Chapter 5
Chapter five
Nathan
The fire has settled into a steady, low glow.
Orange light moves slowly across the walls and over Katy’s skin, turning everything soft and golden.
She is curled against my chest on the couch, her head resting right over my heart, one leg draped across mine beneath the heavy wool blanket.
Bear snores quietly on the rug in front of the hearth, completely unaware that the silence I once clung to like armor is being rewritten in this very moment.
Her fingers draw slow, absent circles over my sternum, right through the thin cotton of my thermal. Every pass sends warmth spreading outward from the point of contact. I can feel her heartbeat against my ribs, steady and slightly quick. Mine answers in the same uneven rhythm.
I press my lips to the crown of her head and breathe her in her vanilla scent, a faint trace of woodsmoke, the clean warmth of her skin.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She tilts her face up. Her green eyes catch the firelight and hold it. “More than okay,” she answers, voice soft and a little rough. “I’m perfect.”
The word lands somewhere deep inside me. I believe her. Completely.
I lower my head and kiss her. It begins gently, just the slow press of lips, the quiet exchange of breath.
She sighs against my mouth, a small sound that travels straight through my chest. Her hand slides up to cradle my jaw, thumb brushing the edge of my beard.
The kiss deepens naturally, tongues touching, tasting, lingering.
She makes another soft, needy noise, and something inside me gives way.
My hands move of their own accord, sliding down her back, learning the gentle curve of her spine, the flare of her hips beneath the sweater. She arches into my touch, pressing herself closer, and I feel the heat of her body through our clothes.
I pull back far enough to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and shining, eyes dark with want.
“Tell me to stop,” I say, voice low and rough. “Anytime. Just say the word.”
She shakes her head. Her fingers slide into my hair. “Don’t stop. Please, Nathan, don’t stop.”
I kiss her again, deeper now, hungrier. I ease her back against the couch cushions.
She goes willingly, pulling me down with her until I am settled between her thighs.
The blanket slips away. I brace myself on one forearm and use my other hand to slowly push her sweater up, revealing soft skin that glows in the firelight.
She is beautiful. Every curve, every gentle swell, every inch of her.
I trail my mouth down her throat, tasting the faint salt of her skin, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse beneath my tongue.
She gasps when I nip lightly at the place where neck meets shoulder, then soothes the spot with slow, open-mouthed kisses.
My hand slips beneath her bra. I cup her breast, thumb circling the nipple until it tightens.
She arches, whispering my name like it is the only word she remembers.
“You are so beautiful,” I murmur against her collarbone. “So soft. So perfect.”
I push the sweater higher, kissing every new inch of skin I uncover: the center of her chest, the gentle rise of her breasts, the tender valley between them.
When I tug the bra down and take one nipple into my mouth, she cries out, sharp and surprised.
I suck gently at first, then with more pressure, rolling the peak with my tongue while my hand kneads the other breast.
Her fingers tighten in my hair, holding me there. “Nathan,” she breathes. “God, yes.”
I move to the other side, giving it the same careful attention, worshipping her slowly, deliberately, until she is trembling beneath me, hips rocking in small, helpless motions.
I kiss lower, across the soft plane of her stomach. I trace the dip of her waist with my thumbs, then hook my fingers into the waistband of her jeans.
“Look at me,” I say.
She does. Her eyes are glassy, lips parted, chest rising and falling quickly.
“I want to taste you,” I tell her. “I want to feel you come on my tongue. I want to make you shake.”
Her breath catches. “Yes. Please.”
I unbutton her jeans and draw them down her thighs along with her panties. Slowly. Reverently. When she is bare before me, legs parted, skin flushed from chest to thighs, I pause. I let myself look. Really look. She is breathtaking.
I settle between her legs, shoulders spreading her wider, and begin with slow kisses along the inside of her knee, then higher, trailing open-mouthed caresses up her inner thigh. She trembles beneath my mouth. I can smell how aroused she is, sweet and heady.
When I finally put my mouth on her, she arches off the couch with a broken moan.
I lick slowly. Long, flat strokes from bottom to top, savoring every drop of her. She tastes incredible. I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, then suck gently, feeling her thighs quiver around my head.
Her hands fist in my hair. “Nathan…”
I slide one finger inside her, slow and careful, groaning at how tight and wet she feels. She clenches around me immediately. I add a second finger, curling them upward to find that sensitive place inside her. I stroke it in time with the movement of my tongue on her clit. Steady. Relentless.
She is panting now, hips rocking against my face, chasing the pleasure. I suck harder, fingers thrusting deeper, curling again and again.
“Come for me,” I murmur against her. “Let me feel it. Let me taste it.”
She shatters. Her back bows. A ragged cry tears from her throat. She pulses hot and wet around my fingers, thighs shaking. I work her through every wave, slowing my tongue and fingers only when her grip on my hair turns gentle, pleading.
I crawl back up her body, kissing every place I pass. Stomach. Breasts. Throat. When I reach her mouth, I kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on my tongue. She moans into the kiss, hands fumbling at my belt.
“Need you,” she whispers. “Inside me. Please, Nathan.”
I stand long enough to strip off my clothes, then grab a condom from my wallet on the coffee table. She watches me roll it on, eyes dark with hunger and trust.
When I settle back between her thighs, I notch myself at her entrance and hold her gaze.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” I say.
She cups my face with both hands. “It won’t be. I want all of you.”
I push in slowly. Carefully. Inch by inch. Groaning at the tight, wet heat that surrounds me. She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders. When I am fully seated, we both pause, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
“You okay?” I ask, voice rough.
“Perfect,” she whispers. She kisses me softly. “Move.”
I do.
At first, the rhythm is slow. Deep, rolling thrusts that make her sigh every time I bottom out. Then faster. Harder. She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper.
“You feel so good,” she gasps. “So big. So perfect.”
I kiss her neck. Her jaw. Her mouth. Messy. Desperate. One hand slips between us. My thumb finds her clit, circling in time with my thrusts.
She tightens around me again, already climbing. “Nathan, don’t stop.”
“Never,” I growl against her ear. “Not until you come again. I want to feel you milk me.”
I angle deeper, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. My thumb moves faster. Her nails rake down my back. Then she is there. Shattering around me. Pulsing hot and tight. Crying my name into my shoulder.
I follow right after. Hips slamming deep one last time. Growling her name as pleasure rips through me, emptying into the condom in long, shuddering pulses.
We collapse together. Sweaty. Breathless. Tangled. I roll us so she is draped across my chest, still inside her, softening slowly.
She presses lazy kisses to my collarbone. “That was…”
“Yeah,” I finish. “Yeah.”
We lie there in the afterglow. Fire crackling low. Snow tapping the windows. I trace slow circles on her back, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against mine.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” I admit quietly.
She lifts her head. Eyes soft. “Like what?”
“Like I’m finally home.”
Her smile is everything. She kisses me slowly, sweetly.
“Welcome home, Nathan.”
I pull her closer, tucking her against me under the blanket.
The quiet isn’t empty anymore, because she is here.