Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
SOREN
She’s stretched across the table, gorgeous as fuck. And that ever-present hunger I’ve been tucking between every sleepless night and aching pause that has lived in me for a year, whispering: keep your distance, but don’t let her get away.
Well, that hunger ain’t got shit to say today.
Ava’s skin is honey-warmed and haloed in firelight.
Defenses? Fallen.
Deflection? Stripped away.
Distance? Obliterated.
Just Ava.
Me.
Nothing left in our way.
I drag my palms over her bare thighs, gaze traveling up the soft slope of her stomach to where her breasts rise and fall with every breath. They’re full and begging for my mouth.
Ava’s lips are parted, hair a wild halo across the table. She doesn’t look scared. No, she’s temptation laid bare, ready to be devoured.
Tearing apart another piece of cinnamon roll, I let it melt slightly between my fingers before trailing it between her breasts, letting icing drip down the centerline of her body like I’m glazing a dessert I’ve waited so fucking long to taste.
My mouth follows, licking every drop from her skin as penance and praise.
“You don’t know how beautiful you are,” I whisper against her belly, tracing her skin with my mouth. “You’re mine right now because you let yourself want me. You stopped running. You let go. That’s the sexiest fucking thing, Bells.”
A ragged breath escapes Ava’s lips. Her hands slide into my hair, tugging enough to make my cock jump. My control is fraying, but I’m not rushing.
I kiss her. Hard. Deep. Consuming. She tastes like cinnamon and surrender, and when I pull back, her lips are slick, her pupils blown wide, chest rising fast.
“You ready to serve me breakfast, baby?” My fingers trail between her legs, taunting her. “I’m fucking starving.”
Dragging a piece of the roll down lower, I rest it above the place I’m about to claim.
Ava hasn’t said anything. Her throat works, presumably swallowing around words that won’t come out.
One hand lifts, falters halfway, her fingers curl against her palm.
Her breathing’s quick but uneven, and her eyes—those soft, searching autumn-colored eyes—keep flitting between mine and the space somewhere past my shoulder, like she’s not sure which version of herself she’s supposed to be right now.
It’s not rejection. It’s hesitation. She’s still learning how to stand still in the light.
“Stay in this moment with me.” I kneel. “Don’t let the ghosts pull you back.”
One hand grips her thigh, the other spreads her open. And then—
My tongue licks straight up her center.
Her back bows instantly, a heavy gasp tearing out of her throat, my name swimming around it like a prayer she didn’t mean to speak. The sound spears straight through me, settling brutally and relentlessly.
I take my time, learning her, teasing the edges, pressing deeper, flicking where I know she can’t resist.
Ava tastes like sugary icing and something all her own, sweet and addictive, and I know I’ll never get enough.
With a growl, my tongue strokes her pussy once, slowly, making her shake, then circles where she’s trembling. My rhythm builds—flick, press, swirl—until her hips twitch and chase me, greedy for more.
Pulling back to make her whimper, Ava begs me to come back. “No, Soren, please don’t stop.”
Lifting my gaze, chin slick, I drag my thumb in maddening circles just shy of where she’s throbbing. “You beg so sweet.”
I flatten my tongue and lap at her needy cunt.
Ava’s dripping, and every stroke tastes like a sin I’d die to keep committing.
I dip, torturing her entrance, fuck her shallow with my tongue before pulling back up to suck her clit into my mouth.
Her cry rips through the air, desperate, and my cock throbs so hard it hurts.
“Yes, baby, sing for me,” I moan against her, the vibration setting her off again, her thighs clamping around my head as though she’ll never let me go. A deep and guttural groan slips out of me as I lick relentless strokes over her soaking wet heat.
“Oh my, God, Soren.” Ava’s writhing on the table, muttering curse words and pleading in the same breath.
My gaze holds her stare as I wrap my lips around the little bundle of nerves that’s making her fall apart. Her thighs try to close. Not fucking happening. I pin her open and feast.
“You’re mine right now,” I thunder against her skin. “This body. Those sounds. This flavor. Fucking mine, Bells.”
Ava cries out again, hips jerking, thighs trembling, breath shattering, and—
She comes on my mouth.
On the table.
Covered in icing.
Snowed the fuck in.
And I’m not done.
Not even close.
Ava’s breath stutters in and out as I rise, licking her from my lips like I cleaned the plate—I mean, really, I fucking did, and it was the most delicious meal.
Her thighs are still parted for me, slick and quivering. She’s watching me, unsure whether to beg for mercy or more.
Both are welcome.
I run my hands up the insides of her thighs, relishing in how her body twitches beneath my touch—hypersensitive and raw.
“I could keep you here, on this table, all day.” My cock strains against my waistband. “Laid out. Dripping. Shaking. You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
Ava’s only answer is a whimper.
I lean over her, bracing my forearms on either side of her head, my voice a rasp now. “I’d bury myself inside you right now, Bells—let that needy pussy swallow my cock until nothing else exists. But I didn’t plan for this, and I don’t have protection.”
Ava’s eyes widen, and she shifts beneath me, her gaze darting anywhere but mine. One hand lifts. She’s about to tuck her hair behind her ear, but then drops it uselessly to her side.
“I don’t have any either,” she says, the words barely above a whisper. “I… don’t have sex. I mean, I haven’t had sex.”
“You’ve never had sex,” I blurt out before I can process what she said.
“No, I have,” she quickly recovers. “But it’s been… awhile.”
My heart splinters. For all her confidence and quips, these innocent moments, in her cabin, are the truest thing she’s ever given me. Honesty draped in insecurity. And she’s trusting me to hold it gently.
