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ZEKE

I feel it when she shatters beneath my touch, her entire body seizing with an electrifying intensity—a symphony of sensation crashing through her. Her hips jerk violently, an involuntary dance of raw desire, while her thighs quiver uncontrollably like autumn leaves caught in a hurricane.

Each breath explodes into desperate gasps, spilling into the air with an ethereal resonance, as though something sacred is being unleashed. She screams my name, a sound that reverberates through the charged atmosphere between us, and I hold her firmly, grounding her as relentless waves of ecstasy surge through her.

I refuse to hurry her through this exquisite unraveling; I want her to feel every thundering pulse echoing like a distant storm, every deliberate drag of my tongue tracing pathways of fire, every precise flick of pressure that sends shivers cascading down her spine. I want her to remember this moment forever, as if carving it into stone—to know what it’s like to be utterly dismantled by someone who genuinely cherishes their work, someone who understands devoted artistry and the beauty of surrender.

As her body finally surrenders under my relentless touch, I know I’ve etched an indelible mark on her soul. In the most profound way imaginable.

Sadie arches, her spine a perfect, graceful arc, and cries out my name as if it’s the only word she can recall. I revel in every second of her surrender—memorizing each tremble and gasp, the exact way her fingers grasp the sheets with frantic desperation. That orgasm, a reckless masterpiece of beauty, belongs to me. I forged it for her. And now that I’ve witnessed this, felt this, I crave more. I yearn to claim every part of her, to possess her entirely.

She's still trembling when I finally pull back, my lips glistening with her honey, my jaw tense with the effort of holding back. I plant a lingering kiss on the tender inside of her thigh, then trace another gentle kiss along the soft curve of her hip. Her skin is a tapestry of warmth, flushed and slightly damp, radiating heat that seeps into my palms. Her eyes are closed, her lips slightly parted, her chest heaving with rapid breaths. She looks utterly undone—in the most exquisite way imaginable.

“Zeke…” she whispers with her eyes closed and skin aglow, her breath still catching on the edges of her voice. Her soft limbs collapse beneath her, every muscle sinking into the mattress, wholly undone.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” I murmur back, my voice a low promise as my lips begin their slow pilgrimage up her belly, leaving trails of sensation in their wake, lingering as they discover each of the places where she responds most fully.

I savor the softness of her skin, the warmth beneath it, kissing each rib and curve with the kind of devotion only she can draw out of me. I can feel her heart race then slow, her ragged breath hitch as I tease her with light brushes of my mouth, gently anchoring her back to me with every touch, every whisper.

“That was my orgasm. They’re all mine from now on, and I’ll make sure you get plenty of them. You know that, don’t you?”

She’s caught somewhere in that fragile space between awareness and ecstasy. Her head tips sideways, then back, a slow and hazy nod that carries both confirmation and surrender.

“Good,” I say, voice lower now, rougher and demanding. “Because now it’s my turn.”

We reach for each other, nothing else mattering in this moment. Her fingers find my hair, my shoulders, every movement charged with promise. Sadie’s eyes close as she pulls me up until every boundary disappears.

I cover her body with mine, her warmth and softness igniting a pulse of urgency between us. Lips meet lips, hungry for more, eager to take all they can from this breathless, stolen time. Hands press skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Every stroke and every touch starts to melt everything else away. We arch closer, tighter, tangled bodies, finding our rhythm with all the urgency of our need. We are breath mingling and harmonizing, taking over and devouring. We are...

My mouth traces feverish kisses along her body, every movement charged with raw, deliberate passion. My lips press searing kisses along the smooth curve of her hip, then follow the fragile line of her stomach. Her skin shimmers with a damp, heated flush, pulsing with the lingering embers of our previous fire. She tastes of sweat and sugar, intertwined with a hint of Sadie—a flavor that promises to haunt my every craving.

Hovering above her, I anchor myself with one hand beside her head while the other boldly explores her inner thigh, setting her perfectly in place. Her eyes surrender to closed bliss as her chest rises, electrified with anticipation.

Her fingers grip my shoulders hard as I settle deeply between her thighs. Lifting my gaze, I find hers already locked onto me—unyielding, raw, and exposed, her parted lips and heaving chest laying bare an unmasked desire.

"Zeke..." she breathes, the word dripping pure, unspoken permission rather than doubt.

I grip her thighs with determined insistence, gently prying them open wider as I slide upward, my body following the slick, heated track between her legs. My forearm braces beside her head while the other guides my hard length into perfect alignment. In an instant, her legs curl around me like desperate vines, as though they have been waiting for the moment I fill the void, aching for release.

Her eyes close again.

"No," I growl—a low, commanding edge of dominance. I press the head of my arousal against her inviting entrance, teasing with the promise of that first stretching flood. "Eyes on me," I demand.

Immediately, she lifts her gaze—wide, dark, raw with unfiltered longing. My breath catches as I lose myself in that fierce stare. There is no hiding in those eyes; she exposes every part of herself, giving more than I ever thought possible. That profound trust smashes into me like a powerful blow to the chest.

And I answer it.

I thrust into her with a single, powerful stroke, sinking deep within her. The gasp that explodes from her lips slams into me like a searing, incendiary bullet. Her hands claw at my back, nails raking over my muscles as I pause long enough for her to drink in the full, intoxicating presence of me—the overwhelming stretch that binds us in that moment of unadulterated intensity.

"Jesus, Sadie..." I murmur, my voice rough with unrestrained desire. "You feel like heaven."

Her hips begin a slow and deliberate dance, moving with a wildness that is both precise and primal, each calculated motion drawing me deeper into the kind of breathless wanting I can scarcely endure.

