Chapter 4
LAURYN
I want to lose my virginity tonight. The second I said those words, something shifted between us. Not tension exactly, but focus. Intent.
Blade’s breath left him in a low rush, his hand still cradling my cheek like I was a secret he hadn’t dared hope for. His thumb brushed over my skin once, slow and tender, then his mouth was on mine again, softer this time, slower, like he was trying to pace himself.
But the heat between us was impossible to ignore.
My whole body buzzed beneath his touch. I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t second-guessing anything. All I wanted was him. His hands. His mouth. His weight pressing me down into the blanket-lined bed of his truck.
His hand slid up beneath my shirt again, but he took his time, learning every inch of me like he’d never get the chance again. His touch made me ache. He kissed me like we had forever, even though the tension in his shoulders said he was barely holding it together.
When he tugged my shirt up, I lifted my arms to help him. The night air kissed my skin, but I didn’t feel cold—not with the way he looked at me.
“You’re unreal,” he murmured, his voice raw.
He lowered his head and kissed along my collarbone, then down to the curve of my breast. The moment his mouth brushed over my nipple, I gasped and grabbed his shoulders, hips lifting slightly before I could stop myself. I felt the answering groan rumble through his chest.
I’d never felt anything like this. Never imagined it could be so overwhelming—so good.
He shifted over me, one arm braced beside my head. He glanced at me for a heartbeat—just a flicker of silent permission—and I nodded, my chest rising and falling in anticipation.
He eased down my shorts, slow and careful, kissing the inside of my thigh once they were off. I was too far gone to be shy. All I could think about was the way he was making me feel, the heat gathering low in my belly, the throb of anticipation building between my legs.
He kissed me again—deep and tender—and slid my panties down, his fingers grazing my thighs, my hips, like every part of me was sacred. My breath hitched when he settled between my legs, the rough fabric of his shorts brushing against the inside of my thighs. I wanted them gone.
I clumsily shoved down his shorts and underwear, and he let me, watching me with an intensity that made my cheeks burn. When I finally freed him, he groaned, kissing me again as he pressed our foreheads together.
“Lauryn…” he whispered, his voice wrecked and reverent.
I nodded, curling my fingers around his biceps. “Please.”
He moved away from me, still staying low but maneuvering until he could grab his wallet. He extracted a foil packet, and I couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped me. He raised his eyebrows.
“What?”
“Just…of course you came prepared,” I teased, my voice breathless.
“You’re the only one I’ve wanted to be prepared for,” he said without missing a beat.
And somehow, that made my chest squeeze even tighter.
He kissed me again—slower this time, achingly tender—while he took care of the condom. Then he was back, hovering over me, his hand sliding between us as he lined himself up.
I held my breath. He kissed me again as he started to push in, slow and careful, giving me time to adjust. The stretch was intense—more than I expected—but it wasn’t painful. Just…unfamiliar. I tensed without meaning to, and he froze instantly.
His forehead rested against mine, his voice low and ragged. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
I shook my head, focusing on the way his thumb brushed over my hip. “Just go slow.”
He did. Bit by bit, he eased deeper, pausing whenever my body stiffened, kissing me through every inch. And when he was finally fully inside me, his breath caught and his hands trembled where they held my waist.
“Jesus, Lauryn.”
I wrapped my arms around him, my legs too, like I wanted to hold him there forever. He stayed still for a long moment, letting me adjust, kissing my temple, my cheek, my lips. And when I finally shifted my hips, silently giving him permission, he moved.
Slow. Gentle. Reverent.
He lowered his head to resume our kiss as his right hand slid down my waist and over my thigh. When he traced a line up the inside, I knew exactly what he was doing. Did he think he could bring me to orgasm again, or was this a way to take my mind off the pain?
Either way, it wasn’t going to work. That was what I said to myself as his finger found that ultra-sensitive nub and began moving over it.
But within a minute or so, it became clear that it actually did distract me from the pain.
Maybe it was just enough pleasure to counteract it.
Whatever the case, I decided to focus on what his touch was doing to me rather than the sharp pain that was coming from deeper inside me.
And soon I felt heat expanding—starting in that part of my body and moving outward.
