Chapter 4
Shane
I told Walt that we were going into town for supplies and he smiled vaguely and said he was going to start decorating for the Halloween ball.
My truck was parked behind what was once the maintenance shed.
It was a beat-up Ford that had seen better decades but could handle the mountain roads.
I'd reinforced the undercarriage myself, added a winch, upgraded the suspension.
You didn't survive Vermont winters without the right equipment.
"Jesus," Raven muttered, hauling herself up into the passenger seat. "This thing is as big as you are."
"Necessary up here." I started the engine, which caught on the second try. "The roads to my place aren't exactly maintained by the state."
"Your place." She said it like she was testing the words. "How far?"
"Fifteen minutes if we don't hit a washout."
She was quiet as I navigated the first turn, then: "Your hands are shaking."
They were. Gripping the steering wheel like it might escape, knuckles white with the effort of not pulling over and taking her right here in the truck.
"I know," I admitted.
"Second thoughts?"
"No." The word came out harsher than intended. "The opposite. I'm trying not to—" I cut myself off, jaw clenching.
"Not to what?"
"Not to pull over and fuck you in the bed of this truck like an animal." I glanced at her, saw her pupils dilate. "That's what you do to me. Make me feel like something wild. Dangerous. Out of control."
"Good," she said, and she rubbed her hand up and down my thigh.
I almost drove off the road. "Raven," I warned.
"Eyes on the road, mountain man." But her hand stayed where it was, a brand burning through my jeans.
The access road to my property was barely more than a game trail, overgrown with brambles that scratched at the truck's paint. Most people would have turned back by now, assumed it led nowhere. That was the point.
"There," I said as we crested the final rise.
The cabin sat in a natural meadow, the creek running along its eastern edge, catching the late afternoon light like hammered copper. The A-frame's windows reflected the surrounding forest, making it seem like part of the landscape.
"Holy shit," Raven breathed. "This is yours?"
I parked. "It all started with just a camp trailer and a dream of somewhere quiet."
"It's certainly remote." She was already climbing out. She looked right here, her dark clothes and purple-streaked hair somehow fitting against the wild backdrop. "You can't even see another building from here."
"That's the point." Inside, I disabled the alarm system and flicked on lights. The main room opened up around us—twenty-foot ceilings, exposed beams I'd salvaged from an old barn. The kitchen was to the left, bedroom loft above, bathroom tucked behind the stairs.
"This is not what I expected," Raven said, running her fingers along the granite countertop.
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know. Maybe a cave.”
"Mountain man, not a cave man." I checked my messages. All quiet. "Although there are similarities."
"Hmmm," she said, moving closer. "I need a shower.”
"I need one too."
The words hung between us, heavy with possibility. I could offer her the guest bathroom—I had one, barely used but functional. Could give her privacy and space and time to reconsider what we were about to do.
"It's big enough for two."
"The shower?"
I moved toward the bathroom, pausing at the doorway. "You coming?"
She followed without hesitation.
The bathroom was another indulgence—heated floors, a soaking tub, and a walk-in shower with rain heads and enough room that I didn't have to duck or squeeze. I'd tiled it myself with slate from a local quarry, dark gray that looked black when wet.
I turned on the water, letting it get hot while we stood there, fully clothed, staring at each other.
"I should probably mention," Raven said, "that I'm on birth control. And clean. Got tested after my last relationship ended eight months ago, haven't been with anyone since."
"I'm clean too. Get tested regular because of work." I pulled my shirt over my head, watched her eyes track across my chest. "And there hasn't been anyone in over a year."
"A year?"
"Small town. Limited options. And most people find me..." I searched for the word.
"Intense?"
"That's one way to put it."
She started unbuttoning her cargo pants, and I forgot how to breathe. "I like intense."
Steam was filling the room now, fogging the mirror, making everything dreamlike. I stripped off the rest of my clothes, noting how she bit her lip when she saw me fully naked. Yeah, everything about me was proportional.
She pulled her shirt off, revealing a black bra that did incredible things to her curves. Then her pants, then her underwear, and Christ, she was perfect. Soft where I was hard, curves where I was angles, delicate where I was rough.
"You're staring," she said.
"You're beautiful."
"I'm a mess. I've been sleeping in an abandoned building, and I probably smell like—"
I cut her off by lifting her off her feet and carrying her into the shower. The hot water hit us both, and she gasped against my shoulder.
"Put me down," she laughed, but her arms tightened around my neck.
"In a minute." I adjusted the water temperature with one hand, keeping her pressed against me with the other. "I like you right where you are."
She was so small against me, her body fitting perfectly in my arms. I set her down slowly, letting her slide down my body, hyperaware of every inch of contact. The water cascaded over us, and I watched, mesmerized, as rivulets ran down her pale skin.
"You're looking at me like..." she started, then stopped.
"Like what?"
"Like you want to devour me."
"I do." I reached for the shampoo, pouring some into my palm. "Turn around."
She did, and I worked the shampoo through her hair. My fingers massaged her scalp, and she made a sound that shook me.
"God, your hands," she moaned, leaning back into me.
"What about them?"
"They're so careful. So gentle. But they're huge and I keep thinking about—" She cut herself off.
"Tell me." I rinsed her hair, then reached for the conditioner. "Tell me what you're thinking."
"I keep thinking about how they'll feel on me. In me,” she sighed. "I've never been with someone your size. Everything about you is..."
