Chapter 4
SYDNEY
Icouldn't believe I was here, in his arms, being carried down the hallway like I weighed nothing.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a mix of excitement and terror. All my life, I’d been told this was wrong—good girls waited for marriage, good girls didn’t give in to desires of the flesh.
But as Kross nudged open the bedroom door with his shoulder and set me down gently on the edge of the bed, those voices in my head felt farther away. Not gone, but quieter.
I wanted this. I wanted him.
The room was simple, like the rest of the cabin—a queen-size bed with a plaid comforter, a wooden dresser, and a lamp casting a warm glow. No frills. Just like him. He stood in front of me, his hands framing my face, his thumbs brushing my cheeks.
“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough, like gravel under tires.
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Yes. But…I’m nervous.”
He smiled, that slow, reassuring curve of his lips that made my stomach flip. “That’s okay. We’ll go at your pace. You tell me if you want to stop, or slow down, or anything. This is about you letting go, Sydney. Doing what feels good for you.”
His words wrapped around me like a blanket, easing the knot in my chest. He leaned down and kissed me again, softer this time, his lips coaxing mine open. I sighed into his mouth, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him through his shirt.
He pulled back just enough to tug at the hem of my sweater. “Can I take this off?”
My breath hitched. The voices whispered—good girls don’t undress for men they’re not married to—but I pushed them aside.
“Yes,” I said.
He peeled the sweater over my head, his eyes darkening as he took in my plain white bra. Nothing fancy. Nothing I’d ever worn to seduce anyone. But the way he looked at me, like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, made heat pool low in my body.
His fingers traced the straps, then hooked under them, sliding them down my shoulders. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, unhooking the clasp with practiced ease.
The bra fell away, and I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest, my face burning.
“Hey,” he said gently, easing my arms down. “Don’t hide. Let me see you. Let yourself be seen.”
I let my arms fall, shivering as the cool air hit my skin. My nipples tightened, and I felt exposed, vulnerable. But his gaze was appreciative, not judgmental.
He cupped one breast in his large hand, his thumb circling the peak, and I gasped at the spark of pleasure that shot through me.
“Does that feel good?” he asked, watching my face.
“Yes,” I whispered, arching into his touch despite myself.
“Good. That’s what I want—for you to feel good. No rules. No holding back.”
He kissed my neck, then lower, his mouth closing over my nipple.
I moaned, my fingers threading into his hair.
The sensation was electric—warm and wet, tugging at something deep inside me.
He switched to the other side, his hand kneading the first, and I squirmed, the ache between my thighs growing insistent.
He straightened, his hands moving to my jeans. “Let’s get these off too.”
I lifted my hips as he tugged them down, along with my panties, leaving me completely bare. Naked in front of a man for the first time.
The judgmental voices screamed, but Kross’s expression silenced them. He looked at me like I was a gift.
“Lie back,” he said, guiding me onto the bed.
I did, my legs trembling as he knelt between them, his hands on my thighs, spreading them gently. “I’m going to taste you now. If it’s too much, say so.”
Taste me?
My thoughts barely had time to catch up before his head lowered and his tongue brushed against me. I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily. It was shocking—intimate and forbidden—but it felt incredible. Warm pressure building in waves.
“Easy,” he murmured, his hands holding my hips steady. “Just relax. Let it feel good.”
He moved slowly, exploring, circling that sensitive place I’d only ever brushed accidentally in the shower. Pleasure built like a storm, coiling tighter. I whimpered, my hands fisting the sheets, the voices fading to a distant hum as sensation took over.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice vibrating against me. “You’re doing so good. Let go, Sydney. Come for me.”
His mouth focused, pressure increasing until finally, my first orgasm tore through me. My body arched off the bed, a broken sound slipping from my lips. Heat flooded my core, rippling outward, leaving me trembling and breathless.
I’d never felt anything like it.
Kross kissed his way up my body as the aftershocks faded, his mouth finding mine. I tasted myself on him, salty and unfamiliar, and instead of embarrassment, it made me bolder.
“That was…amazing,” I said, my voice unsteady.
“You were amazing,” he said with a grin. “See? Letting go feels pretty damn good.”
I bit my lip, glancing down at his still-clothed body. “I—I snuck and got on birth control a few months ago. When we first started talking. So, um…I’m safe.”
His expression softened. “Smart girl. Thank you for telling me.”
He stripped off his shirt, then his jeans and boxers. When he stepped free, hard and unashamed, my mouth went dry. He was bigger than I’d imagined, thick and veined, jutting straight toward me.
“Like what you see?” he asked, heat lacing his voice.
“Can I…touch you?” I asked, my voice small.
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned. “Touch me however you want.”
I sat up, my hand tentative as I wrapped my fingers around him. He was hot and smooth over steel-hardness, and he hissed in pleasure. Emboldened, I stroked him, feeling him twitch in my grip. Curiosity won out, and I leaned forward, licking the tip, tasting the salty bead there.
“Jesus, Sydney,” he growled, his hand gentle in my hair. “That feels incredible.”
I took him into my mouth, exploring carefully, my tongue learning as I went. His deep, guttural sounds spurred me on, heat pooling again as I moved.
But his hips jerked, and he eased me back. “Enough, baby. I’m not going to last much longer. Lie down.”
I shook my head, a spark of defiance igniting. “No. I want to be on top.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It might hurt more that way. You sure?”
“I can handle it,” I said, surprised by the certainty in my voice.
He settled back against the pillows, his body taut beneath me. I straddled him, guiding the tip to where I needed him. Slowly, I lowered myself, feeling the stretch, the sharp pinch that made me pause.
“Breathe,” he said, his hands steady on my hips. “Go slow. And touch yourself—it’ll help.”
Touch myself—
The idea made my pulse spike, but his heated gaze anchored me.
“Show me how?” I asked.
He guided my hand between my legs, pressing my fingers where I needed them most. “Like this. Slow circles. Feel how good it is.”
I gasped as pleasure flared, the pain blending with it as I lowered myself inch by inch. He filled me completely, stretching me in a way that felt overwhelming and right all at once.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice strained. “You’re doing so good. Keep touching yourself.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on sensation. The burn faded, turning into a deep, delicious fullness.
When I finally took him all the way, I moaned. My fingers moved faster, building that familiar tension, my other hand cupping my breast, experimenting.
“Fuck,” Kross groaned, his hands gripping my thighs. “You look so good like that. Take what you want.”
Knowing he liked it pushed me higher. I rocked my hips, grinding down, the friction exquisite. Pleasure coiled tight, my breaths coming in short pants.
“Oh god, Kross,” I whimpered.
“Come for me again,” he urged, meeting my movements. “I want to feel you.”
The second orgasm hit harder, my body shaking as pleasure tore through me. I cried out, my inner muscles clenching around him as wave after wave crashed over me.
He followed moments later, his hands digging into my hips as he thrust once more, a broken sound torn from his throat as he spilled inside me.
I collapsed onto his chest, both of us breathing hard. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.
“I’m glad I came to Wildwood Valley,” I whispered. “Glad I took the risk.”
He tightened his hold. “I’m glad too. More than glad.”
I drifted toward sleep in his arms, warm and safe, thinking this was what home was supposed to feel like.