly, and something in her chest cracked open.

"You're so beautiful," Paige said, her voice thick. "Do you know that?"

Azzi made a small sound, something between a laugh and a sob.

"I mean it," Paige continued. "You're incredible, Azzi. The way you carry yourself, the way you're doing this on your own. You're so strong."

"I don't feel strong," Azzi whispered.

"You are." Paige's hands moved in slow, soothing circles. "You're growing a whole person. You're building a life. That's the strongest thing I can think of."

Azzi's breath stuttered.

"Hey," she murmured, pressing a kiss to Azzi's temple. "You're okay. I've got you."

"I just–" Azzi's voice broke. "No one's ever treated me like you before."

Paige tilted her chin up, eyes darting down to the perfect pout. “You deserve to be treated like the princess you are. You should never put up with anyone who treats as anything less.”

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A large hand anchored Azzi as she was walked to the front door. It seemed dramatic for Paige to walk her six steps down the hall.

She turned around to give a tired goodbye when something caught her eye.

“Well, would you look at that,” Azzi smirked, looking towards the ceiling.

Right above the doorway was a bundle of greenery tied with a perfect red bow.

Paige’s heart sounded like a drum in her ears.

"Mistletoe," Azzi said softly, her dark eyes finding Paige's. There was something in her expression, nervous but certain, like she'd already made up her mind about something.

Paige's mouth went dry. "Yeah."

"You know the rules," Azzi murmured, stepping closer. Close enough that Paige could smell her shampoo, something vanilla and warm.

"Azzi–" Paige started, but she didn't know how to finish. Didn't know if she should say are you sure or I've wanted this for months or please.

Azzi solved the problem by rising up on her toes, as much as she could with her belly between them, and pressing her lips to Paige's.

It was soft at first. Tentative. A question.

Paige answered by cupping Azzi's face with both hands, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. Azzi made a small sound in the back of her throat, her fingers curling into Paige's shirt, and that sound went straight through Paige like lightning.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Azzi's eyes were dark and wanting.

"Come inside," Paige said, her voice rough. "Please."

Azzi nodded, and Paige guided her back into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them. She pressed Azzi gently against the wall, careful, always careful, but Azzi pulled her closer with surprising strength.

"I'm not going to break," Azzi whispered against her mouth. "I want this. I want you."

Paige groaned, kissing her again, harder this time. Azzi's hands were in her hair, tugging, and Paige's hands found Azzi's waist, her thumbs brushing the underside of her belly through her shirt.

"Bedroom," Azzi breathed between kisses. "Paige, please."

Paige had never moved faster in her life. She took Azzi's hand and led her down the short hallway, into her bedroom where the morning light was just starting to filter through the curtains.

Azzi turned to face her, and there was no hesitation in her expression now. Just want. Just certainty.

"I need you to know," Azzi said, her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "I'm not, I don't look as good as I used to, but after the baby, I will." Her voice shook with nerves.

Paige caught her hands, stopping her. "Azzi. Look at me."

Those dark eyes met hers.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Paige said, and she meant every word. "Every part of you. Especially," She let her gaze drop to Azzi's belly, then back up. "Especially this."

Azzi's breath caught. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Paige stepped closer, sliding her hands under Azzi's shirt, feeling the warm skin of her sides. "Can I?"

Azzi nodded, raising her arms, and Paige carefully pulled the shirt over her head.

The sight of her stole Paige's breath. Azzi in a simple black bra, her breasts fuller than before, her belly round and perfect between them.

"Fuck," Paige breathed. "Azzi."

"Is that a good fuck or–"

Paige kissed her, deep and hungry, walking her backward toward the bed. "The best fuck. You have no idea how gorgeous you are."

She eased Azzi down onto the mattress, following her down, careful to keep her weight off her. Azzi's hands were already working at Paige's shirt, pulling it over her head, and then they were skin to skin and Paige thought she might lose her mind.

"I've thought about this," Azzi admitted, her voice breathy as Paige kissed down her neck. "So many times."

"Yeah?" Paige murmured against her collarbone. "Tell me."

"At night," Azzi said, her fingers threading through Paige's hair. "When I'm alone. I think about your hands on me."

Paige groaned, her hand sliding down to cup Azzi's belly, feeling the firm swell of it. "Like this?"

"Yes," Azzi gasped. "God, yes."

Paige kissed lower, across Azzi's chest, down to the swell of her breasts. She unclasped the bra with practiced ease, tossing it aside, and took one nipple into her mouth. Azzi arched beneath her with a cry.

"Sensitive," she panted. "Everything's so sensitive."

"Good sensitive or bad sensitive?" Paige asked, her tongue circling the hardened peak.

"So good," Azzi moaned. "Don't stop."

Paige lavished attention on her breasts, learning what made Azzi gasp, what made her whimper. Then she kissed lower, across the soft skin of her belly, and felt Azzi tense beneath her.

"Paige–"

"You're so fucking beautiful," Paige murmured, pressing kisses across the curve of her stomach. "Do you know that? Do you know how crazy you make me?"

"I'm huge," Azzi said, but there was less conviction in it now.

"You're perfect." Paige looked up at her, holding her gaze as she kissed just above her navel. "I love this. I love seeing you like this. You have no idea how hot it is."

Azzi's breath was coming faster now. "Really?"

"Really." Paige's hands went to the waistband of Azzi's leggings. "Can I take these off?"

"Please," Azzi breathed.

Paige peeled them down slowly, along with her underwear, and then Azzi was bare beneath her, flushed and wanting and so beautiful it hurt to look at her.

"Come here," Azzi said, reaching for her. "I want to feel you."

