Chapter 17 Morning After: Vows in the Dawn Light
The first rays of dawn pierced through the frost-laced windows of Rowan's house, casting a soft, golden glow over the tangled sheets. Holly stirred, her body aching in the best possible way—muscles sore from the night's frenzy, skin marked with faint bruises from Rowan's desperate grip. She could still feel the echo of him inside her, the raw, unprotected claim he'd made under the aurora. No barriers, no regrets. Just them, fused in a moment that had rewritten their futures.
Rowan lay beside her, his broad chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. His arm was slung possessively over her waist, fingers splayed across her hip as if even in sleep, he couldn't bear to let go. The ring on her finger caught the light—a simple silver band with a small diamond that sparkled like captured starlight. It felt heavy, real, a promise etched in metal.
Holly shifted closer, pressing her naked body against his. The heat of him chased away the lingering chill from their outdoor escapade. She traced a finger down his chest, following the red trails her nails had left the night before. He stirred, eyes fluttering open, those piercing blue depths locking onto hers with an intensity that made her core clench.
"Morning, fiancée," he murmured, voice rough with sleep and satisfaction. His hand slid up her side, thumb brushing the underside of her breast, sending a shiver through her.
"Morning, lunatic," she teased, leaning in to nip at his jaw. "You proposed in a snowstorm. After nearly freezing us to death with that kiss."
Rowan's lips curved into a wicked grin. He rolled her onto her back in one fluid motion, pinning her beneath him. His weight was delicious, his hardening length pressing against her thigh. "You loved every second of it," he growled, capturing her mouth in a deep, lazy kiss that tasted like salt and promise.
Holly arched into him, her hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles flex under her touch. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the slick heat building between them again. "Prove it," she whispered against his lips, her voice breathy and challenging.
He didn't need more invitation. Rowan's hand dipped between her thighs, fingers finding her already wet and swollen from the night before. He stroked her slowly, teasing, circling her clit with agonizing precision. Holly gasped, hips bucking up to meet his touch. "Rowan... please..."
He watched her face, eyes dark with hunger, as he slid one finger inside her, then two, curling them just right. "Say it again," he demanded, his free hand pinning her wrist above her head. "Say you're mine."
"Yours," she moaned, her body trembling as he pumped his fingers faster, thumb pressing firmly on her sensitive nub. The pleasure built like a storm, coiling tight in her belly. "Only yours... oh God, Rowan—"
He swallowed her cry with another kiss as she came undone, waves of ecstasy crashing over her. Her inner walls pulsed around his fingers, soaking his hand. He didn't stop until she was limp and panting, then he withdrew, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean with a groan that made her ache all over again.
"Fuck, you taste like heaven," he rasped, positioning himself at her entrance. He thrust in slowly this time, inch by inch, savoring the way she stretched around him. No condom again—trust, raw and complete. Holly's nails dug into his shoulders as he filled her, the sensation overwhelming, perfect.
They moved together in a rhythm born of last night's desperation but tempered by the morning's light. Slow, deep thrusts that had her whimpering his name, her legs locked around him. Rowan's mouth found her breast, sucking hard on the nipple, teeth grazing just enough to send sparks of pain-pleasure shooting through her. "I love you," he murmured against her skin, hips grinding in circles that hit every sensitive spot inside her.
"I love you too," she gasped, her hands fisting in his hair as the pressure built again. He sped up, driving harder, the bed creaking under them. Sweat slicked their bodies, the room filling with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, moans and whispers.
When they climaxed together, it was quieter but no less intense—Rowan's groan muffled in her neck as he spilled deep inside her, her body milking him dry. They collapsed in a heap of limbs, hearts pounding in sync.
For a while, they just lay there, basking in the afterglow. Rowan's fingers traced lazy patterns on her stomach, dipping lower now and then to tease her oversensitive folds. Holly swatted his hand away with a laugh. "Mercy! I need coffee before round three."
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Fine. But only because Lily will be up soon." He kissed her forehead and rolled out of bed, gloriously naked, muscles rippling as he pulled on boxers. Holly admired the view—the strong lines of his back, the faint scratches she'd left, the way his ass flexed as he moved.
Downstairs, the kitchen smelled like fresh snow and pine from the tree in the living room. Rowan started the coffee maker while Holly, wrapped in his flannel from the night before, rummaged for eggs and bacon. The ring caught her eye every few seconds, making her smile like an idiot.
"So, about that wedding," Rowan said, leaning against the counter, arms crossed. His eyes raked over her, lingering where the flannel gaped open, revealing the curve of her breast. "Tomorrow sound good?"
Holly laughed, cracking eggs into a bowl. "Eager much? We should at least tell Jack and Lily first. And plan something small. Evergreen Hollow isn't exactly Vegas."
