Love on the Edge

2. Chapter Two

I’m so glad I left the party.

But leaving with this guy? Definitely not part of the plan.

We sit in silence, but there’s no awkwardness. I like that. No pressure to talk. No need to fill the quiet with meaningless words. I’ve never been good at it, hence why my sport of choice isn’t a team sport.

I have no idea where we’re going. Just that Ethan knows a spot.

I keep peeking over at him. I tell myself I’m just checking where we are, but that’s a lie.

The glow from the dashboard catches on the sharp angles of his face—strong jaw, lips slightly parted, focused on the road like nothing can shake him. His hands grip the wheel, fingers steady, forearms tense just enough to make me wonder how it would feel if he ever let go.

He’s hot. Effortlessly, unfairly hot. The kind of guy who probably looks good without even trying. Broad shoulders, strong arms, the kind of build that comes from real work, not just lifting weights in a gym. Sandy blond hair that’s just a little too messy, like he ran a hand through it without thinking. And those eyes—blue, sharp, watching me like he’s already trying to figure me out.

And the worst part? I don’t think he even knows it.

We pull up to the spot. A wide-open field, dark except for the sky above us. Out here, the stars feel closer, endless, stretching beyond anything I can explain. The air is crisp, cool against my skin. The quiet settles in, wrapping around us like a second blanket. It’s peaceful.

Too peaceful.

“Do you want to sit in the bed of the truck for a bit?” Ethan asks.

I nod. “Sure.”

He lowers the tailgate and spreads out a blanket. I hop up the best I can, adjusting my dress as I settle in. The metal beneath me is cold, but I barely feel it. I lean back, tilting my head up.

“Wow,” I breathe. “It’s beautiful here.”

Ethan climbs in beside me, another blanket in hand. He spreads it over us, the weight of it pressing lightly against my legs, adding warmth to the air between us.

“You came prepared,” I say, glancing at him.

He smirks but doesn’t answer.

I settle into the silence, eyes tracing the sky. The stars are sharper, scattered like someone spilled diamonds across the darkness. I don’t know why, but I expected them to look different out here. Closer, maybe.

“I just realized I have no idea what I’m looking at,” I admit.

“Me either.” Ethan shifts slightly beside me. “It’s just nice to look at something that’s unexplainable.”

The quiet stretches, long enough that I shift beneath the blanket. Not uncomfortable, just thick. Charged, like we’re both waiting for something to break it.

I glance at him. He’s leaning back, legs stretched out, arms resting loosely at his sides. Like this is just another night.

But it doesn’t feel like just another night.

The silence sits heavier now. I feel it in my chest, pressing down, making my breath feel shallow. I tell myself it’s nothing, but I still shift slightly, my fingers toying with the edge of the blanket, my body tense in a way I don’t understand.

I glance at Ethan again, just for a second. But this time, he’s already looking at me.

His smirk fades, just slightly. No longer playful, more assessing.

Something low in my stomach tightens, heat unfurling slow and unshakable, pooling beneath my skin. I lick my lips, glancing away.

I need to break the silence.

“You sure you’re not some secret astronomy nerd?” I nudge him lightly with my elbow. “Because that was deep.”

Ethan grins but doesn’t look at me. “I have my moments.”

I roll my eyes, turning toward him. “Not even the North Star?”

“Vaguely familiar,” he says, voice low, amused.

“Cassiopeia?”

“Sounds like a fancy cocktail.”

I scoff. “Wow. You are truly hopeless.”

“I never claimed otherwise.” He finally turns, looking at me now. His gaze is steady, unreadable. Something about it makes my breath catch for half a second.

I arch an eyebrow, playing it off. “And here I thought you had layers.”

“Oh, I do.” His smirk deepens. “You just haven’t peeled them back yet.”

Heat spreads through me, quick and uninvited. My pulse jumps, my breath hitching slightly before I force it steady.

I lick my lips, suddenly too aware of the way he’s watching me. The teasing has shifted. The air is different, warmer.

“You keep looking at me,” Ethan says, his voice lower now. Almost lazy.

I shrug, tilting my chin up. “Maybe I like what I see.”

His smirk lingers, but his eyes drop slightly—like he’s just noticing something he hadn’t before.

The night isn’t peaceful anymore. It’s different. I don’t want to fight it. I don’t think I could if I tried.

Without giving myself the chance to back out or talk myself out of it, I lean in and kiss Ethan.

It’s supposed to be just a test, just curiosity. But the second our lips touch, everything shifts. I pull back, breathless, but Ethan doesn’t let me go. His hand slides behind my neck, fingers threading into my hair, pulling me back in. This kiss is different, deeper. There’s no hesitation or second guessing.

Something tight unravels inside me.

The teasing, the tension—we’ve been circling this moment all night. And now that we’re here, it crashes into me, fast, urgent, impossible to ignore.

