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“Hey, where are you? I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour already,” I sigh as he finally answers the telephone. “I am so sorry, darling. The interview took longer and we were in this pillbox with no reception whatsoever. I’m almost there, give me 10 minutes,” he apologises quickly, his breath a little quickened but his voice still soft as velvet. “Well, you better be,” I mumble in reply, a small smile creeping onto my lips and he knows it. “Love you,” he whispers before hanging up and I shove the phone back into my pocket. Taking a last sip from the now empty white cardboard cup in my hands, I throw it in the nearest dustbin and stroll around the market again. Not that I’ve done anything else for the past hour but it can’t hurt to have another look. The small stalls are packed with goods, food, and trinkets from all over the world, filling the square with an enticing mixture of smells and sounds and colours.
I smile as I finally spot him amidst the other visitors of the Christmas market. His hair, ginger and curly, looks ruffled and his black tie, just about visible under his dark coat, is slightly askew. His eyes dart around, taking in the stalls, the lights, the people, looking for me and I decide he deserves a little punishment for turning up so incredibly late even if it wasn’t entirely his fault. Quickly, I hide behind another food stall, the baked goods smelling deliciously, making my mouth water. One of the marketers offers me a piece to try and I smile thankfully before I take it, not having understood a single word he just said to me. Maybe I should have brought my German dictionary along. I mumble one of the few words I know in this language, “Dankeschön,” and take a bite, the texture of the pastry soft and crumbly in my mouth as the sugar icing gently awakens my taste buds after the piping hot coffee earlier on. While I try to come up with a friendly thing to say to the young man selling the sweet treats, I realise he has already moved on to the next customer and I smile, stepping away from the baked goods in my attempt to teach Benedict a lesson.
“So, either you are trying to hide from me now or you did actually not see me earlier and you genuinely wanted to try some pastry just now,” he growls behind me and I bite my lip with a grin ere I slowly turn around. “Originally, I wanted to confess to the first but the way you look at me right now, I might actually agree to the second,” I laugh quietly as he looks down on me, his eyes a shade darker than usually. He tries to look angry but I can see the sides of his mouth twitching a little. “And actually, it is me who should be mad at you, Mr Important,” I add with a wink and slowly bury my hands underneath his coat, which leads to him finally dropping his pretense with a low and rumbling laugh. “I know, I am deeply sorry. I really am,” he nods, wrapping his arms around my waist, and I smile. “You’re forgiven. But only if you promise that we try something from every food stall here tonight. It all looks soooo delicious. It is really a shame we don’t have these in England.” He nods in agreement, pressing soft kisses on my cheek and jaw all the way to my ear before he whispers, “I already know what I am having for dessert.” For a moment I close my eyes, glad that his arms are tightly wrapped around me for fear that my knees might give way. After all this time, he still has the ability to reduce me to a puddle of goo when he says things like this in that sultry, seducing voice of his, which sends shivers down my spine and to other places beyond.
***
“There we go. Careful, it’s hot,” he smiles as he places two newly filled mugs of mulled wine in front of me. It’s snowing heavily by now and we’re standing underneath a little roof belonging to one of the many stalls selling mulled wine, tea, grog, hot punch, and other warming Christmas beverages. The square is slowly getting emptier as it’s the middle of the week and the thick snowflakes falling from the dark grey sky are chasing many people back into their warm and comfy beds at the end of this long working day. Carefully wrapping my gloved hands around the porcelain mug, I lean onto Benedict standing behind me, his hands intertwined on top of my stomach, encasing me with his warmth and protection. “So, do you think we’ve tried every possible food available here?,” he mumbles into my ear with a grin and I contemplate his question for a moment. “Possibly,” I laugh and take a careful sip of the mulled wine, hot and spicy in my mouth. “Hm, I think we have. And that would mean we can go back to the hotel and I can have my dessert at last,” he adds, quietly, his fingers slowly unbuttoning my coat and slipping underneath it, his movements fortunately hidden by the bar table in front of us.
I turn around in his embrace and look up into his eyes, blue and green and deep as the ocean, while I let my hands slip underneath his coat again. “Would you dance with me one more time before we go?,” I ask shyly as the familiar tunes of Michael Buble’s version of “All I want For Christmas” echo around the square and Benedict nods with a loving smile. I giggle quietly as he pulls me away from the protective roof and right into the heavy snowfall. His arms wrap around me once more and I bury my hands in the fabric of his dress shirt as we slowly sway along to the music. I close my eyes with a smile as he starts to hum along, the vibrations making his chest underneath my cheek rumble while thick snowflakes land on our hair and coats and shoes. “I love you,” he whispers as we dance, no longer listening to the music but the rhythm of our hearts instead. “I love you, too,” I breathe and look up, his wide, happy smile warming up my every fibre.
