"That was worth waiting for." She presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth.
"More than worth it." I roll us onto our sides, staying connected, her leg hooked over my hip. "Give me twenty minutes and I'll show you what else I've been thinking about for the past three days."
"Twenty minutes?" She raises an eyebrow. "Is that a promise?"
"It's a guarantee."
She laughs, the sound light and free and so different from the guarded woman who stumbled out of that SUV two weeks ago. I tuck her hair behind her ear, studying her face in the low light.
"I'm in trouble," I say.
"What kind of trouble?"
"The kind where I don't want to let you go. The kind where I'm already thinking about ways to keep you here even after the trial."
"That's not trouble." She traces my jaw with her fingertip. "That's just you finally catching up to where I've been for days."
"You've been thinking about staying?"
"I've been thinking about not wanting to leave." She meets my eyes. "This started as survival. But somewhere along the way, it became something else."
"What?"
"Home." She says it simply, like it's obvious. "You feel like home, Deck. This cabin, this mountain, you. It feels like where I'm supposed to be."
My throat tightens. I kiss her because I don't have words for what she's making me feel. She kisses me back, soft and sweet, and when we break apart, she's looking at me like I'm something worth keeping.
"Twenty minutes?" she asks.
I glance down at my cock, already stirring back to life. "Might be closer to ten."
"Even better." She pushes me onto my back and swings her leg over, straddling me. "This time I'm on top."
She sinks down onto me, still wet, still tight, and we both groan at the sensation as my cock stands back at attention. She sets a slow rhythm, her hands braced on my chest, her breasts swaying with each movement.
I grip her hips and let her ride me, watching the pleasure play across her face. She's beautiful like this—in control, chasing her own pleasure, using my body to get what she needs.
"Touch me," she breathes.
My hand slides between us, finding her clit. She gasps and picks up the pace, grinding down harder, her movements growing frantic.
"Come for me." I rub her in tight circles, matching her rhythm. "Let me feel you."
She comes with a cry, her body shuddering, her pussy clenching around me. I thrust up into her through it, prolonging her orgasm until she's trembling and gasping.
Then I flip her onto her back and fuck her through a third, taking my own pleasure this time, driving into her with single-minded focus until I come again with her name on my lips.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, too exhausted to move. She's draped across my chest, her breathing slow and steady, her body heavy with satisfaction.
"Stay," I murmur against her hair. "Not just tonight. Stay."
"Okay," she whispers back.
It's not a promise of forever. We both know there are still trials ahead, literal and figurative. But for now, in this bed, in this moment, it's enough.
She's enough.
And for the first time in years, so am I.