Her eyes close as I drive into her slowly, my pace languid at first, her body swaying like a serpent, then tightening around me with a force that sends shivers up my spine. A soft, breathy sigh escapes her lips, and it takes everything I have not to lose myself completely. The air between us is charged, her movements becoming more insistent, wrapping me in her lingering wet heat. And I am at once lost and found.

Sadie moans, softly at first, then louder, the rhythm building, and all my senses are ablaze, alive with the feeling of her. I can barely hang on to the need to hold back, barely keep myself from letting go in that raw, explosive moment when everything within me wants to surrender to this burning, beautiful madness.

She is all around me, irresistibly tight, calling me to let go, daring me to lose control, and I don't know how much longer I can keep from falling, how much longer I can keep from giving in. A desperate thrill runs through me, my self-control unraveling, my last defenses crumbling, until finally I lose my battle entirely, completely at her mercy.

"Zeke," she gasps again—a raw, aching sound that sends shivers cascading down my spine.

I pull back just enough to catch a soft, yearning whimper from her before plunging back in—deeper, harder. With every measured thrust, she devours me with fervent hunger. Her breath shudders against my mouth as I set a relentless rhythm—fast, punishing, and utterly unyielding; not reckless, but desperately needy. It’s as if this moment has been written in the stars ever since I first saw her in that sunlit café, with flour gracing her cheek and fire igniting her eyes.

Her legs squeeze tighter around me, her arms anchoring themselves around my neck. Every moan she offers is a tribute to our raw intensity; every arch of her body fuels my desire to give her all that I am. I press my forehead to hers, and our lips collide in a panting, heated encounter, our slick bodies melding in a rhythm that feels predestined.

Each thrust awakens exquisite sensitivity—a whispered invocation of my name dissolving into desperate, fragmented pleas. With every movement, her inner curves quiver in a delicate dance, and I feel that familiar, explosive rush building as she teeters once more on the edge of divine release.

“You’re mine,” I grit out, fucking into her harder. “Say it.”

“Yes,” she moans, head thrown back, neck arched. “I’m yours, Zeke.”

That’s it. That’s the goddamn fuse.

I lose all semblance of control as I drive into her with an almost feral intensity, desperate to etch this moment so deep into her very bones that no one else can ever make her feel this overwhelming urge. Her hands grab at me as if my body is the only lifeline keeping her anchored here, and damn, I relish the thought of being that anchor.

She cries out in raw agony as she shatters into climax, her entire body convulsing in a fierce, electric grip around me. I'm lost in the wild cadence of her contractions, pulses, and trembles—a disorienting, intoxicating fervor. My jaw locks tight, muscles tensing under the strain of holding back the tide, yet I refuse to let go. Not now.

I deliberately ease my momentum, each breath a battle to regain control, allowing her to soar on the rapture without completely surrendering control. My arms tremble with the effort of restraint while I watch, transfixed, as she descends from the precipice of ecstasy that we’ve scaled together.

She meets my eyes with a searing look—lips swollen, vibrant red, cheeks flushed, and eyes unsteady yet brimming with fierce, lingering pleasure. Her hair is a riot of untamed disarray, her body exposed and gloriously spent, looking more magnificent than ever.

Lowering myself onto my elbows, I enshroud her in my arms, letting our bodies finally merge completely as I give a final thrust and find my own release. Her legs cling tightly to my waist as if to hold on until the world outside ceases to exist, and I have no desire to let go.

I trail gentle, incendiary kisses along her temple, her cheek, and the delicate corner of her mouth—each touch a potent reminder of our connection. As she tilts her face up, her lips press against my neck, and I freeze, cherishing every second of this heightened communion. My hand ascends along her back, finding its place between her shoulder blades, anchoring her to me with undeniable intensity.

Eventually, I ease apart with careful, deliberate movements, rolling to my side and drawing her close with every shift. She curls into my chest as though it is her only sanctuary—her cheek pressed against my pulsating heart, one leg entwined with mine, her breath a soft, feverish caress on my skin.

For a long, charged silence we exist; words are needless in the electric stillness that envelops us. Her fingers trace sinuous, intricate paths over my ribs while my hand tenderly stokes down her spine, keeping her irrevocably near.

Then she shifts slightly, not breaking our connection but just enough to lift her head and fix her gaze on me—her eyes full of a raw intensity that sends my heart into a wild, swelling beat.

“You scare me,” she says quietly.

I pause, hand stilling at the small of her back. Her eyes are open—clear, honest, searching.

I don’t flinch. I don’t pull back. Instead, I brush her hair from her face, lean in, and press a kiss to her forehead. “Good,” I say. “Because that means you care.”

Her breath catches. “I do.”

I nod, not needing anything else from her at this moment. I already feel it—in her body, her eyes, the way she lets me in.

Tonight was just the beginning, that much is certain. Adam, Brent—those bastards—and whatever else is going on in Glacier Hollow and whoever is responsible are still out there. Still lingering and threatening.

Sadie curls tighter into my chest, her soft breath warm where it meets my skin and even where it doesn't. Her heartbeat wild, frantic and unfocused. Just like mine. I hold her tenderly until the only sound left in the room is our breathing, fading like a distant echo in an empty cavern. A soft rhythm shared between us that makes me feel like we're the only ones left in the world.

I know, without question or the faintest shadow of a doubt, that this wasn’t just sex. It would never be just a release. We crossed a line, and once crossed, it could never be uncrossed. A claim made, raw and urgent, and there’s no going back now.

Tomorrow, whoever is out there threatening my woman and my town is going to come to the harsh realization that the mountain and all of its inhabitants have been reclaimed. That it belongs to me, to us. And soon, very soon, those who are responsible are going to bleed.