He stepped behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, chin on her shoulder. His hands slid under the flannel, cupping her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened. "Small works," he murmured, nipping her earlobe. "As long as it's soon. I want you officially mine before the next game."
Holly leaned back into him, feeling his arousal pressing against her ass. "Mmm, possessive hockey star. I like it." She turned in his arms, the eggs forgotten, and kissed him deeply. Her hands slipped into his boxers, stroking his length until he groaned into her mouth.
They might have gone further right there on the kitchen counter if not for the patter of small feet on the stairs. Lily appeared, rubbing her eyes, her pajamas rumpled. "Daddy? Miss Holly? Why are you here so early?"
Rowan quickly adjusted himself, stepping back with a cough. Holly smoothed her flannel, face flushing. "Morning, sweetie! I... stayed over because of the snowstorm."
Lily's eyes lit up at the sight of Holly. "Yay! Can we make pancakes?"
"Of course," Holly said, grateful for the distraction. As they cooked together—Lily standing on a stool, stirring batter—Rowan caught Holly's eye over the girl's head, his gaze promising more later. Heat pooled in her belly at the thought.
After breakfast, they sat Lily down on the couch. The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly, a reminder of how far they'd come from fake dates to this real family moment.
"Lily, honey," Rowan started, pulling her onto his lap. "How would you feel if Holly lived with us? All the time?"
Lily's blue eyes widened. "Like a mommy?"
Holly's heart squeezed. Rowan nodded. "Yeah, like that. I asked Holly to marry me last night, and she said yes."
Lily squealed, launching herself at Holly for a hug. "You're gonna be my mommy! Can I be in the wedding? With a pretty dress?"
Holly laughed, tears pricking her eyes. "Absolutely. The prettiest dress ever."
The morning turned into a whirlwind of calls. First Jack, who whooped so loud Holly had to hold the phone away. "About damn time! I knew the fake dating would turn real. Just don't make me wear a tux."
Then their parents—Holly's mom cried happy tears, Rowan's dad gruffly congratulated them. The town would buzz soon enough; Evergreen Hollow loved a good romance.
By afternoon, they bundled up and headed to the Christmas market for wedding ideas. Snow crunched under their boots, the air crisp and filled with cinnamon scents. Lily skipped ahead, chattering about flowers.
Rowan held Holly's hand, thumb rubbing over the ring. "You sure about this? Fast track to forever?"
She squeezed his hand. "I've never been surer. But... we should talk about kids. Last night, no protection..."
His eyes darkened with heat. "If it happens, great. Lily would love a sibling. And I'd love making them with you." He pulled her into a side alley between stalls, backing her against a wall. His mouth found hers in a scorching kiss, hands roaming under her coat to squeeze her ass.
Holly moaned softly, pressing against him. "Rowan, we're in public..."
"Don't care," he muttered, sliding a hand between her legs, rubbing through her jeans. The friction made her gasp. "Want you now."
They barely made it back home before clothes were flying. Lily napped in her room, giving them precious alone time. Rowan carried Holly to the bedroom, tossing her on the bed. He stripped her slowly, kissing every inch of exposed skin—her neck, her breasts, her stomach, down to her thighs.
"Spread for me," he commanded, voice low and rough. Holly obeyed, legs parting as he settled between them. His tongue flicked over her clit, then delved deeper, lapping at her with hungry strokes. She bucked against his mouth, fingers tangled in his hair, crying out as he sucked and licked her to the edge.
"Rowan... I'm close..."
He added fingers, thrusting in time with his tongue, until she shattered, gushing against him. He drank her down, then climbed up her body, entering her in one smooth glide.
This time was tender at first, then built to frantic. He pounded into her, her legs over his shoulders, hitting depths that made stars burst behind her eyes. "Come for me again," he growled, pinching her nipple.
She did, screaming his name, and he followed, filling her once more.
Exhausted, they dozed, bodies entwined.
Evening brought wedding planning. Over dinner—takeout pizza—they sketched ideas. A small ceremony at the tree farm, surrounded by lights and snow. Vows under the stars, like their proposal.
As Lily bedtime-storied away, Rowan and Holly retreated to the couch. Wine in hand, they talked dreams—honeymoon in a cabin, more kids someday, balancing his hockey with her matchmaking.
Talk turned to touches. Rowan's hand up her skirt, fingers teasing her panties aside. Holly straddled him, grinding against his bulge. "One more time," she whispered, freeing him and sinking down.
They rocked together slowly, mouths fused, her riding him with rolling hips. His hands guided her, thumbs on her clit, until they came quietly, shuddering in each other's arms.
As night fell, Holly lay in his embrace, the ring a constant reminder. This was their forever—passionate, real, unbreakable.
The town slumbered, but in Rowan's house, love burned bright, promising endless tomorrows