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Kara can’t stop smiling. She’s still having a hard time accepting that what she’s spent so long hoping for, while at the same time knowing full well she’d never get, actually happened, and it was better than any midnight fantasy or far away dream.

Granted, she didn’t get there, but she never expected that. Assumed he might have a hair-trigger after years of abstinence.

Her own orgasm is barely a thought on her radar when she’s still riding the high of what they’ve done. This elation after sex is new for her, and the very clear implication that she’s about to be the sole focus of what comes next, is too.

Wade’s currently giving her his undivided attention. That has her far outside her comfort zone. She’s not afraid to let him see her, though. Has been trying to get naked this whole time, after all. Now she’s finally succeeding. No, it’s not his stare she fears, but her own ability to let go.

Sex has never been about her . Never been something she wanted or enjoyed.

Her first near-experience being traumatic at such a young age, paired with her inability to trust, has kept her at arm’s length from potential partners.

Being in love with her best friend for so long certainly didn’t help matters when it came to her romantic prospects.

She trusts Wade with her life. Trusting him with her body is easy, but that doesn’t mean she is confident in her ability to get out of her own head and truly let go.

After they’ve stripped away the last of their clothes, she lies back against the throw pillows. “You can look at me. You can touch me.”

She can be exactly who she is with Wade. It’s safe here. So when his stare roams slowly across her breasts, she doesn’t blush. Lets him caress a nipple between his fingertips and arches up into his touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, countering so much self-loathing with three simple words.

Wade is a good person, she reasons. Kind and honest to a fault, with a heart bigger than anyone she’s known. If he thinks she’s beautiful, then she must be.

She doesn’t hide the scars left behind from those six years apart.

He traces the stories she can’t voice along the underside of a breast and down a sloped journey just below where her waistband would be.

Calloused fingers pause at a particularly cruel line along her thigh that could have easily been the end of her if it nicked an artery.

Instead of clenching them closed tighter, her thighs open another inch or two, allowing him to look.

This whole trip has felt like foreplay. Hell, their whole relationship has, too. She’s primed and ready, restless at his first feather-light stroke where she’s swollen and wet.

When he’d come so quickly, she feared he might leave her wanting.

She’s difficult to get there on a good day, even with her own hand.

She can’t expect any partner to have the patience to reach that goal.

She lives too deeply in her head, consumed by her thoughts, to relax long enough for a solid orgasm to catch her without the use of batteries.

Wade is never selfish, though, so it’s no surprise he wouldn’t be here either. Despite her fear of discouraging him if it doesn’t happen instantly, she wants to try.

That first intimate touch has her hips rolling to chase him, but it’s the fact that he’s watching her face that’s got her breathing faster.

Every reaction she offers is committed to memory, each positive or negative used to fill in a road map to success as he tests out different patterns and intensities, searching for the spots that’ll have her soaring.

He’s trying to learn her and when he’s gathered enough information, he dips his head to kiss softly at her inner thigh, one hand anchoring at her hip while the other works in those slow circles she prefers, something he noticed by being observant.

She doesn’t have to say what she wants because she’s already telling him, and he’s actually listening.

It shocks her how badly she wants to feel his tongue on her.

He doesn’t seem to care that he’s already left his own release there, so she tries not to worry about it either.

If anyone is able to happily go down on her after that, it’s absolutely going to be Wade.

His first firm stroke, teasing where she’s most sensitive, proves it.

He’s good at this, that much is clear in the way he traces her with the tip of his tongue, only teasing her clit before stroking around it, massaging her gently as a low hum vibrates from deep in his throat.

Her head falls back against a green velvet pillow, and her eyes slam shut while they rely on that same form of silent communication.

Every gasp, sharp inhale, or tilt of her hips is a message, and he takes them seriously until he’s found where she needs him most.

Her legs tremble where they’re thrown loosely over his shoulders and she grips the edge of the sofa hard, pushing herself up against his face, but the problem is…

it doesn’t happen right away, just like she feared it wouldn’t.

