5. Hallie
HALLIE
I wake up to something thick between my legs. The stretch inside me burns, but God, it feels good. Too good.
My breath catches, my fingers clawing at the sheets as my eyes snap open, my vision blurring for a second before focusing on the man above me.
Heath.
His steel blue eyes lock onto mine, his jaw tight, his breath ragged. The weight of him presses me into the mattress, his cock buried deep, filling me in a way I never imagined. My body clenches around him, instinctively trying to adjust, to take more.
"Fuck," he growls, his voice rough. "You're so tight."
"I-I didn't know it would hurt like this."
"Wait. Are you really a virgin?'
Heat floods my cheeks, my stomach twisting with embarrassment. I turn my head away, my teeth sinking into my lower lip. "I am. I'm sorry?—"
"Hey." His fingers brush against my cheek, turning my face back to his. His touch is gentle, but his voice is firm. "Don't be embarrassed, baby. I don't mind. In fact, the idea that I'm your first is making me harder."
I swallow hard, my pulse hammering in my throat. His thumb traces my bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he watches me. "You feel so fucking good," he murmurs, his hips flexing, his cock sliding deeper. "So tight. So perfect."
A whimper escapes me, my body betraying me as pleasure coils low in my belly. He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging against my walls, and then he thrusts in again, deeper this time. My back arches, my nails digging into his shoulders.
"Fuck," he murmurs, his voice rough. "Take me, Hallie. Take all of me."
His hand slides between us, his fingers finding my clit, circling it, teasing it. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock stretching me, his fingers working me, his body covering mine. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps, my hips lifting to meet his thrusts.
"Heath," I moan, my voice trembling. "I-I feel like I'm about to…"
"Let go," he growls, his fingers moving faster, his cock pounding into me. "Just come for me again, baby. Right here, with my cock inside you."
His words send a jolt of heat through me, my body tightening around him. I can feel it building, the pressure, the pleasure, the way my body responds to him even when I'm not sure I want it to. My thighs tremble, my breath hitching as the sensation crests.
"Heath, I'm going to…"
"Come for me," he demands, his voice rough. "Now."
His fingers press harder against my clit, his cock slamming into me, and I shatter. My body convulses, my pussy clenching around him as pleasure crashes over me. He groans, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes with a low, guttural growl.
For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress, the heat of his body against mine. His fingers brush against my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
"One more," he murmurs, his voice rough.
I shake my head, my body already spent, my eyelids heavy. "I-I can't. I'm so sleepy."
His lips curve into a slow, possessive smile. "Then sleep, baby."
I nod. "But you can keep going."
He smirks, and his cock is goes hard inside me, his hips flexing, his fingers sliding between us again. I whimper, my body too sensitive, too tired, but he doesn't stop. His fingers work my clit, his cock moving slow and deep, his breath hot against my ear.
"Sweet dreams," he murmurs.
The morning air is crisp, the kind that stings your lungs just enough to make you feel alive. My fingers brush against the back of my hand, still tingling from where Heath's calloused skin had gripped me last night.
The memory of his weight pressing me into the mattress lingers, the stretch of him inside me.
I glance at him from the corner of my eye. His strides are long, effortless, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants. The tattoos on his forearms shift with every step, the ink dark against his skin.
He asked me to go on a walk after I woke up this morning. I can't believe I lost my virginity last night.
My thighs ache with every step, a delicious soreness that makes my stomach twist. I shift my weight, and the friction sends a jolt of heat straight to my core.
I bite my lip, forcing myself to focus on the crunch of gravel beneath my sneakers, the way the sunlight filters through the trees, anything but the way his voice had sounded when he told me to come for him.
"You're quiet."
His voice cuts through the quiet, low and rough. I jump, my pulse spiking, and I turn to face him. His steel blue eyes lock onto mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
"I—" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. "I didn't realize I was."
A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes are serious. "You're thinking about last night."
It's not a question.
