4. Flint
four
Flint
I watch Hazel tremble as the aftershocks of her orgasm ripple through her body. Her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, her red curls wild around her flushed face. Something inside me shifts as I look at her—something deeper than just physical attraction.
"You okay?" I ask, straightening up and brushing the sawdust from my knees.
She nods, a shy smile playing on her lips. "More than okay."
I help her pull her jeans back up, my fingers lingering on her hips. I can't stop touching her, can't stop wanting to be close to her. It's like she's a magnet, and I'm helplessly drawn to her.
"Stay a while?" I ask, surprising myself with the question. Usually, I'm not one for the after-talk, preferring to keep things simple. But with Hazel, I want more than just the physical connection. I want to know her—really know her.
"I'd like that," she says, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. That little gesture is quickly becoming my favorite thing about her.
I lead her to the small break room in the back of Timber! It's nothing fancy—just a worn couch, a mini-fridge, and a coffee maker that's seen better days. But it's private, and right now, that's all that matters.
"Water?" I offer, pulling a bottle from the fridge.
"Please," she says, taking it gratefully. Our fingers brush during the exchange, and even that small touch sends electricity through me.
She settles onto the couch, and I sit beside her, close enough to feel her warmth but still giving her space. The silence between us is comfortable, not awkward, as we both catch our breath and process what just happened.
"So," I finally say, turning to face her. I need to think of something to talk about to keep my mind off my aching cock that I’ve been too much of a gentleman to mention. "What brought you to Timber! that first night? You don't exactly strike me as the axe-throwing type."
Hazel laughs, the sound light and musical. "I was supposed to be on a date. The guy stood me up."
"His loss, my gain," I say without thinking, and she blushes again.
"What about you?" she asks. "How does one become an axe-throwing coach?"
I lean back against the couch, crossing my arms over my chest. "I used to be a logger up north. My dad, his dad—we're a family of tree men. But I wanted something different, something that didn't involve being away from home for months at a time. Found this place, discovered I had a knack for teaching, and the rest is history."
She listens intently, her blue eyes never leaving my face. It's rare to find someone who truly listens these days, but Hazel does.
"You miss it? The logging?"
"Sometimes," I admit. "The smell of fresh-cut pine, the quiet of the forest at dawn. But this is better—meeting interesting people, teaching them something new. Meeting you."
Her cheeks flush again, and I can't help but reach out, tracing the line of her jaw with my thumb. Her skin is so soft, so warm beneath my touch.
"I like you, Hazel," I say, my voice low and rough. "And not just because of what just happened. There's something about you that pulls me in."
She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "I like you too, Flint. More than I probably should after knowing you for such a short time."
I smile, drawing her closer. "Time's just a number. Some connections don't need weeks or months to form."
"Is that what this is? A connection?" she asks, her eyes searching mine.
My answer is to kiss her, slow and deep, savoring the taste of her. She melts into me, her body soft and yielding against mine. I pull her onto my lap, her thighs straddling mine, bringing us face to face.
"Definitely a connection," I murmur against her lips.
Her hands find their way under my shirt, exploring the planes of my chest, tracing the muscles of my abdomen. I groan as her fingers brush against my nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my cock.
"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" I say, my voice strained.
She smiles, a newfound confidence in her eyes. "Good. That's exactly what I want to do."
I pull her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy blue bra that perfectly cradles her full breasts. My I draw her closer to me, savoring the warmth of her body against mine. The break room at Timber! feels like our own private sanctuary as I hold Hazel in my arms, our hearts still racing from the intensity of our connection.
"Beautiful," I whisper, leaning in to press a kiss to the swell of her breast. "Every inch of you is beautiful."
She whimpers, arching into my touch. I reach behind her, unclasping her bra, letting her breasts spill free. They're perfect—full and round, tipped with rosy nipples that beg for my attention.
"Fuck, Hazel," I groan, taking one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive peak. Her head falls back, a soft moan escaping her lips as I lavish attention on each breast in turn.
Her hips rock against mine with tentative, uncertain movements, but the friction is still enough to have my cock straining against my jeans. I grip her hips gently, guiding her, helping her find a rhythm that feels good for both of us.
"I want you," she breathes. "All of you."
Those words ignite something primal in me. I lift her carefully and carry her to the table in the corner, setting her down with reverence. I position myself between her legs, my fingers working at the button of her jeans.
"You sure?" I ask, studying her face carefully. There's desire there, unmistakable and intense, but also a vulnerability I hadn't noticed before.
She takes a deep breath. "Yes, I'm sure. But Flint... there's something I should tell you." Her cheeks flush deeper, beyond the pink of arousal. "I've never... I haven't..." She looks down, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. "This would be my first time."
The words hit me like a physical force. My breath catches as understanding dawns. Hazel has never been with anyone before. Something possessive and protective unfurls within me, a feeling so powerful it nearly brings me to my knees.
"Hazel," I say, my voice rougher than intended. I lift her chin gently, making her meet my gaze. "You're giving me something precious. Are you absolutely sure it's what you want?"
Her blue eyes, clear and steady despite her blush, hold mine. "I've never been more sure of anything. I want it to be you, Flint."
A wave of tenderness mixed with fierce possession washes over me. The thought that I would be her first—that no other man has touched her, known her in this most intimate way—makes my cock throb painfully. But it also fills me with a profound sense of responsibility.
"I'll take care of you," I promise, brushing my thumb across her cheek. "We'll go slow. If anything doesn't feel good, or if you want to stop for any reason, you tell me. Okay?"
She nods, her trust in me evident in every line of her body. "Okay."
