Chapter 5
Nova
Dinner was delicious. And we kissed.
Somehow, it doesn’t feel awkward after. Just quiet. Warm. Like something shifted between us, and neither of us is ready to name it yet.
We end up on the floor, playing with Nugget, who seems determined to prove he’s the main character of the entire weekend.
He barks. He zooms. He drops a soggy stuffed moose in Maverick’s lap, then mine, then back again like we’re not playing fast enough.
I laugh until my stomach hurts.
Eventually, Maverick stands and stretches. “I’ll take him to his room. Then I’ll crash out here.”
“Okay,” I say, even though the word tastes like disappointment.
I move to the couch. He disappears down the hallway with Nugget and comes back a minute later, alone this time.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod.
He hesitates for a second, then sinks onto the couch beside me. Close. Close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him.
I glance at him, heart fluttering. The firelight paints shadows across his face, sharp and soft all at once. He looks too good, too real, too solid beside me. Like safety in human form.
“So…” I say lightly, trying not to sound breathless. “Does the one-weekend deal include you?”
His head turns slowly.
I try to laugh it off. “I’m joking.”
“I’m not,” he says.
That shuts me up.
“I’m not part of the deal,” he goes on, voice low, steady. “But I want to be. If you want me.”
My breath catches. My heart pounds against my ribs like it wants out.
He’s not teasing. He’s not playing. He’s looking at me like I matter. Like he means every word.
“I do,” I whisper.
That’s all it takes.
He reaches for me like I’m something breakable. One hand cups the back of my neck. The other slides around my waist, pulling me closer, firm and warm and careful.
Then he kisses me again.
And this time, it’s not sweet.
It’s slow. Deep. Hungry.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes the whole world drop away. That makes my body lean in and say yes without waiting for permission.
At some point, we make it to the bedroom.
I don’t even remember crossing the hall, just the sound of the door closing.
He backs me toward the bed, his mouth still on mine, his hands steady as they slide down my arms and find the hem of my shirt.
Then he stills.
“You sure about this?” he asks, voice thick, breath warm against my jaw. “You can tell me no.”
I nod, then say it out loud so he hears it for real. “Yes. I’m sure.”
His exhale is long. Like he’s been holding his breath since the first look we shared.
My shirt comes off slowly. Hands tracing skin like every inch matters.
But when his fingers find the waistband of my leggings, I pause.
“I should tell you something,” I murmur, heart racing. “I’ve never… I haven’t…”
His head lifts instantly. His eyes find mine, sharp and clear.
“You’re a virgin?” he asks, voice soft but direct.
I nod, pulse fluttering.
Something in his face changes. His whole body shifts. Still burning with want, but now anchored in something deeper. Something careful.
He presses his forehead to mine.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Then tonight is about you.”
His words hang in the air between us, warm and reassuring. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but not in a bad way.
More like he's wrapping me in this quiet strength that makes my nerves settle, even as heat pools low in my belly.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with need.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, his thumb brushing my cheek. “Anytime.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I will.”
His hands return to my leggings, easing them down my hips slowly. The fabric slides over my curves. Cool air kisses my skin, making me shiver, but his gaze follows every inch he uncovers, appreciative and steady.
No rush. No pressure. Just him, taking me in.
He stands, shedding his own shirt in one fluid motion, revealing the broad planes of his chest, dusted with dark hair that trails down to his waistband. My eyes trace the lines of his muscles, the way they shift as he moves. His scars, his tattoos.
He’s solid, real, and the sight of him makes my core clench with anticipation.
He leans in, capturing my mouth again in one of those slow, deep kisses that unravel me. His tongue strokes mine, hungry, tasting like promise.
I arch into him, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss breaks, and he trails his lips down my neck, nipping lightly at the skin, then soothing with his tongue.
Lower still, to the edge of my bra, where he presses open-mouthed kisses along the curve of my breast.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs against me, his breath hot.
His fingers work the clasp free, and the bra falls away, leaving my heavy breasts bare.
My nipples harden instantly in the firelit air, and he doesn’t hesitate—his mouth closes over one peak, sucking gently, his tongue flicking in slow circles.