Paige stripped off her own pants and underwear quickly, then settled beside Azzi on the bed, pulling her close. The feeling of their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, Azzi's belly warm against her stomach, was almost overwhelming.

"Okay?" Paige asked, her hand sliding down Azzi's side.

"More than okay," Azzi said, and then she was kissing Paige again, deep and hungry, her leg hooking over Paige's hip.

Paige's hand slid between them, cupping Azzi's belly, then lower. When her fingers found the wet heat between Azzi's thighs, they both groaned.

"Fuck, you're so wet," Paige breathed.

"For you," Azzi gasped. "All for you."

Paige circled her clit slowly, watching Azzi's face, learning what she liked. Azzi's head fell back, her mouth open, small sounds escaping her with each touch.

"More," Azzi pleaded. "Paige, please, I need more."

Paige slid lower, positioning herself between Azzi's thighs. She pressed a kiss to the inside of one knee, then higher, then higher still.

"Oh my god," Azzi breathed, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Paige–"

The first taste of her made Paige moan. She was sweet and perfect and Paige wanted to stay here forever, wanted to learn every sound Azzi could make, every way to make her fall apart.

She worked her slowly, carefully, paying attention to every gasp and whimper. When she slid two fingers inside, Azzi cried out, her hips lifting off the bed.

"Yes," Azzi moaned. "Just like that, don't stop, please don't stop!"

Paige didn't stop. She curled her fingers, finding that spot inside that made Azzi shake, her tongue circling Azzi's clit in steady rhythm. Azzi's hand found her hair, holding her there, and Paige loved it, loved being held by her, loved making her feel this good.

"Paige," Azzi gasped, her voice breaking. "I'm gonna – oh God, I'm –"

She came with a cry, her whole body tensing, and Paige worked her through it, gentling her touches as Azzi trembled and gasped above her.

When Azzi finally stilled, Paige pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs, her belly, working her way back up until she could kiss her mouth.

"Holy shit," Azzi breathed against her lips.

Paige grinned. "Good?"

"Are you kidding?" Azzi laughed, the sound breathless and happy. "That was – I don't even have words."

She pulled Paige closer, kissing her deeply, and Paige could feel her smiling against her mouth.

"Your turn," Azzi murmured, her hand sliding down Paige's stomach.

"You don't have to–"

"I want to," Azzi said firmly. "Lay back."

Paige did, and Azzi shifted carefully, moving to straddle her thigh. The feeling of Azzi's weight on her, her belly pressed against Paige's stomach, was almost too much.

"Is this okay?" Azzi asked, her hand sliding between Paige's legs. "Am I too heavy?"

"You're perfect," Paige gasped as Azzi's fingers found her clit. "Fuck, Azzi."

Azzi worked her with confident strokes, watching Paige's face with dark, hungry eyes. "You're so wet," she murmured. "Is this all for me?"

"Yes," Paige moaned. "All for you, only you–"

Azzi leaned down to kiss her, her fingers never stopping their rhythm, and Paige was lost in it, in the feeling of Azzi's body against hers, Azzi's hand between her legs, Azzi's mouth on hers.

"Come for me," Azzi whispered against her lips. "I want to feel you come."

That was all it took. Paige came hard, crying out Azzi's name, her hips lifting off the bed as pleasure crashed through her in waves.

When she finally came back to herself, Azzi was pressed against her side, one hand resting on Paige's chest, feeling her racing heartbeat.

"Hi," Azzi said softly, smiling.

"Hi," Paige breathed, turning to kiss her. "That was–"

"Yeah," Azzi agreed. "It really was."

They lay there in the soft morning light, tangled together, Paige's hand resting on Azzi's belly. She could feel the baby moving, small flutters against her palm.

"She's active this morning," Azzi said with a small laugh.

"She knows something good just happened," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to Azzi's shoulder.

Azzi turned in her arms, facing her fully. "Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want this to be just once," Azzi said quietly. "I don't want to go back to just being neighbors who have breakfast together."

Paige's heart squeezed. "What do you want?"

"This," Azzi said, gesturing between them. "You. All of it. If – if you want that too."

Paige cupped her face, looking into those dark eyes that had become her favorite thing to see first thing in the morning. "I want that more than anything."

Azzi's smile was brilliant, dimple and all. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Paige kissed her softly. "You're not getting rid of me now, Fudd."

"Good," Azzi murmured against her lips. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the December morning light painting everything gold. Outside, the world was preparing for Christmas, but in here, in this moment, Paige had everything she needed.

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Under the Mistletoe Trope: Neighbors to friends to lovers Kinks: Pregnancy, praise

Chosen, Not Earned Trope: Professor and TA Kinks: Praise, mommy

Jingle Bells Nog Trope: Bartender and regular Kinks: Praise, subtle dom/sub

All I Want for Christmas Is You (To Behave) Trope: Fuck buddies Kinks: Praise, public sex, teasing

Home for Christmas Trope: WNBA and UConn Kinks: Possession, degradation, mirror, jersey, worship

Watching You Trope: Stalker bestie Kinks: Stalking, obsession

Still Mine Trope: Seeing your wife as a bridesmaid Kinks: Mirror, paise

25 Days of Pleasure Trope: Sex calendar Kinks: Blindfolds, sensory deprivation, exhibitionism, bondage, edging

Ruins of Perfection Trope: Married woman and coworker Kinks: idk lol. They destroy the house and someone gets tied up with holiday decor

What He Doesn't Know Trope: Cheating with your sister-in-law Kinks: Possession, size, breeding, marks, strap warming

Sugar and Snow Trope: Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby Kinks: Age gap, daddy, dom/sub, praise, possession, control, lap dance