I pull her jeans and panties down with careful movements, giving her time to change her mind. When she's finally naked before me, I take a moment just to look at her, flushed, wanting, utterly perfect.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I tell her, meaning every word. "And I'm honored that you chose me to be your first."
I free myself from my jeans, watching her eyes widen slightly as she takes in the sight of me. I see a flicker of nervousness cross her face, and I lean in to kiss her softly.
I position myself at her entrance, rubbing the head of my cock against her wetness, preparing her. She's incredibly wet, which will help, but I know I need to be gentle.
"This might hurt a little," I warn her softly. "I'll go as slow as I can."
I push forward with exquisite care, just the tip entering her. She gasps, her body tensing slightly, and I freeze immediately.
"Breathe," I encourage, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. "That's it. Such a good girl, Hazel. So perfect for me."
She relaxes at my praise, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily. "More," she whispers. "Please."
I press forward, inch by inch, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. The sensation of her tight heat enveloping me is almost too much to bear—she's so incredibly tight, her body virgin and untouched until this moment. Until me.
"You're doing so well," I praise, my voice strained with the effort of restraint. "Taking me so perfectly. My good, brave girl." I kiss her deeply, distracting her as I push through with one careful thrust until I’m fully inside of her.
Hazel gasps against my mouth, her nails digging into my shoulders.
"Are you okay?" I ask immediately, holding absolutely still inside her.
She nods, her breathing ragged. "Yes. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
I remain motionless for another moment, giving her body time to adjust to the intrusion. The knowledge that I'm the first and only man to be inside her, to feel her this way, sends a surge of possessiveness through me so strong it's almost dizzying.
"Mine," I find myself whispering against her throat. "You're mine now, Hazel."
"Yours," she agrees, her voice small but certain.
I begin to move with careful, shallow thrusts, watching her face transform as initial discomfort gives way to pleasure. Her legs wrap around my waist, drawing me deeper, and I groan at the sensation.
"That's it," I encourage as she begins to move with me, finding our rhythm. "You're taking me so well. So perfect, so tight around me."
Her responsive moan tells me she enjoys the praise as much as ever. I reach between us, finding her clit with my thumb, circling it gently.
"Oh!" she gasps, her inner walls clenching around me.
"Does that feel good?" I ask, though her reaction makes the answer obvious.
"Yes," she breathes. "So good."
I continue moving inside her while touching her where she needs it most. Her inexperienced body responds beautifully to every touch, every thrust, every word of praise.
"You were made for me," I tell her, the words spilling out from some deep, primal place. "Like your body was created just for mine."
She moans, her hips rising to meet my thrusts more eagerly now. "Flint, I feel... something's happening..."
"That's it, good girl," I encourage, increasing the pressure on her clit slightly. "Let go for me. Show me how good you feel."
Her orgasm takes her by surprise, her body arching off the table as waves of pleasure wash over her. The sight of her coming undone for the first time during sex, combined with the incredible sensation of her virgin walls pulsing around me, nearly pushes me over the edge. But I hold back, wanting to make this perfect for her.
As she comes down from her high, her eyes find mine, filled with wonder and something deeper that makes my chest tight.
"Was that okay?" she asks, uncertainty creeping into her voice.
The innocence of her question makes my heart clench. "That was beautiful," I assure her. "You're beautiful, Hazel. Perfect."
I'm still hard inside her, but I make no move to continue. "Do you want to stop? It's okay if you do."
She shakes her head. "No. I want... I want you to finish, too."
I begin moving again, slower than before, savoring the sensation of being the first man to experience her this way. The thought that I've claimed this part of her, that she's given me this precious gift, drives me closer to the edge.
"Hazel," I groan, feeling my control slipping. "I'm close. I should pull out—"
"No," she says, wrapping her legs tighter around me. "Stay. I want to feel all of you."
Her words shatter the last of my restraint. I thrust deep one final time, groaning her name as I come inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal way and painting her insides with my seed.
For a long moment, we stay connected, our breathing gradually slowing. I press gentle kisses to her face—her forehead, her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose, and finally, her lips.
"Are you okay?" I ask, searching her face for any sign of regret or pain.
Her smile is slow and radiant. "More than okay."
I help her down from the table, supporting her as her legs tremble slightly.
"Thank you," she says softly as I help her dress.
I pause, looking at her curiously. "For what?"
"For making my first time special. For being patient. For the way you looked at me..." She blushes. "Like I was the most precious thing you'd ever seen."
I cup her face in my hands, wanting her to understand. "You are precious, Hazel. And you chose to share this with me—" I shake my head, overwhelmed by emotion. "I can't even tell you what that means to me."
As we finish dressing, a new feeling settles over me—a mix of tenderness and fierce protection. I take her hand, bringing it to my lips.
"I have to start work soon, but I don’t want to let you go.” I suck in a breath. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night," I say. "A real date, not just axe-throwing and..." I gesture to the table, making her laugh.
"There’s nothing wrong with axe-throwing and…” She mocks my gesture, kissing my cheek. “But, yes, I'd love that," she replies, squeezing my hand.
As I walk her to her car, my arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, I realize that everything has changed. This woman, who trusted me with her body's first experience of intimacy, has somehow worked her way deep into my heart in a matter of days.
"Tomorrow, then," I say, leaning down to kiss her goodbye, trying to pour all my newfound feelings into the connection.
"Tomorrow," she echoes.
I watch her drive away, already counting the minutes until I'll see her again. I've had my share of sexual encounters before, but nothing like this. Nothing that left me feeling both fiercely possessive and utterly humbled at the same time.