Chapter 5
EMORY
The shed door clicked shut behind us, the sound unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. Dust motes floated in the thin shafts of light slipping through the single small window. The air felt still, like everything had paused, waiting for what was about to happen.
There was no chair or bench. Only a narrow wooden counter along one wall stacked with old maps and a first-aid kit, and the faint smell of pine and old paper.
Kai turned to face me, his broad shoulders filling the space, chest rising and falling too fast. His eyes—dark, stormy—searched mine.
“This isn’t—” he started, voice gravel-rough. “There’s nowhere comfortable. No bed. Nothing soft. You deserve—”
I stepped into him before the rest of the sentence could leave his mouth, palms flat against his chest. His heart hammered under my hand.
“Kai.” My own voice sounded steadier than I felt. “Fuck me. Right here. Against the wall. Please.”
The word—fuck—felt foreign and electric on my tongue. I’d never said it to a man, never even thought it in this context. But the moment it left my lips, something hot and powerful unfurled in my chest. Like I’d claimed a piece of myself I hadn’t known was missing.
Kai groaned—low, guttural, almost pained. His hands flexed at his sides like he was fighting not to grab me.
“You can’t just—” His throat worked. “Say shit like that, Emory.”
“I just did.”
He crashed into me. There was no hesitation left in him—only motion, need, and heat.
Our mouths met hard and hungry, teeth clacking before we found the right angle.
His tongue stroked mine and I whimpered into the kiss, fingers already fumbling at the hem of his shirt.
He yanked it over his head in one impatient motion, and I dragged my nails lightly down the warm, ridged planes of his stomach.
Clothes came off in a frantic, clumsy rush—my jacket, his belt, my leggings shoved down with shaking hands. My shirt followed. Then my bra.
Cool air hit my bare skin and my nipples tightened instantly. Kai’s gaze dropped, dark and reverent, and he palmed both breasts at once, thumbs brushing the sensitive peaks. I arched into the touch with a gasp I couldn’t stifle.
He backed me against the rough wooden wall. The wood pricked my shoulder blades, but I barely registered them. His mouth was on my throat, then lower—hot, open kisses over my collarbone, my sternum—until he sank to his knees in front of me.
My breath caught.
He looked up, eyes locked on mine as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my underwear and slowly, deliberately, drew them down my legs. I stepped out, trembling.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, voice wrecked. Then he leaned in and put his mouth on me.
The first touch of his tongue was a shock—wet heat, soft pressure sliding over that hidden, sensitive bundle of nerves I'd never even explored myself. My hips jerked involuntarily. He made a hungry sound against me and gripped my thighs, spreading me wider so he could fit himself closer.
Nothing had ever felt like this. It wasn’t just physical—it was like something essential had finally clicked into place. Every flick, every slow circle, every gentle suck sent sparks racing up my spine.
My hands flew to his hair, fingers twisting in the dark strands because I needed something to hold onto. My thighs shook. My knees threatened to give out. Heat coiled tighter and tighter in my belly, unfamiliar and overwhelming and so good.
This was all new—every sensation a revelation, like my body was waking up for the first time. I’d heard whispers from friends, read things in books, but nothing prepared me for the way it built, layer upon layer, until I was rocking shamelessly against his face. I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.
When the wave finally broke, it was sudden and blinding. Pleasure snapped through me like lightning, and my back bowed off the wall, mouth open on a silent cry. Kai didn’t stop—kept licking softly through the aftershocks until I went still, trying to catch my breath.
He rose, lips glistening, eyes wild. I reached for him without thinking, fingers wrapping around the thick length of him through his open fly. He was hot, hard, velvet over steel. I stroked once, twice, marveling at the way he pulsed in my hand, the way his abs clenched and his breath punched out.
“Fuck—Emory—” His forehead dropped to mine. “You have to stop or I won’t last.”
I didn’t want to stop. But he gently pried my hand away, kissed my palm, then reached for his wallet on the floor.
“Protection,” he rasped.
“I’m on birth control.” The words tumbled out. “The pill. I take it religiously.”
I waited, suddenly aware of how much his reaction mattered to me. I didn’t move a muscle. I didn’t even breathe.
He exhaled hard, relief clear on his face. For one stupid second, I worried that he was scared I’d get pregnant. Terrified of being tied to me like that. The notion stung more than it should have.
This is just sex, I reminded myself. Hot, reckless, one-time sex in a ranger shed. Nothing more.
Except deep down, some quiet part of me already knew that was a lie.
Kai lifted me like I weighed nothing, my back hitting the wall again. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. He notched himself at my entrance, the broad head nudging just inside.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, voice strained. “Or too deep. Anything.”
I nodded, nails digging into his shoulders.
He pushed in slowly.
The stretch burned—sharp, unfamiliar pressure that made me gasp and tense. He froze immediately.
“Breathe, baby.” His voice stayed steady, anchoring me as his lips brushed my temple. “Follow my lead. Relax for me. Let your body adjust—feel how it’s opening for me.”
I tried. Forced air into my lungs, focusing on the warmth of his skin against mine, the steady thud of his heart echoing through his chest into my own.
He stayed still, impossibly patient, murmuring low words against my ear—good girl, that’s it, just like that—until the sting eased into something fuller, less painful. Almost…right.
