“Yes. Open shelving, a big island.” She shifted to face him. “Built-ins around the fireplace. Window seat under the south window. Tile in the bathroom, not vinyl.”
“Gonna be a lot of work.” His eyes never left hers. “Months, maybe a year to do it right.”
“I’ve got time.” She leaned into him, her head fitting perfectly against his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
They fell silent, watching the light change across the dusty floor, imagining what could be. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer against the growing chill. In that moment, the cabin didn’t feel abandoned or broken—it felt like possibility. Like future.
She turned in his arms, found his mouth with hers. The kiss deepened, warming her from the inside out. His hands slid beneath her coat, fingers finding skin. Two weeks had done nothing to dull the hunger between them—if anything, it burned hotter now, fed by the comfort of knowing each other’s bodies, each other’s needs.
“Cold floor,” he murmured against her throat.
“Good thing we have a blanket.” She tugged at his coat. “And each other for warmth.”
Their clothes came off in stages—coats first, then sweaters, boots kicked aside. When he pulled her into his lap, she went willingly, straddling his thighs, her body shielding his scarred chest from the cabin’s chill. He took his time, hands tracing paths she’d learned to crave, mouth following where his fingers led.
“First time in our house,” she gasped as his teeth scraped gently against her collarbone. “Feels right.”
His laugh rumbled against her skin, making her shiver. “Marking our territory.”
He skimmed his hands down her sides, thumbs tracing the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist. She rocked against him, feeling him hard beneath her, wanting more. He unhooked her bra with practiced ease, his mouth finding her breast, tonguecircling her nipple until it tightened to a hard peak. She arched into him, fingers threading through his hair, holding him there.
“More,” she breathed, grinding down against him. “Need you inside me.”
He shifted, lowering her to the blanket, his body covering hers, sharing heat. His jeans and boxers joined the pile of discarded clothing, and then he was naked against her, skin to skin, his cock pressing hard against her thigh. He tugged at her leggings, sliding them down her legs along with her underwear, his hands warm against her cold skin.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, eyes drinking in the sight of her spread beneath him on the blanket. He settled between her thighs, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding down to tease her entrance. “So wet already.”
“Always for you.” She reached between them, wrapping her fingers around his length, guiding him toward her. “Want you now.”
He entered her slowly, inch by inch, watching her face as she took him in. The stretch and fill of him still took her breath away, still made her gasp and clutch at his shoulders. When he was fully seated, he paused, letting her adjust, letting her feel the weight and heat of him inside her.
“Mine,” he whispered against her lips, and she knew he meant more than just her body. He meant her heart, her future, her trust. Everything she’d given him. Everything he’d earned.
“Yours,” she agreed, lifting her hips to meet his first thrust. “And you’re mine.”
They moved together on the dusty floor of what would be their home, finding a rhythm as familiar as breathing. His strokes were deep and measured, each one drawing a soft sound from her throat. She wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle, taking him deeper. His breath hitched, his control slipping.
“Fuck, Maggie.” His pace quickened, hips snapping against hers. “Feel so good around me. So tight.”
She dug her nails into his back, urging him on. “Harder. Make me come.”
He shifted his weight to one arm, the other hand sliding between them to circle her clit with his thumb. The dual sensations—his cock filling her, his thumb working over her most sensitive spot—pushed her rapidly toward the edge. Her thighs tightened around him, her body tensing as pleasure coiled low in her belly.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice rough with need. “Come on my cock, Mags. Let me feel you.”
The command tipped her over. She came with a cry, her body clenching around him in rhythmic pulses, wave after wave of pleasure washing through her. He fucked her through it, never slowing, drawing out her orgasm until she was gasping, oversensitive, clutching at his arms.
Only when she’d gone limp beneath him did his rhythm falter, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. She wrapped her legs tighter, holding him deep, whispering encouragement against his ear. “Come for me. Fill me up.”
With a groan that echoed in the empty cabin, he came, his body shuddering against hers, inside hers. He collapsed against her, careful to keep most of his weight on his forearms, his face pressed to the crook of her neck. For long moments, they didn’t move, just breathed together in the growing darkness, sweat cooling on their skin.
Finally, he rolled to the side, bringing her with him, tucking her against his chest. She traced idle patterns across his skin, fingertips following the lines of his scars, the rise and fall of his ribs. Outside, the first stars had appeared, visible through the grimy windows. Bramble had wandered back in at somepoint and now lay a few feet away, his back to them in canine discretion.
“We should head back soon,” he murmured, though he made no move to get up. “Before it gets too dark.”
“Mm.” She snuggled closer, reluctant to leave this perfect moment. “Five more minutes.”
His hand smoothed down her back, fingertips tracing her spine. “Could light a fire next time. Bring more blankets.”