The blanket slips off my shoulders as Ethan moves, his hands sliding down to my thighs. He grips my waist, pulling me closer, pressing me back against the truck bed.

His mouth trails along my jaw, his breath hot against my skin. My pulse pounds beneath his lips.

I don’t think. I just feel.

His body, his hands, the way he fits between my legs as I straddle him. Heat settles low in my stomach, thick and pulsing.

His name leaves my lips in a shaky breath, and that’s all it takes.

It’s the way his touch burns through me, the way my body reacts before my mind can catch up.

Ethan notices. He reads it instantly.

He stills, his fingers barely there against the lace of my underwear, his breath warm against my jaw.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

His voice is rough, thick with restraint. His hands don’t move away, but he pulls back slightly. Waiting.

I don’t want space.

I don’t want him to wait.

I grab his wrist, not to push him away—but to make sure he doesn’t let go.

His exhale is sharp and controlled, while his blue gaze stays locked on mine. His fingers flex under my grip before they slide higher, teasing, testing, tracing slow patterns along my inner thigh.

My breath falters.

I arch into him, my legs parting before I can think twice. I shouldn’t want this as badly as I do, I don’t even know his last name.

Ethan must feel the way I tremble because his lips brush against my ear, slow and deliberate.

“I’ve got you, Val.” His voice is deeper now, something dark curling around the edges, something I feel everywhere.

Then he moves, his fingers slipping beneath the lace, and I stop thinking altogether.

Ethan’s fingers brush against bare heat, and my whole body tenses. It’s instinct, a shock at the intimacy of it, but it’s not hesitation. It’s need.

He groans softly, his breath warm against my cheek as he moves again, fingertips gliding through the slickness pooling between my thighs.

"You're already so wet for me," he rasps, his voice low, thick, like he’s barely holding himself back. His fingers stroke deeper, slow and deliberate, sliding between my folds before circling my clit in a featherlight touch that has my breath catching in my throat.

I gasp, back arching as heat pulses low in my stomach. My hips jerk slightly, chasing the sensation, and Ethan chuckles, the sound dark and knowing.

"Right there?" His tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s memorizing every reaction.

I grip his shoulders, nodding because I can’t find words, not when he keeps moving, pressing deeper, rubbing slow, torturous circles against my most sensitive spot. The pleasure is sharp, consuming, something I can’t hold back.

"Relax, Val," he murmurs, his free hand sliding up my side, fingers pressing into my ribs just enough to ground me. His lips graze my ear, sending another shiver down my spine. "I’ve got you."

Then he moves lower, his fingers testing, stretching, slipping just inside, and my breath stutters, a moan breaking free before I can stop it.

Ethan stills, waiting, watching me.

I don’t pull away.

I don’t want him to stop.

I roll my hips, pressing into his touch, and that’s all it takes.

He curses softly, then moves again, filling me little by little, his fingers stroking, coaxing, learning me with every slow, careful movement.

And I come undone for him, right there, beneath the stars.

I can still feel the aftershocks pulsing through me, my body twitching as the last waves of pleasure fade into something warmer, heavier. My skin feels too hot, my breath unsteady, my legs still weak around his waist.

I should let the silence sit. Let him move. Let him take everything.

Instead, I open my mouth. "Before we go any further, I want to talk about this."

I shouldn’t. But I do.

Ethan tenses slightly, pulling back just enough to look at me. "About what?"

He’s still above me, still holding himself up, but I know—if I tell him to stop, he will.

I swallow hard, licking my lips. "I don’t have time for anything other than one night. That’s all this can be," I say, rushed, like if I don’t get it out fast enough, I won’t say it at all.

His smirk fades, just slightly. He studies me for a second, gaze unreadable, before his lips part. "One night?"

"One night," I say again, firmer this time.

He watches me for a second longer, like he’s considering something, before the smirk returns—slow, knowing. "I can do that."

Then his mouth is on mine again, kissing me deep, pulling me back into the heat, into the moment, into exactly where I want to be.

I hesitate. Just for a second. Then I push the thought away.

I decide not to tell him. He doesn’t need to know this is my first time. Because he’ll stop. He’ll hesitate.

And I don’t want him to. I want to keep going.

I watch as he shifts, his breath uneven, fingers moving to his belt. The soft clink of metal fills the quiet space between us, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of his zipper lowering.

My pulse hammers, heat rushing to my face, my throat tightening.

Ethan keeps his eyes on me, watching my reaction as he reaches into his back pocket. A small foil packet catches the faint glow of the stars.

He tears it open with his teeth, and my stomach clenches at the effortless movement, the quiet confidence in the way he handles it.

But when he pushes his jeans down just enough and wraps his hand around himself, I stop thinking altogether.

My breath catches, my thighs pressing together instinctively before he settles between them again, his body warm and solid against mine.

Ethan leans in, his mouth brushing against my ear, his voice rough with restraint.

"You good?" Ethan murmurs, voice low, eyes locked on mine.