He rocked his hips gently, inching deeper with each careful movement. The burn flared again, but it was different now—mingled with a strange, building fullness that made my breath hitch.
I could feel every inch of him sliding in, stretching me in ways I’d never imagined. It was invasive, intimate, overwhelming. My inner walls clenched around him instinctively, and he groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he whispered, forehead pressed to mine. His breath came in hot puffs against my lips. “So fucking perfect.”
He pulled back slightly—slow, controlled—then eased forward again, deeper this time.
The friction sparked something new inside me, a flicker of pleasure beneath the ache.
I heard the soft, wet sounds of our bodies connecting, the faint creak of the wooden wall under my back as he pressed me harder against it.
Outside, wind rustled through the pines, a distant bird called—reminders of how exposed we were, how anyone could hike by and hear us if we weren’t careful.
Another thrust, and he was halfway in. The pressure built, bordering on too much, but his hands gripped my thighs, holding me open, steady.
“You’re doing so good,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “Feel that? That’s me, all for you. Let it in.”
I whimpered softly, biting my lip to muffle it. The fullness was everywhere now—deep in my core, radiating out to my fingertips, my toes. Each slow slide in and out sent tiny shocks through me, the pain fading into a delicious ache that made my hips tilt toward him without thinking.
I heard his ragged breathing, the low growl in his throat when I shifted and took him deeper. My own pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out everything else for a moment.
Deeper still. He adjusted his angle, hitting a spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyelids. I gasped—louder than I meant to—and he covered my mouth with his, swallowing the sound in a deep kiss. His tongue mimicked his hips, thrusting in time, and the dual sensation made my head spin.
The burn was gone now, replaced by slick, heated glide.
Every thrust felt better than the last—fuller, hotter, more intense.
I could feel him throbbing inside me, the way my body gripped him like it never wanted to let go.
The wall dug into my skin, but it only heightened everything—the roughness against my back, the smoothness of him moving in me, the contrast making me dizzy.
But the pleasure was still…distant. Building, yes, but not close enough. The fullness was incredible, overwhelming, but it wasn’t quite enough to push me over the edge on its own. My body trembled with need and frustration.
Kai must have felt it—the way my hips stilled, the tiny hitch in my breathing. He slowed, pressing deep and holding there, buried to the hilt. His voice was low, rough against my ear.
“Touch yourself for me, Emory.”
My cheeks flamed instantly. “I—I don’t know how. Not like this. I’ve never—”
“I’ll show you.” He shifted his weight so one arm could support me fully, freeing his other hand. He guided mine down between us, pressing my fingers gently against that swollen, slick bundle of nerves he’d worshiped with his mouth minutes earlier. “Right here. Feel how sensitive you still are?”
I nodded, breath catching as the lightest brush of my own fingertips sent a jolt through me.
“Small circles,” he murmured, moving my hand in slow, deliberate motion with his. “Just like that. Soft at first. Then a little firmer when it starts to feel good. Don’t stop.”
I obeyed, tentative at first, then bolder as the pleasure sharpened.
The combination was devastating—him thick and deep inside me, stretching me open, and my own fingers circling that tight knot of sensation.
Every rock of his hips pushed him against that perfect spot inside, while my touch stoked the fire outside.
“That’s it,” he praised, voice wrecked. “Keep going. Let it build. You’re so fucking close—I can feel you fluttering around me.”
The rhythm synced—his slow, deep thrusts matching the circles of my fingers. I heard the wet glide of him moving in me, the soft slap of skin, my own uneven breaths, his low groans when I clenched harder. Pleasure coiled tighter, hotter, until it felt like I might shatter.
“Kai—” I pressed my mouth to his ear, voice trembling. “It’s—I’m—”
“Come for me,” he rasped, hips snapping harder, deeper. The shed seemed to disappear, reduced to heat, motion, and breath. “Let me feel you come all over my cock.”
The orgasm hit like a freight train—sharper, more intense than the first. My fingers faltered but kept moving as my body clamped down around him in pulsing waves. I buried my face in his neck to muffle the broken cry, thighs shaking, every muscle locking tight.
He followed seconds later, burying himself as deep as he could go with a choked groan, pulsing hot inside me in long, shuddering spurts that prolonged my own release.
We shuddered together, clinging, breathing hard. My ears rang softly, the world rushing back in layers. For long seconds, we just held each other—sweaty, trembling, hearts slamming in tandem.
Kai eased out carefully and set me on my feet. My legs felt like jelly—a tender ache lingering between my thighs, my fingers still tingling from where I’d touched myself.
He steadied me with one hand while we both scrambled for scattered clothes. Fabric rustled. Zippers hissed. Boots were tugged on. Neither of us rushed, but neither of us lingered.
He pressed a quick, hard kiss to my mouth, then moved to the door. Cracked it open an inch. Listened.
Nothing.
He gestured—come on—and held out his hand. I took it.
We stepped into the bright afternoon light, fingers laced tight, and started down the trail. My body still hummed, tender and sated in places I’d never been before. My mind spun.
What now?
What happened next when the man who’d just taken your virginity had also taught you how to come with him buried inside you?
I didn’t know.
But his hand stayed in mine the whole way down. And for the first time in a long time, the uncertainty didn’t feel like falling.
It felt like flying. And I never wanted to land.