Page 30

T he cabin smells like pine and fresh paint, the last of the spring air clinging to the open windows.

I’m sprawled on the floor, a sea of schedules and colored post-its around me, my laptop balanced precariously on my knees.

Jason’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me like I’m the only thing in the room worth looking at.

“You know,” he says, his voice warm and teasing, “if you keep obsessing over those schedules, they’re gonna start thinking you’re in love with them.”

I don’t look up. “Someone has to make sure the archery lesson doesn’t overlap with the werebat flight demo. Unless you want a bunch of kids with arrows stuck in their wings?”

He steps closer, his boots scuffing against the wood floor. “Pretty sure they’ve got better reflexes than that. Besides, you’ve been at this for hours. You’re gonna turn into a post-it note if you’re not careful.”

“Funny.” I finally glance up, squinting at him. “What do you want, Jason?”

“You.”

The word lands like a spark, quick and bright. He drops to his knees beside me, knocking a stack of papers out of the way like they’re nothing. His hands find my face, callused but gentle, tilting my chin up until I’m looking straight into those dark, endless eyes.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing my cheek.

“I’ve been working all day,” I correct, though my voice falters when he leans in, his breath ragged against my lips.

“Same thing.”

I laugh, but it’s cut short when he kisses me, slow and deliberate, like he’s got all the time in the world. My hands find his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his flannel, pulling him closer.

“Jason,” I mumble against his mouth, “I really need to finish this.”

“Later.” His lips trail down my jaw, his stubble rough against my skin.

“But—”

“Later,” he repeats, his teeth grazing my neck. I shiver in response.

I sigh, letting my laptop slide to the floor as he pushes me back, his frame pinning me gently against the wood. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl, low and deep in his chest.

“You’re impossible,” I whisper.

“You love it.”

I do.

His hands trail down my sides, pulling my shirt up just enough to expose my stomach. His lips follow, hot and insistent, and I arch into him, my breath hitching.

“Jason—”

“Shh.” He looks up, his eyes dark and hungry. “Just let me take care of you.”

I nod, because I can’t argue with that.

He sits back on his heels, his hands moving to the button of my jeans. I lift my hips, letting him slide them off, his fingers brushing my thighs like a promise.

“You’re too good at this,” I breathe, already feeling the heat pooling low in my stomach.

“Practice,” he says, grinning that crooked grin of his.

“Cheeky.”

“You love that too.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, his mouth finding my clit with a precision that makes my back arch off the floor. My hands grip his hair, tugging as he takes his time, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second.

“Jason,” I gasp, my hips rocking against him.

He hums against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine. His hands grip my thighs, holding me in place as he works me over with a patience that’s maddening and perfect all at once.

The world narrows to the feel of his mouth, the warmth of his hands, the soft sounds he’s pulling from me. And when I finally come, his name on my lips, he’s there, holding me steady.

He sits back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, that damn grin still plastered across his face.

“See?” He says, leaning in to kiss me again, slow and sweet. “Better than schedules.”

The warmth of his mouth still lingers on my skin as I try to sit up, my legs shaky beneath me. I reach for my laptop, the screen still glowing with unfinished schedules. “Okay, now I really need to?—”

“Nope.” Jason’s voice is low, a rumble that sends a joly down my spine. His hands are on my hips before I can protest. “I’m not done with you yet.”

I laugh, the sound breathless and light. “You’re insatiable.”

“Guilty.” His lips brush the nape of my neck, his stubble scratching in that way that makes me squirm. “And you love it.”

“Do I?” I tease, but my voice cracks when his hands slide up my sides, pushing my shirt up and over my head. The cool air hits my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of him pressed against my back.

“You do.” His voice is a growl now, rough and possessive, and it sends a thrill through me. His hands grab my hips, turning me until I’m on my knees, the wood floor cool beneath me.

He smirks, his hands sliding down to my waist, pulling me back until I’m flush against him.

“Now, stay still.”

I bite my lip, my heart racing as he positions his cocks at my entrance, teasing me. His grips my hips, steadying me as he presses forward, slow and deliberate. I gasp, my fingers digging into the floor as he fills me, the stretch sending sparks up my spine.

“Jason,” I breathe, my voice trembling.

“Shh.” His hands move to my shoulders, pulling me back against him as he starts to move, each thrust deep and unhurried. “Just feel it.”

I do. The rhythm of him, the way his hands grip me, the way his breath hitches against my neck—it’s all I can focus on. My hands slide forward, bracing against the floor as he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into mine with a force that makes me cry out.

“That’s it,” he growls, his hands tightening on my hips. “Let go.”

I do, my body arching as the pleasure builds, hot and overwhelming. His name spills from my lips, a broken chant as he drives into me, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.

“Jason, I?—”

“I’ve got you.” His voice is rough, his breath hot against my skin. “Come for me.”

And I do, the world shattering around me as I fall apart in his arms.

Jason slows, his hands smoothing up my back, fingers finding the curve of my shoulder blades. His breath is heavy against my neck, still warm, still steady, like he’s savoring every second.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me.

I nod, my forehead pressing against the cool wood floor. “Yeah. Just… keep going.”

He chuckles, the sound dark and a little smug. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He moves his cock again, slow at first, deliberate, like he’s mapping me out all over again. His hands slide down to my waist, gripping me tighter as he picks up the pace. The rhythm is steady, deep, and I feel the heat building low in my stomach already.

“You’re gonna make me come again, aren’t you?” I gasp, my fingers curling against the floor.

“That’s the plan.” His voice is rough, but there’s a lightness to it, like he’s enjoying this as much as I am.

His hands move to my hips, pulling me closer with each thrust. The friction is maddening, perfect, and I can’t help the moan that escapes me.

“Jason—”

“Shh,” he cuts me off, his lips brushing my shoulder. “Just let me take care of you.”

I let out a shaky breath, my body arching as he hits that spot inside me that makes everything else melt away. His hands tighten on my hips, and I know he’s close too, but he’s holding back, waiting for me.

“You’re close,” he says, his voice a low growl. “I can feel it.”

His hands slide up my back, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls me upright, my back pressed against his chest. His lips find my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he murmurs, “Come for me, Alice.”

And I do, the world collapsing around me as I fall apart in his arms. He follows me over the edge, his grip on me tightening as he groans my name, low and rough and sweet.

We stay like that for a moment, his chest pressed against my back, his heart pounding against me. His hands smooth down my arms, and I lean into him, letting him take my weight.

“Told you I’d take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice lazy and satisfied.

I laugh, the sound soft and breathless. “Yeah, you did.”

He kisses the base of my neck, slow and lingering. “Good.”