My hands frame her flushed face. “We don’t have to, Ava.” My voice changes to a warm, husky tone. “I could spend the entire snowstorm between your thighs and making you come over and over, and be totally fine.”
Those honey-gold eyes dive into mine, swimming with emotion.
I smile. “Don’t need anything else. Just you.”
Ava laughs, but it catches in her throat. Her expression turns serious. “I want you. All of you. I’m here, doing this, and I want it all.”
That stills me.
Completely.
“You sure?” My cock is pulsing like this is my first time, because in a way, it is.
She hesitates, then nods. “Yes.”
My thumbs brush across her cheeks. “I’m clean. It’s been over a year since I’ve had a partner.” My eyes lock with hers. “Despite the reputation you’ve got swirling in that pretty head of yours, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Ava exhales. I can see the walls drop all the way down.
This is happening.
We are happening.
She’s not running.
She’s choosing me.
And fuck if I won’t make every second of it count.
Reaching down into my pajama pants, I free my cock, and the rush of cool air against overheated skin makes me hiss through my teeth.
I’m heavy and pulsing in my hand. My body’s been waiting for this release all damn night.
When my palm closes around the length, the jolt that tears through me nearly buckles my knees.
Every stroke drags a tight ache up my spine.
I squeeze hard as a reminder of just how badly I want her.
Ava’s gaze drops. She gasps. “That’s not going to fit.”
The laugh I let out is dark and rough as my thumb smears precum over the head. “Oh, it’ll fit, Bells,” I say confidently. “Your pussy was made to take me. She’s just been waiting for the chance to prove it.”
Ava’s head tilts as I continue stroking—measured and slick, catching her eyes as I do it. Yeah, baby. Watch me.
Her lips part right before she licks them.
“Look at you.” My grip tightens as I pump from base to tip. “So fucking hungry for it. You haven’t even had me inside you yet, and you’re soaking wet again, aren’t you?”
She doesn’t deny it.
My fist works one last stroke before I release myself and clamp down on her hips. With one quick tug, I drag her ass to the very edge of the table, her thighs opening wider for me like instinct. “So fucking ready for me.” My fingers dig into soft flesh as I hold her in place.
I position myself, thick and throbbing, and drag the head slowly through her slick heat. Ava’s body jolts, a broken curse tumbling from her mouth as I slide against her clit and down again, taunting her with the promise of everything she’s silently begging for right now.
“You want it?”
“Quit teasing me.” Her hips lift to meet me.
“Never.” The crown of my dick slides through her opening, earning a moan from her. “Every inch of this is yours, Bells. Let yourself want it. And now—” My words halt when I push in.
Slow.
Deep.
Endless.
Holy shit.
My brain flatlines. Every muscle in my body tenses as her warmth envelopes me—wet, tight, really fucking tight—and for a split second, I forget how to breathe.
Jesus. Mary. All the damn apostles.
She’s so goddamn tight I feel baptized. I’m gripping the edge of the table to keep from collapsing on top of her as a man who’s just seen God and blacked out from the holiness.
Shit, I’ve barely moved an inch.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss through my teeth. “You’re—” I break off with a groan. I’m desperately trying to keep my shit together. But with how tight she is and me feeling her bare, it’s damn near impossible. “Your pussy is going to murder me, Bells.”
Ava moans beneath me, arching her hips, trying to take more of me, and nope, this is officially the hardest thing I’ve ever done—holding back.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so good, baby.” I brace a hand beside her head while the other grips her hip. “You feel that stretch?”
She nods, whimpering.
“That’s me, Bells. All of me. Just like you wanted, but if I don’t start moving soon, I’m gonna come like a goddamn virgin.”
“Then fucking move,” she breathes.
Deep. Possessive. Thrusts meant to mark a woman from the inside out.
The table creaks beneath us, the fire crackles in the corner, and the snow keeps falling, blanketing the world outside.
I hope to God it never stops. Let the roads shut down. Let the power go out. Let the whole damn world freeze over, because I want to spend the rest of my life buried inside this woman.
Ava moves against me, crying out my name, and the sound creeps down deep into my bones.
This is more than sex.
It’s deeper. Wilder.
Beautiful.
This is forever. It’s already written into the stars, and fuck, I’m gone. Lost in the woman who undid me with a look, dismantled me with a kiss, and is now holding every part of me without even realizing it.
Out there, the world is buried in snow.
But in here, it’s her. Me. And every filthy, worshipful thing I’ve been dying to give her.
“Harder,” she pleads. “Fuck me deep.”
All reserve inside me breaks. My pace goes brutal—months of tension, lust, and unsaid words, exploding into every thrust. Ava arches, clutches at me like I’m her tether to this earth, and I give her everything. Faster. Punishing.
The table beneath us groans, legs squealing against the floor, and then—crack. Splinters. We crash down in a heap of limbs and breathless curses, still moving, still chasing it, until the world shatters right along with us.
Ava screams out, her climax ripping through her in waves, and I follow, guttural and crude, pouring everything I’ve been holding back into the feral ruin of us. Neither of us stops, not until the aftershocks leave us trembling and trapped among broken wood and scattered plates.
Her hair’s a wild halo across the destruction, her chest heaving, her lips swollen.
I kiss her messy, still buried inside her, and laugh hoarsely against her mouth.“Oops. Guess that table couldn’t handle what I’ve been holding back for a year. If this is what happens when I finally get to touch you, imagine what’s coming next.”
Ava giggles, covering her face with her hand. “I’m not sure my house will survive you.”