Chapter 5 #2
She stared at me, breathless, trembling. She bit her lip. She looked at the cabin. She looked at the woods. Then she looked back at me.
"Don't stop," she whispered.
I didn't need to be told twice.
I slid my hand inside the waistband of her leggings. Her skin was hot, damp. I pushed past the lace of her panties. She was soaked.
I groaned. "fuck, you're so wet."
"Because of you," she admitted, hiding her face in my neck.
I found her. I slid one finger inside her. She was tight, so tight, clutching me instantly.
I started a rhythm. Slow. Deep. Curling my finger, hitting that spot I knew would undo her.
"Atlas!" she cried out, her voice echoing across the pond.
"Quiet," I warned, nipping at her earlobe. "Sound carries on the water. Unless you want the deer to hear you come."
"I don't care," she panted, moving her hips against my hand, seeking more friction. "More. Please."
Please.
The "Prat" was gone. The Submissive was here.
I added a second finger, stretching her. My thumb worked her clit relentlessly. She was falling apart in my arms. Her head fell back, exposing her throat. She was making soft, broken noises—whimpers, gasps, my name like a prayer.
"Look at me," I ordered.
She struggled to open her eyes. They were glazed, unfocused.
"Watch," I said. "Watch what happens when you let go."
I picked up the pace. I wasn't gentle. I was exacting. I knew exactly where to press, how hard, how fast. I was playing her body like I played the game—with brutal efficiency.
Her breath hitched. Her body went rigid. Her nails dug into my shoulders through my jacket.
"Atlas... I'm... I'm gonna..."
"Let go," I growled against her mouth. "Give it to me."
She shattered.
It was violent. She convulsed in my arms, crying out, her inner muscles clamping down on my fingers in a spasm of pure pleasure. She shook, sobbing dryly, completely undone.
I held her through it, keeping my hand firm, riding out the aftershocks until she went limp against me.
We sat there for a long time. The only sound was the wind and our ragged breathing.
I slowly withdrew my hand. I adjusted her clothes, pulling the hoodie down, fixing her leggings. I wrapped my arms around her, tucking her head under my chin.
She was trembling.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice rough.
She nodded against my chest. "Yeah."
"Cold?"
"No."
She pulled back, looking at me. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen. She looked... happy.
"You didn't..." she started, glancing at my jeans. I was painfully hard. A rock.
"Don't worry about me," I said, shifting uncomfortably. "I'll handle it."
"That's not fair," she whispered.
"Life isn't fair, Princess." I stood up, lifting her with me, setting her feet back on the ice. My legs felt shaky, but I locked my knees.
"We need to go inside," I said. "Before we freeze."
We skated back to the dock in silence. But it wasn't the awkward silence of before. It was a loaded silence. A silence that said this isn't over.
Back in the cabin, the atmosphere had shifted. The air was charged with static electricity. Every time we moved, every time our eyes met, I felt the pull.
I went to the bathroom to take a cold shower. It didn't help. The image of her face as she came apart was branded on the inside of my eyelids.
When I came out, Aurelia was in the kitchenette, making coffee. She had changed into dry clothes—sweatpants and a tight tank top. Her hair was down, damp from a shower, hanging in loose waves around her shoulders.
She turned when she heard me.
"Coffee?" she offered.
"Sure."
I walked over to take the mug. Our fingers brushed.
Sparks. Literal sparks.
I didn't pull away. I grabbed her hand, preventing her from retreating.
"We have a problem," I said.
"Do we?" she asked, her pulse fluttering under my thumb.
"Yeah. The rules."
"What about them?"
"Rule four," I said. "Just exist."
"We are existing," she said, stepping closer. "We're existing very intensely."
"Aurelia," I warned. "I'm your babysitter. I'm your employee. This..." I gestured between us. "This is a fireable offense. If your dad finds out, I lose everything. The money. The scholarship. My mom."
Her face fell. "Right. The money."
"It's not just the money," I said, frustrated. "It's the principle. I gave my word."
"So, what happened on the pond... was that a mistake?"
I looked at her. I couldn't lie.
"No," I said fiercely. "It was the best thing that's happened to me in years."
She smiled, a small, hopeful thing.
"But," I continued, "it can't happen again. We have to... we have to cool it. Until finals are over. Until the check clears."
"Can we?" she challenged. "Can you sleep five feet away from me and not think about it?"
"I'll have to."
"Okay," she said. She pulled her hand away. "Okay, Atlas. We'll be good. We'll be professional."
She turned to walk back to the ladder.
"But just so you know," she said over her shoulder, pausing with one hand on the rung. "I'm not going to make it easy for you."
"I didn't expect you to."
She climbed up to the loft.
I watched her go. I watched the sway of her hips. I watched the way the tank top clung to her back.
I groaned and downed the scalding coffee in one gulp, relishing the burn. It was better than the alternative ache.
I sat down at the table, opening my laptop. I tried to focus on the game tape. I tried to analyze the defensive zone coverage of the Harvard Crimson.
But all I could see was Aurelia on the ice.
And all I could think was: Two weeks left.
I wasn't going to make it.
Aurelia
I lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling beams. My body was humming. I felt alive. I felt powerful.
For the first time in my life, I wasn't just a doll being posed. I was a participant.
Atlas thought he could put the genie back in the bottle. He thought he could revert to "Rule Four."
He was wrong.
I rolled over, hugging his pillow—which I had stolen—to my chest. It smelled like him. Cedar and snow.
He wanted to play a game of restraint? Fine. I knew that game. I was a ballerina. Restraint was my art form.
But I also knew how to break.
And I was going to break him. Not to hurt him. But because I needed to know... I needed to know if the man who held me together on the ice could catch me when I finally, truly fell.
I closed my eyes and let the memory of his hands replay in my mind.
Don't stop.
He hadn't stopped.
And neither would I.