I nod, maybe too fast. "Yeah. I’m good."

His smirk deepens, like he doesn’t quite believe me, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

"Yeah?" His fingers skim down my thigh, teasing, testing, as he leans in. "Prove it."

The challenge in his voice ignites something in me, something reckless.

I pull him down into a kiss, hard and desperate, trying to match the fire burning through me.

But Ethan takes control, his hand gripping my hip, his body pressing into mine, making me feel just how badly I’ve already lost.

He presses closer, his weight settling between my thighs, his body hot and heavy against mine. His breath is warm against my neck, his fingers gripping my hips as if to steady himself—or maybe to steady me.

I feel him right there, the tip of his length brushing against my entrance, teasing, testing. My entire body tenses in anticipation, a shiver racing down my spine.

He moves slowly, carefully, pressing forward just an inch, and my breath catches. The pressure is sharp, unfamiliar, foreign. My body instinctively clenches around him, resisting, unsure.

Ethan groans, his forehead pressing to mine, his fingers tightening on my waist.

He presses a lingering kiss to my jaw, his breath warm against my skin. "Relax, Val. Let me in." His voice is deep, rough, coaxing—not questioning, just guiding.

I exhale shakily, forcing myself to relax. I want this. I want him. But my body is still learning, still adjusting to something it’s never felt before.

He moves again—just a little deeper. The stretch burns, a slow, aching pull that makes me gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.

Then everything stops.

Ethan freezes.

Completely.

His muscles lock, his breathing sharp and uneven, his fingers flexing against my hips like he’s trying to process something he wasn’t expecting.

His forehead tilts against mine, voice strained. "Val… shit."

He doesn’t move. His grip on my hips tightens, his muscles locking up. Something shifts between us. I don’t know if it’s the way I fit against him or the way his breath catches, but I feel it—he does too.

I shift beneath him, rolling my hips, trying to take him deeper, trying to pull him back into the urgency we had seconds ago. The ache is sharp, stretching, but there’s something else creeping in beneath it—something hotter, heavier, twisting low in my stomach.

Ethan doesn’t let me.

His hands clamp down, holding me still. "You should’ve told me." His voice is rough, almost like a growl, not soft, not careful. Just frustrated.

I bite my lip, fingers digging into his arms, urging him on. "Well, there’s no time like the present."

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, jaw clenched. "This isn’t something you just do with someone you barely know."

I tighten my legs, pulling him closer, deeper. “I want this, Ethan. And I don’t waste time wanting things I don’t plan to have.”

I rock my hips, forcing more of him inside me, welcoming the sting, the overwhelming fullness, the way my body stretches to take him.

Ethan swears under his breath, his fingers twitching, his control slipping.

I drag my hands up his back, my nails pressing into his skin. "You stopping now?" My voice comes out breathy, taunting. "Or are you gonna fuck me like you were about to?"

His breath falters. His restraint cracks.

He mutters another curse, his grip tightening as he finally pushes in deeper, burying himself inside me completely. The stretch burns, and I gasp, my back arching beneath him, the pain twisting with something else—something raw and consuming.

Ethan groans low in his throat, head dipping to my shoulder. "You're fucking reckless."

"So are you," I breathe, rolling my hips against him.

His fingers flex on my thighs, and then he pulls back just enough to slam into me again, dragging a choked moan from my lips.

"You're gonna feel me for days," he mutters, voice thick, breath ragged.

I can’t wait.

Ethan’s pace stays steady, his grip firm as he moves inside me. My body is still trembling, oversensitive from release, but the heat doesn’t fade. It lingers, spreading slow and thick, something unfamiliar and all-consuming.

The pressure builds, sharp and unbearable, my breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. My nails dig into his back, my thighs trembling around his waist, the sensation pushing me toward something I don’t understand.

Ethan must feel it—the way I clench around him, the way I arch into his touch, the way my body begs for something I’ve never had before.

"That’s it," he rasps, voice rough, his mouth skimming my jaw. "Let it happen."

I don’t know how.

The tension keeps winding tighter, hotter, so sharp it almost aches—

And then it snaps.

A cry breaks from my lips as pleasure crashes through me, shattering everything in its path. Heat surges through my veins, so intense it leaves me shaking beneath him. My body clenches hard around his, waves of sensation rolling through me, endless, unstoppable.

Ethan groans, deep and guttural, his grip tightening as he thrusts into me harder, faster, his restraint slipping away. His breath stutters, rough and uneven, his muscles going rigid.

I feel it—the second he loses control.

A curse spills from his lips as his rhythm stutters, his forehead pressing against mine, his entire body tensing before he buries himself deep, groaning as he lets go.

The truck bed is hard beneath us, but neither of us notice.

There’s only the aftershocks pulsing through me, the way my body still trembles against his, the way my heart won’t slow down.

I don’t know what happens next.

I just know I don’t want to move.