She’s beautiful like this, and there are three words teetering on the tip of my tongue that I can’t say out loud. I know if I do it will ruin whatever is happening between us right now.
So instead I thread my fingers through her curly hair and fist it at the root, lining my cock up with her drenched pussy and shoving my way inside.
The force of my first thrust takes her breath. I stay there for a moment, fully seated and not moving as I give her a chance to adjust to my size at this angle.
When she wiggles her ass, silently begging me to move, I bring my hand down hard on her ass.
She groans at the impact and her pussy squeezes me so fucking tight I feel like I might combust on the spot, so I do it again.
I massage her ass cheek. It’s red and angry and the sight of my mark on her fucks me all the way up.
I pound into her, relentless. All I want is to fill her to the fucking brim and watch it drip out of her pussy onto the sheets.
Just picturing the image in my mind has me spilling into her again.
I come so hard my legs go temporarily numb, and my vision goes hazy around the edges.
She takes every drop and I stay inside her, half hard, when I slip my hand between her thighs and make her come again.
Her pussy flutters around my cock in next to no time at all, and all I can think is how those three orgasms might make her sleep long enough for me to hold her through the night without her waking up to try and distance herself from me again.
12
AS LONG AS WE HAVE THE FIREWOOD AND EACHOTHER
EZRA
It feelslike the atmosphere itself is bracing for impact, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. The air is heavy, dense with the promise of rain, and I swear I can feel the static crackling along my skin, a warning of what’s to come.
I can feel the storm rolling in before the sky even darkens. It’s there in the shift of the wind, in the way the temperature drops just enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. The island feels different—like it’s holding its breath.
My stomach churns as restlessly as the water beating against the shore at the thought of Kruz being stuck here during a storm. I will be fine—I’ve been through worse, weathered worse—but she’s different. She doesn’t belong here, not like I do. And I will make sure she is fine, no matter what. But neither of those facts will assuage her anxiety.
Who knows? Maybe she’ll roll with it. Maybe she’ll surprise me, take it in stride like she has with everything else.
She’s been mostly fine with being kidnapped, after all. That thought shouldn’t amuse me, but it does, a dry, humorless smirk tugging at my lips before I shake it off.
Just outside the cottage, I squint into the growing gusts, the wind stinging my eyes as I assess the sky. The clouds are thickening, stretching over the horizon like ink bleeding into water, swallowing the last traces of daylight.
The waves crash harder against the rocks below the pier, its usual rhythm replaced by something more erratic, more violent.
It’s going to be a rough night.
I check the small shed behind the cabin where we keep firewood and drag a couple of crates of it inside to stack by the hearth. The wood is dry for now, but the air is damp enough that I can already smell the rain coming.
I’ve kept the fire going for most of our time here, its steady glow a small comfort in a situation that offers few. But I want to make sure we are fully prepared if I’m unable to make it back out to restock us during the storm. The last thing I need is for the fire to die out when the power inevitably cuts off, leaving us in the cold, in the dark.
The thought of being trapped here with Kruz, cut off from the rest of the world, sends a wave of unease through me.
I ignore it, shoving another log into the hearth before wiping my hands on my jeans. It’s just a storm. We’ll get through it.
Who knows how long it will last? Storms out here have a way of lingering, stretching on for hours, sometimes even days. The generator isn’t always reliable, sputtering out at the worst possible moments, and if it goes down, we’ll need every bit of warmth we can get. The solar panels only provide electricity for as long as the sun provides light, and the sky is already growing darker by the minute, the thickening clouds swallowing the last traces of daylight.
I rub a hand over my jaw, glancing toward the horizon. There’s a heaviness in the air, an eerie stillness beneath the rising wind, like the island itself is waiting.
I head down to the beach to find Kruz. She left not long ago for a walk, probably needing a moment alone after everything. I get it—I do—but I don’t like the idea of her being out there with the storm creeping in. I’m surprised she hasn’t already started making her way back with the shift in the atmosphere.
The gusts pick up, stronger now, kicking up loose sand and forcing me to adjust my jacket tighter around me. The fabric rustles against the force of it, the chill sinking in despite the layers.