My cheeks burn, and I look away, my fingers twisting together. "Maybe."
He stops walking, and I have no choice but to stop with him. His hand reaches out, his fingers tilting my chin up until I'm forced to meet his gaze. "No, maybe about it, Hal. I can see it in your eyes."
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "It's just… I didn't expect it to get better."
"Yeah." His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, slow and deliberate. "It did get better."
My body leans into his touch, my lips parting just enough for his thumb to slip inside. He groans, low and deep, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine.
"Are you sore?" he murmurs, his voice rough.
I nod, my breath hitching as his hand slides down my throat, his fingers pressing against my pulse point. "A little."
His lips curve into a slow, possessive smile. "I'm sorry. I couldn't control myself."
The word sends a jolt of heat straight to my core, and I press my thighs together, my body already betraying me. His eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my mouth, and for a second, I think he's going to kiss me.
But he doesn't.
Instead, his hand slides down my arm, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Come on," he says, his voice rough. "Let's keep walking."
I let him pull me forward, my heart hammering in my chest.
The trail widens, sunlight dappling the dirt in gold and shadow.
A squirrel darts across the path, and he snorts.
"What?" I ask.
Heath's chest rumbles. "Nothing."
"What is it?"
"The squirrel kinda looks like you, when you're not hungry and I tell you to eat."
I huff. "I don't look like?—"
His chuckle cuts me off, deep and unexpected. "You look like it right now."
And then I'm laughing for real, my hand pressing to my stomach.
Real laughter. Not the careful, polite kind. Not the kind I use when I'm trying to keep things light. This is the kind that makes my sides ache, the kind that leaves me breathless.
I stop and stare at him.
Heath glances down at me, his steel-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "What?"
I shake my head, still grinning. "Nothing. Just… you."
His eyebrows lift. "Me?"
"Yeah." I nudge him with my shoulder. "You're not as scary as I thought you were."
A slow smirk spreads across his face. "Oh, I'm plenty scary."
"Mmm." I tilt my head, considering. "I don't think so."
He stops walking, turning to face me fully. His free hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, like he's not sure he's allowed. "Maybe not right now," he murmurs. "How about I show you tonight?"
The air between us shifts, thickens. My pulse kicks up, but not from fear. From something else. Something warmer. Something that makes my skin tingle.
"I like it when you let your guard down," he says, his voice low.
I swallow. "What do you mean?"
"When you're relaxed." His thumb traces the curve of my jaw. "You act more like your age."
I roll my eyes, but my stomach flutters. "And how do I act normally?"
"Sometimes, like my age."
I smile. "So twenty years older."
His smirk deepens. "Yeah."
I huff, but there's no real heat behind it. "How exactly?"
"Like we're the same age." His hand slides down to my neck, his fingers pressing lightly against my pulse. "Means you don't take shit. Means you're not afraid to call me out when I'm being an ass."
I bite my lip. "You're not an ass."
"Sometimes I am."
"Not to me."
His expression softens, just for a second. Then his hand tightens, just a little, and he pulls me closer. "No," he murmurs. "Not to you."
My breath catches. His body is warm against mine, his scent wrapping around me. I should step back.
"Heath," I whisper.
"Yeah?"
I don't know what I want to say. I don't know how to put into words the way my chest feels too tight, the way my heart is pounding, the way I want to stay here, like this, forever. So I don't say anything at all.
Instead, I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his.
His breath hitches, and for a second, he doesn't move. Then his hand slides into my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, and he kisses me back.
Slow. Deep. Like he's memorizing the shape of my mouth.
When he pulls away, his forehead rests against mine. "Hallie," he murmurs.
I close my eyes, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah?"
"You're gonna be the death of me."
I laugh, breathless. "That's a little dramatic."
"I think I'm going crazy." His lips brush against my temple.
I laugh and lean into him, my head resting against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, strong and sure.
For the first time in a long time, I don't feel like I have to be anything but exactly who I am.