Yeah. We’re absolutely getting another dog tomorrow.
I huff a quiet laugh, and then we all just sit there and watch the fire, listening to the popping sounds it makes. I stroke Amelia’s back, and after a while, her weight settles heavily against me, her breaths slowing and evening. The fire pops some more, and the stars blink on one by one, seemingly in tune with her.
“Looks like Bug’s birthday was exhausting,” Misha says softly, his adoring gaze raking over her before he turns and pokes the logs, making it spark.
“It’s exhausting to be this happy,” I whisper back, then press my lips to her temple.
The air is cool and sharp with pine as I surface slowly from the kind of deep sleep that feels like sinking into warm honey. The world is dark, and I realize I’m being carried. Oliver’s arms are under me, his heartbeat a steady thump, thump thump against my ear.
The gentle sway of his steps rocks me like a cradle, and I’m half-drifting again by the time he lowers me onto a sleeping bag. The fabric is soft but cold, and the sudden chill snaps me fully awake, my eyes flying open. But then his mouth finds mine, and my eyes drift shut again.
The kiss is slow, sleepy, perfect. A lazy slide of lips, warm and sweet with leftover marshmallow and chocolate. I make a small,needy sound and chase his tongue with mine, as I slide my hands under the hem of his shirt on pure instinct. His skin is furnace-hot, and his muscles shift under my palms as I map the line of his spine, then the curve of his shoulder blades. He shivers when my nails drag lightly back down, and the soft catch in his breath makes me smile against his mouth.
“My Fave,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep and want. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, our glasses clinking against each other. “You’re awake.”
“Barely,” I whisper, and nip his bottom lip. “Keep going.”
The kiss turns deeper, hungrier. His tongue strokes mine in that careful, reverent way he has, and I can’t help the way my hips roll up to meet his. He’s half-hard already, pressing against my thigh through his jeans, and the friction sends a slow, liquid spark straight to my core.
I hook one leg around his hip, pulling him down so he settles fully between my thighs. The weight of him is perfect, and he groans into my mouth when I rock up again, dragging myself along the length of him. The layers between us are suddenly infuriating.
“Amelia,” he breathes out, breaking the kiss to mouth along my jaw, my throat. His hips roll in answer, grinding against me until I’m panting into his neck. Every drag of his cock against my clit, even through fabric, feels like a promise.
I tug at his shirt again, more insistent. “Off.”
He sits back on his heels just long enough to yank it over his head, glasses going slightly askew. The lantern outside casts golden light through the tent wall, painting soft shadows over his chest and the lean lines of his abs. I reach for him, fingers tracing the faint trail of hair below his navel, and he shivers again.
“Your turn,” he says, before he helps me peel off my own layers until cool air hits my bare skin and goose bumps race across my chest. My nipples tighten instantly.
Oliver’s eyes go dark behind his lenses. “Fuck. I mean, I love the sight, but it’s freezing. You’ll be cold.”
I smile, pulling him back down. “Then keep me warm.”
He makes a helpless sound and crashes his mouth to mine again. This time, there’s no hesitation. His hands are everywhere, thumbs brushing my nipples until I arch into him, sliding down to grip my hips and angle me exactly where he wants. Our mouths fuse, teeth clacking once before we find the rhythm. I can’t stop moving under him, grinding up in tiny, needy circles, making him groan into my mouth.
“God, you feel good,” he whispers against my lips, hips rolling harder. The thick line of his cock drags over my clit again and again, the friction perfect and maddening. I’m soaked already, I can feel it, feel him twitching through his jeans every time I moan.
I hook my fingers in his waistband, tugging. “Want you.”
He pulls back just enough to search my face, pupils blown wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I breathe out, and rock up hard enough we both gasp.
He kisses me once more, then sits back to open his jeans and shove them down. I wriggle out of my leggings and panties in the same motion, kicking them somewhere into the corner of the relatively big tent. The cold air hits my bare skin, and I shiver, but then Oliver’s back, warm and solid, settling over me like a blanket.
His mouth finds mine again as he grinds against me, skin-to-skin now, cock hot and slick against my folds. I wrap both legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him closer, faster. We’re both breathing hard, kisses turning sloppy and desperate.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips, and that’s all it takes.
He reaches between us, guiding himself, and then he’s pushing in, slow and perfect, stretching me open inch by inch.I moan into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, and he stills, letting me adjust, forehead pressed to mine.
“Love you,” he whispers, voice trembling.
“Love you,” I echo, and roll my hips to take him deeper.
The tent zipper rasps behind us, and Misha’s voice floats in, amused. “Hey, you’re having all the fun without us? That’s what we get for putting out the fire like responsible adults.”
Grey ducks in right after, eyes going dark the second he sees me naked and squirming beneath Oliver. “Started without us, Princess?”
