Unnamed Chapter
One of the two bottles is completely empty.
I didn’t even check what it was; I just drank that milky liquid like it was water. Big mistake. It hit like jet fuel. Now we’re both laughing so hard we’re crying, all because Luca said “Desire” instead of “Descartes” while trying to sound all philosophical.
The cabin is warm around us, fire snapping in the stone hearth, shadows dancing across the pine walls. Empty glasses clutter the nightstand, and the mountain air seeps faintly through the cracked window, cool against my flushed skin.
We’re sitting on the floor, backs against the bed we never touched, the quilt sliding down one side, our shoulders brushing every time the laughter takes over again.
“When did it get so dark?” he asks, glancing at the big window that showed mountains just a couple of hours ago.
“No idea, I’m gonna—” I try to stand, but my head does a full one eighty, and I collapse onto him. Luca catches me easily, laughing like I just told the best joke of the night.
“I think you’ve had enough, Em.”
“You think?” I snort, trying to stand again, but I end up plopping down on his lap instead.
And just like that, the laughter dies. But not our breathing.
Luca’s whole vibe shifts. His eyes darken, intense and focused, like something raw and instinctive has been awakened just by touching me. “What?” he asks, his gaze locked on my mouth like it owes him something.
I trail my finger down his cheek. “Sometimes… It’s like there’s an animal instinct in you,” I whisper, lightheaded and bold.
“I like to think it’s animal love, not instinct.” His voice is soft.
“Animal love, huh? I like that.” I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. “So, I’m the lamb, and you’re the lion?”
He nods slowly, his eyes still glued to my lips.
“Then what are you waiting for?” I whisper. “Devour me.”
His breath hitches—and then his hands find my waist and pull me tight against him. His kiss is deeper now, more urgent. Familiar, but unleashed. Like we’ve kissed a thousand times before, but never like this.
We fall onto the bed, the heat between us rising fast. He kisses me like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted, and for a second, I feel wild. Weightless. Reckless.
His hands wander up my sides, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I gasp as he pulls me closer, kissing my neck, my jaw, my mouth, everywhere. His lips are hungry, but his eyes… his eyes still ask.
I nod. “Yes,” I breathe. “Take it off.”
My breath catches when he slides off my shirt and sees my bra—the one I hate, because it’s more functional than cute. Still, he doesn’t hesitate. He pulls it over my head like it’s nothing, and when I see the way he’s looking at me…
Yeah. It’s definitely not nothing.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, then leans down and kisses me in a way that makes my whole body arch toward him.
“Luca…” I moan, letting my head fall back onto the mattress.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, but he’s barely listening. His mouth is busy. He’s completely focused, like I’m some kind of mystery he’s trying to solve with lips and hands.
“That… feels good,” I gasp, running my hands down his back. That’s when I realize he’s still fully dressed. “Lose the nerd shirt, Walker.”
He laughs, deep and gravelly, and rips it off in half a second.
Now it’s skin on skin, and the contact sends shivers down my spine.
“How do you feel?” he whispers near my ear.
I open my mouth to answer, but he sucks my earlobe and my brain just… blinks. Hard. Gone. Totally gone.
He knows what that does to me, because he keeps going, and I can’t think straight. I’m too busy falling apart in his hands.
“I asked you something, Em.”
“Oh. Um. Good. Really good. Thanks.”
He laughs again, but then he slows down. His arms rest on either side of my face, and his eyes search mine. “I can stop anytime, okay? You don’t have to go any further if you’re not ready.”
“Are you kidding me?” I pull him down and kiss him with everything I’ve got, just as he starts unbuttoning his jeans.
When he pulls away to grab a condom, he shows it to me like he’s checking one last time. “We can still stop.”
“Am I giving off mixed signals or something?” I raise a brow.
“No,”—he laughs—“I just want this to mean something. I want it to feel right. You only get one first time.”
“I know. That’s why I want it to be with you.”
He nods, then slips out of his boxers, and… okay.
Whoa. I was not expecting that. It’s… a lot. I swallow hard.
He doesn’t seem to notice my inner panic spiral—just puts the condom on and crawls back between my legs, hooking his fingers in the waistband of my cotton underwear and pulling them down slowly.
“I want to kiss you,” he whispers.
“You’ve been kissing me for months, dummy,” I tease, but he doesn’t laugh. He’s not looking at my face.
“I meant… here.”
“Oh.” Oh my God. “…Okay.”
He lowers himself, and when I feel the warmth of his mouth down there, I grip the sheets like they’re all that’s keeping me on this planet.
His mouth… There…
“Holy—!” I cry out as his tongue flicks exactly where it needs to.
If this is animal love, then yes. Yes, to all of it. He’s the lion. And I am a very willing lamb.
I grip his hair, arch into him, and before I can even process what’s happening, I’m spiraling. A wave builds from deep inside me, pulling tighter and tighter until—
“Ah!” I cry out, head thrown back, chest heaving as I shatter into a thousand glittering pieces. “Oh my God,” I breathe, floating.
Luca wipes his mouth and climbs up. “Ready, little lamb?” he asks, a flicker of pride in his voice.
I nod, breathless.
He aligns with me and pushes in slowly. It’s… pressure. New. Intense. A weird mix of too much and not enough.
His head drops into the crook of my neck. He pulls back, then moves forward again. “You okay?”
I nod again, because honestly, I’m not sure how to explain what I feel. Not pain exactly. Not pleasure yet either. Just… different.
But then, slowly, everything changes. The ache fades, replaced by something hot and urgent. My body reacts before I can catch up, and I realize I’m moaning, needy, lost in it.
Luca’s not quiet either. He groans against my skin, deep and raw. “God… You feel so good. I knew you would.”
That makes me smile—just knowing he’s enjoying this too.
His rhythm picks up, and so does the rush of pleasure.
“I want us to finish together,” he pants, sliding a hand between us to stroke me again. “I’m close.”
I am too. That pressure builds again, the second wave crashing just beneath the surface.
“Emma—shit—” he grits out, right as his hips still.
His fingers keep working, and then I’m there, stars exploding behind my eyelids.
He collapses beside me, breathless, and whispers into my neck, “I love you.”
And I smile, completely undone, and whisper it right back. “I love you too.”