Chapter 7
SEVEN
WILLA
The fire has burned low, casting long golden shadows across the cabin walls.
It’s late—past midnight, I think—but neither of us has moved to bed.
The sat phone calls are done, the evidence is safe in Colt’s locked drawer, and for the first time since I ran, I can breathe without the constant knot of fear in my chest. It’s almost over.
Tomorrow or the next day the roads will open, Hank Lawson will get the flash drive, and Matthew will finally be finished.
I should be thrilled.
Instead, my heart aches at the thought of leaving this place.
I like it here. The quiet. The way the wind sings through the pines instead of traffic.
The smell of woodsmoke and pine and Colt.
The way he looks at me like I’m something precious he didn’t know he was missing.
I don’t want to go back to my tiny apartment, to lesson plans and worried glances from June and the constant low hum of wondering if Matthew’s friends are still out there.
I want to stay right here, wrapped in flannel and safety and the man who makes my pulse race every time he walks into a room.
He’s on the couch now, long legs stretched out, one arm draped along the backrest, staring into the flames.
The gray Henley he’s wearing clings to every ridge of muscle, sleeves pushed up to his elbows.
His beard is a little longer after days without trimming, and his hair is tousled from running his hands through it while we talked strategy.
He looks tired, but still so strong, so steady.
So mine, even if he hasn’t said the words yet.
I want his hands on me tonight. Not gentle bandaging. Not careful restraint. I want all of him.
I pad across the room in nothing but his oversized flannel, the hem brushing the tops of my thighs. My panties are the only thing underneath—simple black cotton I washed in the sink earlier. I stop right in front of him, close enough that my knees bump his.
“Colt.”
His eyes lift slowly, green and dark in the firelight. They drag over my bare legs, the open collar of his shirt, the way my nipples have tightened against the soft fabric. His jaw flexes.
“Willa,” he says, voice low and rough. “You should be in bed.”
“I don’t want to be in bed alone.” I step between his spread knees, letting my fingers trail along the back of the couch until they brush his shoulder. “I want you to kiss me again. The way you did last night. Like you can’t stop yourself.”
His breath catches. “We talked about this. You’re still healing. You’re—”
“I’m fine.” I lean down, bracing one hand on his chest, feeling the steady thunder of his heart. “And I’m not scared anymore. Not of you. Not of this.” My lips hover just above his. “Please, Colt. Kiss me. I need it. I need you.”
He makes a low, broken sound—half groan, half curse—and then his control snaps.
One big hand cups the back of my head, the other grips my hip, and he pulls me down into his lap.
The kiss is fire—hot, hungry, no hesitation this time.
His tongue slides against mine, deep and possessive, tasting like the whiskey he sipped earlier.
I moan into his mouth, rocking against the hard ridge of him already straining behind his jeans.
“Fuck, darlin',” he growls against my lips. “You taste so damn sweet. Been driving me crazy all day in my shirt, looking like every filthy dream I’ve had since you showed up bleeding on my porch.”
I whimper, grinding down harder. “Then stop fighting it. I want you inside me, Colt. I’ve never… but I want my first time to be with you. Please.”
He pulls back just enough to search my face, eyes blazing. “You’re sure? Because once I get my hands on you, baby, I’m not gonna be gentle for long. I’ve been dying to stretch this tight little pussy around my cock.”
Heat floods my core. I nod frantically. “Yes. I’m sure. I trust you.”
That’s all it takes.
He stands with me in his arms like I weigh nothing, carrying me straight to the bedroom, and kicks the door shut. The big bed looms in the lamplight. He sets me down gently on the edge, then drops to his knees between my thighs.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, big hands sliding up my legs, pushing the flannel higher. “Already soaked through these little panties for me. Such a good girl, getting wet just thinking about Daddy’s cock.”
The word slips out—Daddy—and it sends a fresh rush of arousal through me. I like it. Love it, actually. I spread my legs wider in silent invitation.
He hooks his fingers in the waistband and drags my panties down, tossing them aside. Then he leans in and licks a slow, broad stripe up my center. I cry out, fingers fisting the quilts.
“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” he groans. “Sweet little virgin pussy dripping for me. Gonna get you nice and ready, baby. Gonna make this first time so good you’ll never want anyone else.”
He works me open with his tongue and fingers—slow, thorough, relentless. Two thick digits curl inside me, stroking that spot that makes my toes curl while his mouth sucks gently on my clit. I come hard and fast, thighs shaking around his head, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.
He doesn’t stop until I’m boneless and whimpering. Only then does he stand, stripping off his Henley and jeans in one fluid motion. His cock springs free—thick, long, flushed dark at the tip, already glistening. I swallow hard.
“Easy, darlin',” he soothes, wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly. “We’ll go slow. You tell me if it’s too much.”
He climbs over me, settling between my thighs, the heavy weight of him pressing me into the mattress. The head of his cock nudges my entrance, hot and slick from my release.
“Relax for me,” he murmurs against my neck, kissing the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “Let Daddy in. That’s it… good girl.”
He pushes forward inch by inch, stretching me open in the most delicious burn. I gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, but the pain melts fast into pleasure. He’s so big, so full, but he keeps talking me through it—dirty, sweet, perfect.
“Fuck, you’re tight. Gripping me like you were made for this cock. Look at you taking every inch like a good little girl. So proud of you, baby.”
When he bottoms out, we both groan. He stays still, forehead pressed to mine, letting me adjust.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“More,” I beg. “Move. Please.”
He starts slow—deep, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside me. Then faster, harder, the bed creaking beneath us. One hand slides under my ass, tilting my hips so he hits deeper. The other braces beside my head.
“That’s it, ride Daddy’s cock,” he growls. “Take what you need. This pussy’s mine now, Willa. Gonna fill you up every night if you’ll let me.”
I’m moaning, sobbing his name, legs wrapped tight around his waist. The coil in my belly winds tighter and tighter.
“Come for me, baby,” he commands, voice rough. “Come all over Daddy’s cock like the perfect girl you are.”
I shatter, clenching around him so hard my vision whites out. He follows right after, burying himself deep and groaning my name as he pulses inside me, hot and endless.
We stay locked together, breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. He kisses me soft and slow, then rolls us so I’m draped across his chest, still joined.
“Stay,” I whisper into his neck. “Don’t make me leave tomorrow. I like it here. With you.”
His arms tighten around me. “We’ll figure it out, darlin'. But you’re not going anywhere without me. Not anymore.”
I smile against his skin, heart full for the first time in forever.
The storm outside has finally gone quiet.
And inside, everything I never knew I needed has just begun.