"Too much?"
She turned to face me, water droplets clinging to her eyelashes. "Dreamy."
I laughed. "More like a nightmare."
"No." She reached for the body wash, squirting it into her hands. “Not even close.” She started washing my chest, her touch exploratory, learning the planes and angles of my body. When her fingers traced the scar along my ribs—a souvenir from a bad call two years ago—I caught her wrist.
"Bicycle accident," she said, showing me a scar on her hip I hadn't noticed before. "Twelve years old. Thought I could fly."
"Kitchen knife," I countered, pointing to a mark on my forearm. "Foster home number three. Wasn't watching where I was cutting."
"Lies," she said. "That's too precise to be accidental."
I didn't deny it. Couldn't. Not when she was looking at me with those dark eyes that saw everything.
"We all have our ways of coping," she said, pressing a kiss to the scar. "Some of us explore abandoned buildings. Some of us save people. Some of us need physical pain to drown out the emotional kind."
"That was a long time ago."
"But the urge is still there sometimes, isn't it?" Her hands moved lower, soaping my stomach. "When the pressure builds and you can't save everyone and the world feels like it's crushing you."
"How do you—"
"Because I feel it too. The weight. The darkness.
The need to do something, anything, to make it stop.
" She was washing my hips now, deliberately avoiding where I desperately wanted her touch.
"That's why I climb through broken windows and trespass on private property.
The adrenaline drowns out everything else. "
"And now?"
"Now I have something better than adrenaline." She finally wrapped her soapy hand around my cock, and I braced myself against the shower wall. "I have you."
"Raven—" Her name came out as a growl.
"Let me," she said, stroking slowly, learning what made me shake. "Let me take care of you for once."
"That's not—I'm supposed to—"
"Why? Because you're bigger? Because you're the man?" She increased her pace slightly, and my hips bucked involuntarily. "Maybe I want to watch you fall apart. Maybe I want to see what you look like when you're not in control."
"Fuck," I groaned, my hand coming up to tangle in her wet hair.
"That's it," she encouraged. "Let go for me."
But I couldn't. Not like this. Not without giving her pleasure first. "Spread your legs for me," I commanded softly.
She did, bracing herself against the wall, and I groaned at the sight of her. Pink and perfect and already swollen with need. I started slow, just my fingers at first, tracing her folds, learning what made her gasp.
slid one finger inside her, and we both moaned. She was tight, so tight, and the thought of how she'd feel around my cock made me dizzy. I added a second finger, curling them to find that spot that made her legs shake.
"There," she gasped. "Right there, don't stop—"
I worked her with my fingers while my thumb found her clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make her writhe. Her hands tangled in my wet hair, holding me close as I kissed her inner thighs, her hip bones, everywhere but where she wanted my mouth.
"Shane, I need—I need—"
"Tell me," I commanded, adding a third finger, stretching her carefully. "Tell me exactly what you need."
"Your mouth," she whimpered. "Please, I need your mouth on me."
The water cascaded over both of us as I sank to my knees on the hard shower floor.
I kissed the inside of her thigh, then the other, taking my time.
I replaced my thumb with my tongue, and the sound she made echoed off the shower walls.
She tasted like heaven—sweet and perfect and mine.
I devoted myself to her pleasure, learning every response, what made her moan, what made her shake, what made her pull my hair hard enough to hurt in the best way.
"Oh god," she gasped as I sucked on her clit while curling my fingers inside her. "Shane, I'm going to—"
"Come for me," I growled against her. "I want to taste you when you come."
She shattered with a cry, her whole body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over her. I worked her through it, gentling my touch as she became too sensitive, then stood slowly, keeping her pinned against the wall as her legs shook.
"I need you inside me," she said.
I lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around my waist as I pressed her against the tiles. The position put us at exactly the right height, and she gasped as she felt me pressed against her entrance.
She rolled her hips to take just the tip of me inside. We both groaned at the sensation. "I want you. All of you."
I entered her slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. The stretch was intense. Her eyes widened. Her breath caught. I paused when I was halfway in, giving her time to adjust.
"You okay?"
"Yes," she breathed, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Just you're so big."
"I’ll go slow.” I pushed in deeper, feeling her clutch and spasm around my cock. “You’re going to take every bit of me.” Slow was torture. Slow was heaven. Inch by inch, I pressed deeper until I was fully inside her. We stayed there for a moment, both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
"You feel like you were made for me."
"Move," she grunted. "Please, Shane, I need you to move."
I started with shallow thrusts, barely pulling out before pressing back in, letting her body adjust to my size. As she relaxed, as pleasure overtook the initial stretch, I gradually increased my pace and depth.
"Yes," she moaned. "Just like that."
The water was starting to cool, but neither of us cared. I was lost in the feeling of her—tight and wet and perfect around me. She met me thrust for thrust, her hips rolling in a rhythm that drove me wild.
"Touch yourself," I commanded. "I want to feel you come around me."
Her hand moved between us, fingers finding her clit, and the change was immediate. She tightened around me, her breathing becoming erratic.
"That's it," I encouraged. "Let go for me. I've got you."
"Shane," she gasped, her movements becoming frantic. "I'm so close—"
"Come for me, Raven. Now."
She came with a cry, her whole body clenching around me as waves of pleasure crashed over her. The feeling of her coming around my cock, the sight of her lost in ecstasy, pushed me over the edge.