🔥 Exclusive Bonus Content 🔥

Thank you for reading Snowed In With Her! Here’s your exclusive bonus chapter — the Friday night scene that was too explicit for Amazon.

Friday Night

GEMMA

This scene takes place after the events of Snowed In With Her.

The brownstone was exactly what Gemma had expected: warm wood floors, exposed brick, furniture that looked like it had been chosen for comfort rather than style. It smelled like Brennan—cedar and woodsmoke and something warmer underneath.

It smelled like home.

“You’re staring,” Brennan said, hanging Gemma’s coat by the door.

“I’m appreciating.” Gemma turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. “You built this place too?”

“Renovated it. The bones were already here.” Brennan moved past her toward the kitchen, and Gemma’s eyes tracked the shift of muscle under her simple black henley. “Wine?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m trying to be a good host.” Brennan’s lips curved as she pulled a bottle from the rack. “Getting you drunk comes later.”

Gemma’s stomach flipped.

Four days. She’d survived four days without Brennan’s hands on her, without that low voice in her ear, without the safety and surrender she’d found in that snowed-in cabin. Four days of replaying every moment, every touch, every whispered good girl that had rewired her brain.

Four days of not being allowed to touch herself.

She was going to combust.

“I did what you asked,” she blurted out.

Brennan paused, corkscrew in hand. “Did you?”

“I didn’t… you said not to…” Gemma’s face burned. “I followed your instructions.”

Brennan set down the bottle. Crossed the kitchen slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving Gemma’s face. She didn’t stop until they were inches apart, until Gemma could feel the heat radiating off her body.

“Show me.”

Gemma’s breath caught. “What?”

“You said you followed instructions.” Brennan’s hand came up, cupping Gemma’s jaw with devastating gentleness. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Take off your clothes.” Brennan’s thumb traced her lower lip. “Let me see how desperate you are.”

Gemma’s hands were shaking as she reached for the hem of her sweater. She pulled it over her head, dropped it on the floor. The bra followed—black lace, chosen specifically for tonight—and then she was bare from the waist up, nipples hardening in the cool air.

“Keep going.”

She unzipped her jeans. Pushed them down her hips, stepped out of them. She was wearing matching panties—black lace, practically see-through—and she could feel how wet they already were. Just from Brennan looking at her. Just from being seen.

“Those too.”

Gemma hooked her thumbs in the waistband and slid the panties down her legs. She stood naked in Brennan’s kitchen, trembling, exposed, and so aroused she could barely stand.

Brennan circled her slowly. Gemma felt those gray eyes on her skin like a physical touch—cataloging every curve, every mark that had faded since the cabin, every inch of her that belonged to this woman now.

“Four days,” Brennan murmured. “No touching. Were you good the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Even when you woke up wet and aching in the middle of the night?”

Gemma whimpered. “Yes.”

“Even when you thought about me? About what I did to you?” Brennan stopped behind her, breath warm on Gemma’s neck. “About what I’m going to do to you tonight?”

“Yes.” It came out desperate, broken. “I was good. I swear I was good.”

“I believe you.” Brennan’s hand slid around to Gemma’s stomach, pulling her back against that solid body. “And good girls get rewarded.”

Her fingers slipped lower, parting Gemma’s folds, and Gemma cried out at the first touch. She was drenched—had been drenched since she’d walked through the door—and Brennan made a low, satisfied sound at finding her that way.

“Four days of this,” Brennan murmured, fingers sliding through slick heat. “Four days of wanting. Of needing.”

“Please—”

“Not yet.” Brennan’s other hand came up to grip Gemma’s throat—not squeezing, just holding. Possessing. “First you’re going to tell me what you thought about. Every fantasy. Every desperate, filthy thing that went through your mind while you were waiting for me.”

Gemma’s head fell back against Brennan’s shoulder. The fingers between her legs were barely moving—just stroking, teasing, keeping her on edge without giving her anything close to enough.

“I thought about… about the cabin.” Her voice came out broken, barely recognizable. “About being over your knee.”

“Mm.” Brennan’s thumb brushed her clit, and Gemma’s hips jerked. “What else?”

“I thought about your hands. How big they are. How they feel when you—” She gasped as two fingers pressed inside her, shallow, teasing. “Fuck—when you’re inside me.”

“Like this?”

“Deeper. Please. I need—”

“You’ll take what I give you.” Brennan’s grip on her throat tightened slightly. “What else?”

Gemma’s mind was fracturing, thoughts scattering like sparks. “I thought about… about saying it.”

The fingers inside her stilled. “Saying what?”

“The word.” Gemma’s heart was pounding against Brennan’s palm. “The one I almost said in the cabin. Before I stopped myself.”

Silence. Then, roughly: “Say it now.”

Gemma turned her head, finding Brennan’s mouth by instinct. The kiss was searing, desperate, and when she pulled back, the word fell from her lips like a confession.

“Daddy.”

Brennan’s control shattered.

One moment Gemma was standing in the kitchen, and the next she was being lifted, carried, her legs wrapping around Brennan’s waist as they crashed through a doorway and onto a massive bed. Brennan was on top of her, pressing her into the mattress, mouth devouring hers while those clever fingers found her cunt again and thrust deep.

“Say it again.” The words were growled against her throat. “Fucking say it again.”

“Daddy—” Gemma arched into the touch, her body clenching around Brennan’s fingers. “Daddy, please—”

“Do you have any idea—” Brennan was shaking, actually shaking, her usual control completely gone. “How long I’ve wanted to hear you call me that?”