He was staying fairly close to my entrance, probably scared to go too deep, and I knew if I opened my eyes, I’d find him with his jaw clenched, eyes closed, struggling to hold back.
Or maybe he had his eyes carefully trained on my face, looking for signs that I might be in pain.
I didn’t want to look. I just wanted to feel.
Soon, that now-familiar pressure began building inside me. Was it possible? Oh, yes. Definitely.
I bit my lip to avoid making any noise as I moved my hands to his waist, then his hips, then his ass—reminding myself just how hot this guy was. My mountain man. The one who pledged to marry me without even meeting me.
I was climbing. I was feeling that now-familiar sensation—the warmth spreading through my body, my breaths coming faster, the feeling that nothing in the world mattered but this moment. But me and my mountain man fiancé.
“Blade,” I whispered, the word whooshing out of me like I was born to say it.
He stiffened between my legs, and I wondered if he’d hit his climax at the same time I had. It made sense. But then all thought was wiped out as my body was flooded with sensations.
I tilted my head back and tightened my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. I barely felt the pain, the pleasure was so intense.
He began pumping faster as my orgasm reached its end. I’d be sore tomorrow, but I didn’t care. It was all well worth it, and I had a lifetime of making love to this man—the man I’d been born to love.
With a barely suppressed grunt, he stilled, and I opened my eyes to find him—eyes closed, jaw clenched, head back. But something had changed.
I couldn’t explain it at first. Couldn’t name it. But I felt it like a cold breeze between warm sheets. His whole body was still pressed against mine, but it suddenly felt like the part of him I couldn’t touch—the quiet, secret part—was already pulling away.
He opened his eyes slowly, and when they met mine, I felt it like a punch to the chest. Not anger. Not regret. Just…something I couldn’t read. And that was worse.
He looked at me like he was trying to figure something out. Like maybe he’d made a mistake. Like maybe I was a mistake.
I froze, breath caught in my throat, terrified of what he was about to say. Don’t ruin this , I thought. Please don’t ruin this .
But before a single word left his mouth, a strange musical sound interrupted—his phone, somewhere in the tangle of his shorts. He pulled away from me and reached to the side, grabbing the bundle of fabric and fishing out his phone with one hand.
I sat up slowly, crossing my arms over my chest more for comfort than modesty.
My pulse pounded in my ears. I didn’t know what had just happened, but I suddenly felt like I was back on the edge of uncertainty.
Like everything that had just happened between us was about to be unraveled with a single sentence.
His eyes scanned the screen, then his whole body tensed again.
“What is it?” I asked quietly, bracing myself.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead, then looked at me with a lopsided, apologetic smile. “It’s my aunt. I’m needed at the inn. Now.”
Relief and confusion crashed together in my chest. “Is everything okay?”
“I think so.” He slid his phone back into his pocket, leaned forward, and kissed my forehead. “It’s probably something ridiculous, like a broken water pipe or an angry tourist. But I do have to go.”
I nodded, still unsure. “Okay.”
He looked at me a second longer, like he was deciding how much to say. Then he kissed me again—this time on the lips, sweet and slow.
“I know I probably look like I’m freaking out,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “But I’m not. I’m just…overwhelmed. In a good way.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “You’re kind of amazing, Lauryn. And I don’t want tonight to be over.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. “Me either.”
“But,” he said, nudging his nose against mine, “since I’m being yanked back to innkeeper duty, how about a rain check? Same time, same place—except next time, we actually watch the movie?”
I laughed, tension easing from my shoulders. “Deal.”
He grinned, and that boyish, lopsided smile of his wrapped around something inside me and squeezed tight.
Blade slid his shorts back on and reached for my clothes, helping me dress with the same gentle care he’d shown me all night. Once we were both decent and back in the cab, he reached across the bench seat, laced our fingers together, and kissed the back of my hand.
Whatever that shadow had been on his face—whatever shift I’d seen—I pushed it aside for now. We were engaged. We’d made love. And even if something had flickered through his eyes just before his phone went off, I believed him when he said it was okay.
It had to be. Because after tonight, there was no going back. And I didn’t want to.