I giggle, and he kisses me again, this time, moving over me as I lie back. The weight of him on top of me steals my breath. Not from the weight, but from the comfort of feeling him there, like he was made to fit there. I wrap my legs around him and feel it—he’s hard already for me.
There’s a faint voice in the back of my mind that says this is a bad idea. That I should ask about protection or STI status or something. I’m never this reckless. It’s completely unlike me.
But when his rough hands skate all over my skin, I’m blissed out. I barely know my own name, much less how to gracefully ask about those things. And then he reaches into my underwear. His touch sends a shock through me, and I roll against his fingertips until I’m shaking. His voice is low and raw. “Gotta get these clothes off of you.”
“The jeans,” I point out.
“Sorry,” he says as he works them off. “Got distracted by your tits.”
I giggle again, while I take off the last of my clothes. And then, it’s just us. Skin against skin, mouth on mouth. He lays his cock against me there, sliding up and down my wetness. It’selectric, and I could almost get off like this alone. But I want more.
He freezes up. “You’re sure?—”
“Yes! Are you?”
“Fuck yes,” he growls as he slowly enters me.
The stretch of him intoxicates me. I shake and shudder beneath him, and then on top of him when he rolls us over. The way he fills me up is too good. His hands wander over my tits at first, cupping, massaging. But then he reaches down between us, thumbing my clit as I ride him, and I see stars. My voice shakes worse than I do. “Close?—”
“Come on my cock. I want to feel it.”
I shatter on him and collapse into his arms, and for a quiet moment, he holds me there until I catch my breath. Then he rolls his hips upward as he grabs my ass. I’m too hazy to do much of anything at the moment. “I can’t?—”
“I’ve got you.” He takes over, launching himself into me from underneath, a madman possessed. His inches glide along my G-spot with every thrust, and I’m shaking again, heat coiling in me.
I whisper over his pec, “Oh, God.”
“Close again?” he grunts.
All I can do is nod.
He doesn’t answer with words. He answers with his body, charging into me harder and faster until I erupt again. His sounds go ragged as he joins me, pulling out to come between our slick bodies.
Later, when the cabin is quiet, we lie tangled together on the bed, wrapped in warmth and the aftershock of something that feels bigger than one time should. His arm is heavy around my waist. My cheek fits against his chest like it was always meant to.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” he murmurs into my hair, the words rough, almost disbelieving.
Neither have I.
Sleep takes us like a blessing, hearts still racing, limbs still intertwined. For now, nothing else exists. Not tomorrow. Not consequences. Just us.
In the morning, I wake before the fire fully dies, the room washed in soft gray light and embers glowing low. Aiden is still asleep beside me, one arm heavy around my waist, his breathing slow and even. In sleep, he looks younger somehow. Less guarded. The lines between his brows have eased, his mouth relaxed instead of set like it usually is.
I trace the edge of his shoulder with my eyes and let myself imagine things I probably shouldn’t. Morning coffee together. A drive back to Columbus that doesn’t feel like an ending. The possibility that last night meant something more than a beautiful accident. Hope settles in my chest, warm and terrifying. But also, somehow, comforting.
His phone buzzes on the floor beside us. Once. Twice. He stirs, groans softly, then opens his eyes—and sees me.
The shift is instant.
His body goes rigid. His arm drops away from me like he’s been burned. Panic flashes across his face so fast it takes my breath with it. He reaches for his phone, swipes the screen, and I watch his expression close off piece by piece. Carlie.
I can’t stop myself. “Everything okay?”
He exhales hard, scrubbing a hand over his face. “This…” He sits up, pulling the blanket around his waist, putting distance between us that didn’t exist seconds ago. “This was a mistake.”
The words land like a slap. “What?”
“You’re Carlie’s friend,” he continues, not meeting my eyes. “You’re too young. You have your whole life ahead of you, and I—” He cuts himself off, jaw tight. “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