“I wanted to say it.” Gemma clawed at Brennan’s shoulders, desperate to get her closer. “In the cabin, when you were fucking me, I wanted to—”

Brennan kissed her silent, thrust her fingers harder, and Gemma screamed into her mouth.

“You can say it now.” Brennan’s thumb found her clit, pressing in devastating circles. “You can say it every time I make you come. Which is going to be a lot tonight.”

“Daddy—”

“That’s my girl.” Brennan added a third finger, stretching her open, and Gemma’s vision whited out. “That’s my perfect, desperate girl. You waited so long. You were so good. Now take what you earned.”

She fucked Gemma with relentless precision—deep, hard strokes that hit every spot that made her scream. Her other hand gripped Gemma’s hip, holding her in place, not letting her squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Come for Daddy.” The words were guttural, raw. “Right now. Let me feel it.”

Gemma shattered.

The orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, her whole body convulsing, cunt clenching so hard around Brennan’s fingers it was almost painful. She screamed—actually screamed, the sound torn from somewhere primal—and Brennan worked her through every wave, every aftershock, until Gemma collapsed boneless against the mattress.

“Good girl.” Brennan’s voice was tender now, her fingers gentle as they withdrew. “So good. So beautiful when you come.”

Gemma couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. She felt Brennan moving, heard the rustle of fabric, and then—

She forced her eyes open.

Brennan was stripping off her clothes with quick, efficient movements. The henley went first, revealing those broad shoulders, those incredible arms. Then the sports bra, freeing breasts that made Gemma’s mouth water. Then jeans and underwear together, kicked aside, and Brennan was naked.

Naked and reaching into the nightstand.

The harness she pulled out was different from the one at the cabin—black leather, heavier, with a cock that made Gemma’s eyes go wide. It was bigger than before. Thicker. The kind of toy that would make her feel it for days.

“Can you take it?” Brennan asked, stepping into the harness.

Gemma’s cunt clenched around nothing. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?” Brennan tightened the straps, adjusting the fit. “It’s a lot.”

“I want it.” Gemma spread her legs wider, an invitation. A plea. “I want all of it. I want you.”

Brennan climbed back onto the bed, settling between Gemma’s thighs. The head of the cock brushed against her entrance, slick with her own arousal, and Gemma whimpered.

“Look at me.”

Gemma met those gray eyes—fierce and tender and so full of love it made her chest ache.

“I love you,” Brennan said.

“I love you too.” Gemma reached up, cupping Brennan’s face. “Now fuck me, Daddy.”

Brennan pushed inside.

The stretch was immense—pressure bordering on pain, her body struggling to accommodate the girth. Gemma gasped, fingers digging into Brennan’s shoulders, and Brennan froze.

“Too much?”

“No—” Gemma rolled her hips, taking more. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Brennan sank deeper, inch by inch, watching Gemma’s face for any sign of discomfort. But there was only pleasure—overwhelming, consuming pleasure, the feeling of being filled so completely she couldn’t tell where she ended and Brennan began.

When Brennan was finally seated to the hilt, they both groaned.

“You’re so tight.” Brennan’s voice was strained. “So fucking tight around Daddy’s cock.”

“Move. Please.”

Brennan moved.

She pulled back slowly, then thrust forward in one smooth stroke, and Gemma saw stars. Again. And again. And again. Each thrust deeper than the last, each one hitting spots that made her cry out, each one reminding her exactly who she belonged to.

“This is mine.” Brennan’s hand slid between them, fingers finding Gemma’s clit. “This cunt. This body. You. All mine.”

“Yours—” Gemma was sobbing now, tears streaming down her face, pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. “I’m yours, Daddy, all yours—”

“Say it again.”

“Daddy—”

Brennan fucked her harder, the bed slamming against the wall, and Gemma let go of everything. Every inhibition. Every fear. Every wall she’d ever built to keep people out. She let Brennan tear them all down, let herself be stripped bare and remade, let herself belong in a way she never had before.

“Come with me.” Brennan’s voice cracked. “I’m so close—come with me, baby—”

Gemma came.

This orgasm was different—deeper, fuller, originating somewhere in her core and radiating outward until her whole body was shaking. She clenched around the cock inside her, feeling Brennan thrust through the contractions, feeling her own release trigger Brennan’s.

Brennan came with a roar, her hips stuttering, her whole body going rigid above Gemma. The base of the harness ground against her clit and she shattered, collapsing onto Gemma with a groan that Gemma felt in her bones.

They lay tangled together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked skin cooling in the quiet room.

“Holy shit,” Gemma managed finally.

Brennan laughed—a raw, breathless sound. “Yeah.”

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Gemma turned her head, pressing a kiss to whatever part of Brennan she could reach—her shoulder, it turned out. “I meant it. The word. I want to call you that. All the time.”

Brennan lifted her head, her eyes soft. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gemma smiled, shy and fierce at once. “Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.” Brennan kissed her, slow and sweet. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“I’m really not.”

“You are to me.” Brennan eased out of her carefully, making Gemma wince at the sudden emptiness. She dealt with the harness quickly, then gathered Gemma into her arms, pulling the blankets over both of them.

“Stay,” Brennan murmured against her hair. “Not just tonight. Stay forever.”

Gemma burrowed closer, her heart so full it hurt.

“I already said yes, remember? At the cabin.”

“Say it again.”

Gemma smiled. “Yes, Daddy. Forever.”

Brennan’s arms tightened around her, and Gemma felt it—that perfect, impossible rightness. The sense of finally, finally being exactly where she was meant to be.

She fell asleep wrapped in Brennan’s arms, safe and loved and completely, irrevocably home.

THE END