A gasp escapes me, pleasure shooting straight to my pussy. I’m already wet, aching, but he takes his time, lavishing attention on first one breast, then the other, his hands kneading the soft flesh, thumbs rolling my nipples when his mouth moves away.
“Maverick,” I breathe, my hips shifting restlessly.
He looks up, eyes locked on mine, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve got you.”
His hands hook into my panties next, sliding them down my thighs, over my knees, until I’m completely bare to him.
My legs part instinctively, revealing the slick folds of my pussy, untouched and eager. He settles lower, his shoulders nudging my thighs wider, and I feel the warmth of his breath against my core.
“Relax,” he says softly, kissing the inside of my thigh, then higher, closer. His fingers part me gently, exposing my clit, and I whimper at the vulnerability of it.
Then his tongue touches me.
It’s a slow, flat lick from my entrance up to my clit, tasting me fully. The sensation is electric, making my back bow off the bed. He groans against me, the vibration humming through my skin, and does it again, deeper this time, his tongue pressing into my folds.
“Oh god,” I moan, my hands fisting the sheets.
He’s careful, attentive, starting with broad strokes that build the heat without overwhelming.
His mouth seals over my clit, sucking lightly, then releasing with a swirl of his tongue. My hips buck, but he holds them steady with his strong hands.
He alternates—licking, sucking, then dipping lower to thrust his tongue inside me, fucking me with it in shallow, teasing motions.
I’m dripping now, my arousal coating his chin, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t rush. Every swirl, every pull of his lips is measured, drawing out my pleasure until I’m trembling.
“Please,” I gasp, not even sure what I’m begging for. More. Everything.
He hums in response, the sound sending fresh sparks through me, and slides a finger along my slit, gathering my wetness before pressing it slowly inside.
Just one, careful and shallow, letting me adjust to the stretch.
I’m tight, unused to this, but the fullness mixes with the heat of his mouth, and I clench around him instinctively.
“Good girl,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to watch my face.
His blue eyes are intense, focused on every twitch, every breath. Then he adds a second finger, while his tongue laps at my clit again.
The pressure builds, coiling tight in my belly. My thighs quake around his head, my body arching as waves of sensation crash over me.
He curls his fingers inside, finding that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids, and sucks harder on my clit. I come undone with a cry, my pussy pulsing around his fingers, flooding his mouth with my release.
He doesn’t stop, licking me through it softly, drawing out every shudder until I’m limp and panting.
He rises then, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze never leaving mine. His pants are tented, his cock straining against the fabric, but he waits, giving me a moment to catch my breath.
“You okay?” he asks, voice rough with his own need.
I nod, reaching for him. “More than okay. I want you inside me.”
He sheds the rest of his clothes quickly, his cock springing free. Thick, hard, the head glistening.
He rubs the tip along my slick entrance.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, pressing a slow, deep kiss to my lips. I taste myself on him, salty and intimate.
He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me around his girth. It burns a little at first, the pressure intense, but he’s so careful, pausing to let me breathe, to kiss me hungrily until the discomfort fades into fullness.
Halfway in, he stills, forehead against mine. “You feel incredible,” he groans.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Keep going.”
He does, sinking fully until he’s buried to the hilt, my pussy clenching around him. We both moan, the connection overwhelming. He starts to move then, shallow thrusts at first, building a rhythm that’s steady and deep.
His hands roam my body, tracing the dip of my waist, gripping my hips as he drives into me. Sweat slicks our skin, and our kisses turn frantic, slow turns to desperate, tongues tangling as he fucks me harder.
The bed creaks under us, my curves bouncing with each thrust, my nails digging into his back. Pleasure rebuilds fast, sharper now with him filling me completely.
“Maverick,” I gasp against his mouth.
“I know,” he grunts, his pace quickening, hips snapping forward. “Come with me.”
He reaches between us, thumb circling my clit, and it’s enough to tip me over. I shatter around him, crying out as my pussy milks his cock. He follows seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, his body tensing as he comes, filling me with hot pulses.
We collapse together, tangled and spent.
Tonight is about me. About us.