Chapter 9 #2
She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat, and it sends electricity shooting straight through me. My hands slide into her damp hair, tilting her head so I can deepen the kiss. She responds immediately, her tongue meeting mine, her body pressing against me like she can’t get close enough.
This is what I remember. This heat, this desperate need, this feeling like we could consume each other and it still wouldn’t be enough. She kisses like she’s drowning and I’m air, like she’s been holding her breath for eight years and only now remembers how to breathe.
Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the cabin in stark white light, followed immediately by thunder that rattles the windows.
But I barely notice. All I can focus on is Hazel—the way she fits against me like she was made for this, the soft gasps she makes when I trail kisses along her jaw, the way her fingers dig into my shoulders like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
“Hazel,” I breathe against her throat, and she shivers.
“Don’t,” she whispers, but her hands are pulling me closer, contradicting her words. “Don’t talk. Just—”
I capture her mouth again, cutting off whatever she was going to say.
She’s right. Words will only complicate this, only give her a chance to think, to remember all the reasons this is a bad idea.
Right now, there’s only this—the storm outside, the fire crackling behind us, and Hazel in my arms like she’s never been gone.
For a heartbeat, I let myself drown in it, in her, in the taste of everything I’ve missed. But I force myself to break away, breathing hard, my forehead pressed to hers. “Hazel,” I rasp, my hands cupping her face. “If you don’t want this—if you’re not ready—say the word and I’ll stop.”
Her eyes flicker with doubt, hesitation, all the old wounds that still stand between us. But then something burns through it—raw, fierce determination. She reaches up and fists a hand in my hair, yanking me down into a kiss that’s all fire and certainty.
And the dam breaks, all my self control shatters when she pulls me to her.
A groan rumbles out of me, and I scoop her up without breaking the kiss. She gasps against my mouth as I lift her, one arm under her knees, the other cradling her back. I carry her to the hearth and lower her carefully onto the thick rug in front of the fire.
Her hair fans out across the floor like dark silk, firelight catching on her flushed skin. For a moment, I just kneel over her, staring, my chest so tight I can barely breathe. Then she arches up, grabbing me, pulling me down until I’m braced over her. Her mouth finds mine again, frantic, needy.
Fabric peels away from her body, damp cotton sliding off her skin, and she shivers in the firelight.
My mouth trails down her throat, across her collarbone, over the swell of her breast until her back bows hard, a sharp cry tearing from her lips.
I suck her nipple into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging, urging me lower.
Her cries sharpen as I move down her stomach, tugging the sweatpants from her hips.
She lifts for me, trembling, baring herself to the firelight.
She’s already wet, glistening, and the sight alone makes my cock ache.
I spread her thighs wide, leaning in to breathe her in.
“God, I’ve missed this,” I murmur against her skin. “Missed the way you taste.”
Her fingers clutch my hair, a broken sound escaping her throat. “Luke—don’t… don’t talk.”
I smile against her wetness, dragging my tongue over her slowly, from the very bottom of her heat up to the swollen bud that makes Hazel’s whole body jolt. “You’re soaked for me,” I growl low, letting her feel the vibration of the words. “Messy and sweet and perfect.”
She whimpers, thighs trembling, but instead of pushing me away, her hips lift, chasing my mouth.
I part her with my thumbs, tongue flicking hard and fast over her clit, then slowing, teasing until she’s writhing. Each change drags another sound from her, gasps turning into helpless cries. Her nails scrape at my scalp, her head tipping back against the rug as she sobs out my name.
“Look at you,” I mutter roughly, sliding a finger inside her while circling her clit with my tongue.
She clamps down hard, tight and pulsing, and my cock throbs with need.
“Tell me not to talk all you want, Hazel, but this—” I curl my finger and she screams, arching off the rug, “—this says otherwise.”
Her moans spill out unchecked, wild and broken. I add another finger, stretching her while sucking her clit, relentless until the rug beneath us is damp. She thrashes, her thighs quaking around my shoulders, voice breaking into sobs of pleasure.
“Please,” she gasps, her voice wrecked, her body bucking. “Please, I can’t—”
“You can,” I growl against her, licking her mercilessly.
She shatters seconds later, a scream ripping from her throat as her body bows off the floor.
Wetness floods against my tongue, dripping down my chin, and I groan into her, devouring every last drop.
Even when she tries to twist away, I hold her down and keep going, dragging her through wave after wave until she collapses, trembling and spent.
By the time I crawl back up her body, she’s dazed, her lips parted, her chest heaving. She kisses me anyway, frantic, tasting herself there, moaning into my mouth. Her hands shove at my jeans, urgent, and I tear them down, my cock heavy and aching against her.
The head drags over her slick folds, and she gasps into my mouth, her whole body jolting. I groan at the heat coating me, sliding easily through her mess.
“Still so wet,” I rasp, voice raw. “So damn ready for me.”
Her only answer is a whimper, nails digging into my back, legs hooking around my hips.
I press forward, slow at first, savoring the stretch as I sink into her. She grips me so tight I see stars, and a guttural sound rips from my chest. Inch by inch, I push deeper until I’m buried to the hil. Our gasps mingle into one.
She cries out beneath me, nails clawing at my shoulders, her body arching hard. I stay still for a moment, trying to hold back, but the way she clenches around me has my control slipping fast.
I draw back, thrust again, deeper, harder. Her moan tears into the air, sharp and broken, and she meets me thrust for thrust, her wet heat sucking me deeper.
At first I try to savor her, but the sight of her — flushed and ruined, hair wild, lips swollen, gasping my name — snaps something inside me.
My hips slam into hers, my pace unraveling into something raw, frantic.
The slap of our bodies fills the cabin, sweat slicking our skin, the fire crackling hot at our side.
“Jesus, Hazel…” My voice is broken, guttural, every thrust a groan. “So tight—so fucking good.”
Her cries rise higher, her nails raking deep into my back, her legs pulling me closer, tighter, as if she wants me to disappear inside her. The storm rages outside, thunder shaking the windows, but she’s louder, her sobs and moans filling the space, each one shoving me closer to the edge.
She starts to tremble beneath me, her release building, her walls fluttering around me. I press my thumb to her clit, circling fast, and she breaks apart with a scream, her body convulsing, pulsing tight around me.
That’s it. I lose all control. My thrusts turn erratic, brutal with need, and then I’m spilling into her, release tearing through me in wave after wave. I groan against her throat, her name breaking on my lips, my whole body shaking until I collapse against her, buried deep.
For long moments, there’s nothing but our ragged breaths, sweat cooling between us, her heart pounding against mine. The storm still hammers the roof, but the only thing I feel is her, clinging to me, trembling beneath me.
I lift my head, just enough to see her face—lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed and wet. Firelight dances over her, gilding her in gold, and my chest cracks wide open.
Emotion slams into me, fierce and overwhelming.
She feels like home.
The vow sharpens inside me, steady and absolute: I won’t lose her again. Not this time. Whatever it takes, I’ll make her stay.