6. Flint
six
Flint
I wake up with Hazel curled against me, her red curls spread across my pillow like copper flames. Something tightens in my chest as I watch her sleep, her face peaceful in the early morning light. It's only been a few days since she walked into Timber!, but already I can't imagine my life without her.
I carefully slip out of bed, trying not to wake her. She makes a small sound of protest, burying her face deeper into my pillow. I smile, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder before heading to the kitchen.
Coffee is brewing when I hear soft footsteps. Hazel appears wrapped in my flannel shirt, the hem reaching mid-thigh. My breath catches at the sight of her, sleep-rumpled and perfect.
"Morning," she says, yawning.
"Morning, beautiful." I hand her coffee with a heavy splash of cream, just as I've noticed she likes it. "Sleep well?"
"Better than I have in years," she admits with a shy smile.
We move around each other with an ease that feels like we've been doing this for years. I make breakfast while Hazel watches with those observant blue eyes.
"What?" I ask, catching her thoughtful gaze.
"I was just thinking how comfortable this feels. Being here with you." she says.
"I was thinking the same thing. It's like you fit here. With me."
Her cheeks flush that delicious pink I'm growing addicted to. "Is that weird? That it feels so natural already?"
"Not weird. Rare. Special."
I kiss her then, savoring the warmth of her lips. She melts into me, arms winding around my neck.
The smoke alarm interrupts us, blaring as the bacon begins to burn. We break apart, laughing as I rush to save breakfast.
"Maybe I'm a distraction in the kitchen," Hazel teases.
"A distraction I'll happily accept," I reply.
After breakfast, we sit on my porch, enjoying the last of the summer heat before winter closes in. She borrows one of my t-shirts, pressing the fabric to her nose. "It smells like you."
The simple gesture tugs at something primal within me—seeing her in my clothes, surrounded by my scent. It's possessive in a way I've never felt before, but it feels right.
When evening comes, I press Hazel against the wall, my hands exploring the curves I've been thinking about all day. The heat between us builds instantly, like kindling touched by flame.
"I need you," I murmur against the sensitive skin of her neck, trailing kisses down to the hollow of her throat.
She moans, her head falling back to grant me better access. "Yes," she breathes, fingers threading through my hair. "Please, Flint."
I lift her, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist, and carry her to the bedroom. The lamplight bathes her skin in a warm glow as I lay her gently on my bed. I take my time undressing her, savoring each new revelation of skin, pressing reverent kisses along her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, and the soft curve of her stomach.
"Beautiful," I praise as I slide her jeans down her legs. "So incredibly beautiful, Hazel."
Her body responds to my words as much as my touch, her skin flushing pink.
"You like it when I tell you how perfect you are," I say. "How good you are for me. How much I want you."
"Yes," she admits, her cheeks coloring deeper.
An idea forms as I drink in the sight of her, naked and trusting on my bed. I reach for one of my flannel shirts draped over the bedpost, the soft, worn fabric bunched in my hands.
"Do you trust me?" I ask, my voice rough.
Hazel's eyes meet mine without hesitation. "Completely."
The simple affirmation makes my chest tight.
I gently lift her wrists above her head, binding them together with the soft flannel, securing the ends to my wooden headboard. The knots are simple—she could free herself if needed—but the symbolism of her surrender makes my cock throb with need.
"You're a vision," I tell her, voice strained with desire. "Spread out for me like this. Trusting me with your body."
Her lips part slightly, her breathing quickening as I position myself between her thighs. I take my time opening her with my fingers, circling her clit with my thumb until she's arching beneath me, whimpering.
When I finally slide into her, we both gasp at the connection. This time feels different—slower, more deliberate, weighted with meaning. I maintain eye contact as I move within her, watching pleasure transform her features, seeing the impact of each thrust reflected in the depths of her blue eyes.
"You feel like coming home," I confess, the words escaping before I can censor them. "Like I've been searching for you without even knowing it."
Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, tracking silver paths down her temples. "Flint," she whispers, my name a prayer on her lips.
The vulnerability in her expression undoes me. I reach up to untie her hands, suddenly needing her arms around me, needing the completeness of her embrace. She wraps herself around me immediately, her fingers digging into my shoulders, her legs locking around my waist, pulling me deeper.
We move together in perfect rhythm, her wetness enveloping me, her gasps and moans driving me closer to the edge. I can feel her tightening around me, her body trembling on the precipice of release.
"Let go for me," I encourage, sliding a hand between us to circle her clit. "Be a good girl, and come for me, Hazel."
My words trigger her release. She shatters beneath me, crying out my name as waves of pleasure wash over her. The sight of her coming undone, combined with the exquisite sensation of her walls pulsing around me, pushes me over the edge.
“Fuck, Hazel,” I groan. “I’m going to come. Be my good girl and take it all for me.” I follow her into ecstasy, burying myself deep as I spill inside her, her name torn from my throat in a ragged groan.
When I finally pull my cock from her, I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. A sudden peace settles over me, so complete and perfect it almost frightens me with its intensity.
"Stay," I say suddenly, the word escaping before I can talk myself out of it. "Not just tonight. Be with me. Officially. Exclusively. Forever"
Hazel lifts her head to look at me, her eyes searching mine. "Are you sure? It's so fast..."
"I've never been more certain of anything," I tell her, cupping her face in my hands. "I know it's fast. I know it defies logic. But what's between us—it's special, Hazel. Once-in-a-lifetime special. I don't want to waste a single day pretending it's anything less than what it is."
"And what is it?" she asks, her voice soft but steady.
I take a deep breath, offering her my heart without reservation. "The beginning of everything."