Her confidence begins to wane. Her brain is swirling from the high of finally being with the man she thought she could never have, the adrenaline left over from almost dying on that cliff, and the clusterfuck of what-ifs that come with soaring past the line they’ve drawn between them for so long.

Her thoughts are like a pinball in a machine, bouncing back and forth and up and down, refusing to let her find peace.

Then there’s the fact that she’s sleeping with Wade before telling him the last secret she holds. Guilt for not confessing sooner creeps in along with the rest of her tattered emotions.

He stops, noticing she’s gone tense. “Okay? I can do something else. Whatever you want.”

“It’s not you,” Kara says, sadly. “I take too long. I’m sorry. You don’t have to keep trying.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve been wanting to be right here for roughly two decades. I’ll stay as long as you let me.”

She hesitates, wanting to believe she’s not putting him out.

“Want more?” he asks softly.

She nods, hating how worried she must look when she can feel her face doing a weird scrunch against her will, fighting anxiety.

Quickly, he moves up to press his lips to hers, whispering between them. “No one’s counting time. Relax. You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Relax, he says, as if it’s simple. The boost he’s given her with the comment that came after is tangible, and she grabs for it as he picks up where he left off.

She focuses on how alive and electric he makes her feel.

How much she loves him and how enthusiastic he is about all of this, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

She pictures him inside her again, pushing deep and hard, and the dual stimulation, both real and imagined, has her contracting barely a minute later.

It takes her by surprise, and she lets out a gasp wrapped in a moan, slightly high-pitched, and more than a little shocked.

Her back bows high off the cushion, leaving her blissfully suspended before crashing hard, hips rolling and body trembling while she breaks apart, dimly aware of the fact that he’s still touching her through it all, letting her ride that wave over and over for what feels like forever until she’s certain she can’t handle more.

Then finally, it begins to fade, allowing her to collapse boneless and tired, gasping for breath as aftershocks rise up to meet his lips where they’ve gone slack against her.

They lay there for a long moment before he leans back with a full-faced grin like he’s never been more proud of himself and never felt anything better than her when she’s coming.

“Good?” He holds out a dry hand, lacing their fingers together.

“So good, I don’t know if I can walk yet,” she admits bashfully, noticing the way his scruff glistens.

She could only ever feel like this with him, she realizes, emotion tightening in her throat. If this is how it’s gone on the very first try, then she’s even more ready to see what happens next.

* * *

They’ve moved to the giant four-poster bed. There’s a fake fire going and a movie on for background noise. It’s easy to forget what’s happened to the world and pretend they’re a normal couple in a mountain house enjoying the afterglow of a first time.

She’s wearing nothing but his shirt, with a cluster of brochures and maps spread out in front of them that they found in a drawer.

Wade surprises her with a tentative question. “What do you think about staying here for a while? Not long, just enough to see a few places around the area. We got power and water. Good place to rest a bit.”

A good place to have sex for days at a time , she thinks to herself, wanting to christen every inch of this massive cabin.

“I like that plan. I think I wanna see this place and…this one, and this other one, too.” She points to different brightly colored landscape photos grouped together like a bouquet. “And if we have somewhere to come back to, that’ll make sightseeing easier.”

“Alright then. A week? Maybe two?”

“I’m good with that. I’m sure we can make good use of this giant house somehow.”

He huffs, dipping his head to look up at her through long bangs while her gaze travels boldly down the length of a well-sculpted chest to where he’s covered by boxers and a blanket.

She’s insatiable now that she knows what he feels like. There’s a phantom pain between her legs from the short time they were together. She knows she’ll be aching tomorrow if they go again, but it’s worth it.

First, they’ve taken a break for food and travel plans.

The complete lack of uncomfortable awkwardness must mean they’ve finally raced past that stage, and not a moment too soon.

Everything was terrifying earlier. Now, she’s never felt more confident, or more like herself, than she does here with him, half-naked, stuffing fresh muffins in her mouth as they chart an itinerary.