***
“I can’t feel my toes anymore,” I laugh as we enter the hotel room quite some time later. Despite the heavy snow, we had walked to the hotel, marvelling at the Christmas decorations and the feeling of serenity in the streets of the city so very far away from home. “I could warm them up for you,” he grins and he helps me out of my coat. “Oh, I had hoped you could,” I laugh cheekily, leaving my shoes beside the door before I tiptoe to the bathroom with its gigantic jacuzzi in front of the panorama window. “Actually..., darling?” I turn around. “Yes?” I look at him questioningly as he crosses the room to come to a halt in the bathroom doorway. “Would you mind waiting in the bedroom while I get everything ready?,” Benedict asks with a gentle smile and, even though I am still a little confused, I nod. “Sure, no problem,” I add, lovingly, and kiss him as I walk past him and back into the large but cosy bedroom.
With a content sigh, I sit down on the bed, my feet dangling just above the ground, and I smile as I think back to our dance. We had danced for so long that our mulled wine was cold by the time we went back to the table but neither of us cared, and as we crossed the square to walk back to our hotel, the footprints we had left in the snow were almost covered again by a new layer of white, powdery fluff. I look up as there’s a knock on the door and a friendly voice announces “Zimmerservice”. “Um, Benedict, did you order something?,” I call out towards the bathroom and the door opens for a brief second as he slips out. “Don’t move,” he grins at me and walks over to open the door for the young man. Shortly after we are alone again and without saying anything else, he takes the food platter and champagne over to the bathroom. “I still can’t feel my toes,” I tease him and he simply laughs in reply and closes the door behind him. I decide to pout until he comes out and gets me and, letting out a huff, I fall backwards into the pillows.
As the bathroom door opens once more, I can’t be bothered to look up until he stands right in front of me, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. I bite my lip with a smile and take his offered hands ere he helps me up. “Looking good, Mr Cumberbatch,” I whisper with a grin and he chuckles. “I can only return the compliment, Mrs Cumberbatch,” he breathes lovingly, his hands gliding slowly around my waist until they come to rest just above my rear. Without taking my eyes off his, I loosen his tie even more until I let it fall to the floor, now working on the buttons of his crisp, white dress shirt, opening them one by one by one. His skin is warm and firm under my touch and I can’t resist but leave feathery kisses on his muscular chest while I push the shirt off his shoulders so it can join his tie on the carpet. I can feel his eyes rest on me, so full of love and tenderness, and I smile against his skin. Kiss by kiss, I move further up, sucking gently on the tender tissue of his neck until our lips finally meet in a passionate kiss.
For a moment our heavy breathing and the rasping sound of the zipper on my dress are the only sounds in the room, followed by the ruffling of the fabric as he pushes it off my body, leaving me in nothing but my specifically chosen ensemble of white lace lingerie and stockings. His eyes roam over my body in admiration, making me blush from head to toe and tenderly his fingertips trace the lace design on my bra. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers against my skin as he peppers it with kisses all the way from my neck down to my cleavage. I giggle quietly as he picks me up with a smile and carries me over to the bathroom. “I hope that will help you warm up again,” he mumbles a little shyly and with wide eyes I look around the room, basked in nothing but candlelight while the steaming bath in the jacuzzi is too inviting to resist. “That most definitely will warm me up. But only if you’re included in the package,” I grin and look at him again, as he gently sets me down onto the tiled floor, warm and comfy under our naked feet.
***
“Mhmm, this is divine,” I sigh with closed eyes, leaning onto him, the warm water embracing us with ease. I can feel him nod as he gently nibbles on my earlobe, his hands roaming over my body as if they’d never been there before. Slowly, I let my fingertips glide along his arms, strong and protective under my touch, yet still gentle and loving. Opening my eyes once more, I marvel at the sight before us. Due to the height of the hotel and the position of the jacuzzi right in front of the window, the entire city is laid out in front of us, its streets lit up with thousands of lights, illuminating the snow still falling heavily from the sky, covering everything with a thick, white blanket. “This is perfect,” I breathe, turning my head a little to look at my husband. “Just like you,” he smiles and I blush. “I’m not perfect,” I object but he shushes me gently with his fingertip. “To me you are and that’s all I care about,” he whispers and I breathe a kiss onto his finger before I turn around in his embrace, straddling his legs.
“I think you mentioned dessert earlier,” I grin cheekily as my gaze falls on the food next to the jacuzzi. “I did indeed,” he nods, lifting his eyebrows with amusement. Curiously, I take off the silver lids from all the plates only to reveal a selection of fruit and melted chocolate. Giving him an approving glance, I scoop up some of the chocolate with a spoon and, faking expertise, I let it drop onto his collarbone and chest. Excruciatingly slow, I lick the warm sauce from his skin, relishing the taste and his quiet sigh of pleasure as he buries a hand in my long, brown hair. “Mhmm, that was delicious,” I whisper into his ear with a smile and his grip on my waist tightens just that tiny bit. “You should give it a try,” I add just as quietly and he growls in response before picking up the spoon himself. I hold my breath for a moment as the warm chocolate drips onto my skin, leaving sweet trails as it runs over my breasts in slow motion. For a moment he admires his work, following the chocolaty trails with his ocean blue eyes ere he licks them off without haste but instead savouring every drop and every nip. I cannot resist but moan quietly as his tongue glides over my skin while his hands hold me close against his body, the hot, comforting water like a blanket around us. “That was delicious indeed,” he breathes against my lips and I smile as they melt with his, the taste of chocolate once more mixed with the unmistakable taste of him.
