Chapter 4
Silas
I back her against the log wall, my mouth finding hers with more urgency this time. She melts into me, and her fingers fist in my shirt like she's been waiting for this too. Like I'm not alone in whatever this is.
She tastes like marshmallow and something uniquely her, sweet and perfect, and I can't get enough.
My hands find her waist, slide up her sides, feeling the curve of her ample breasts through her sweater.
She makes a small sound against my mouth, something between a gasp and a moan, and it snaps the last thread of my control.
I scoop her up and her legs lock around my waist immediately, like her body knows exactly what to do even if her mind hasn't caught up yet. I carry her across the cabin to my bed, the one I built myself and tucked against the far wall.
"Silas," she gasps as I lay her down, as I tug her sweater up and over her head. Her hair is mussed, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes bright and dark at the same time. "God, you're so—"
"Yours," I grind out, cutting her off because I need her to understand. "All yours, Cassie. And you’re all mine.”
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Say it.”
“I’m all yours, Silas. All yours.”
I kiss down her throat, over her collarbone, following the line of her bra to the swell of her breasts. She arches up into me, her fingers threading into my hair, and I can feel her pulse racing under my lips.
I unfasten her bra, and the sight of her tits springing free is a fucking miracle. My cock is throbbing, desperate to be inside her, but I force myself to take my time. I want to enjoy this for as long as possible.
I suck one nipple into my mouth, feeling it pebble under the pressure of my tongue. I move to the next one, taking my time with it too. Cassie moans, grasping my hair even more tightly.
“Oh, Silas… God, Silas…”
I unbutton her jeans, tugging them, along with her panties, over her hips and down the length of her body before discarding them on the floor. She’s completely naked, lying on my bed, and it’s too fucking much. I close my eyes, willing my body to behave.
Soon. You’ll have her soon.
I push her knees apart, marveling at the sight of her. “Beautiful,” I murmur. “So damn beautiful.”
Cassie gazes up at me with lusty, trusting eyes. “I want to see you.”
I chuckle, realizing that I’ve been so focused on stripping her bare that I’m still fully clothed. I shed my shirt, and then pants, thoroughly enjoying the way Cassie’s eyes widen at the sight of my erection.
I pump myself one. Twice. Three times. “I’m ready for you, baby. Are you ready for me?”
She nods eagerly, and I chuckle again.
“Let’s make absolutely sure,” I say, lowering my face to her pussy. I dip my tongue into her folds, tasting her.
She’s ready all right. But take your time. Make it last.
I swirl my tongue around her clit, and Cassie bucks against my face, begging for more. I press a finger inside her, then two, fucking her with my fingers. The softness of her skin, the way she responds to every touch, the small sounds she makes—it’s all driving me out of my mind.
When her breath quickens and her inner walls spasm, I suck her clit into my mouth one last time. She cries out in pleasure, breaking around me.
Now, I tell myself. You can have her now.
When I finally press into her—slow, giving her time to adjust—she trembles. Her eyes lock on mine, green and gold and absolutely devastating, and I have to hold myself still for a moment or risk losing control entirely.
"Look at me," I rasp, holding her gaze as I start to move. "No mysteries here, Cass. Just this. Just us."
We move together, our bodies and minds as one. She reaches the precipice again, her whole body tightening and shaking, and I follow a moment later, burying my face in her neck and letting go of everything I've been holding onto.
When the storm inside me eases—when I can breathe again, when my heart stops trying to pound out of my chest—I gather her close. She fits against me like she's always belonged here, in my arms, in my bed, in my cabin, in my life.
Her fingers trace idle patterns on my chest, and neither of us speaks for a long time. We just lie there, wrapped up in each other, listening to the fire crackling in the fireplace and the wind moving through the trees outside.
"I should probably write this down," she murmurs eventually, and I can hear the smile in her voice.
I huff out something that might be a laugh. "Pretty sure this isn't the kind of material that goes in a cozy mystery."
"No," she agrees, pressing a kiss to my chest. "But maybe I'll branch out. Write something different. A steamy romance, maybe. If you’ll help with the research.”
I tighten my arm around her. "Stay," I say, the word coming out rougher than I intend. "Tonight. Stay here.”
She tilts her head back to look at me, and her smile is soft and warm. "Okay."
For the first time in years—maybe ever—the fire inside me doesn't just burn.
It glows.
Was that a metaphor? Dammit… that must be a hazard of falling for a writer.
“So,” I say, nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck. “What kind of research did you have in mind?”