Stay With Me 3

by Jessica Aniston

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here, babe,” he mumbles against her lips, and she doesn’t argue.

  They don’t get further than the cave entrance before he’s run her against the wall, careful to still hold her head so that when she hits, it’s the back of his hand crashing against the stone. He kisses her on the same breath she releases on impact, and it’s not rough like she thought it would be, but languid and soft, so very soft, it might break her. She moans before she can help herself, making him grin against her mouth. It’s hard to contend within herself, everything she’s feeling right now: truth and joy and relief and love and passion, and surprise, more than anything. She never expected this. She’d thought he was grossed out by being turned on by her, because he may be thought of her like a sister. She had no idea that he had feelings for her, feelings so strong that he kept himself away so he didn’t have a chance to blow it with her romantically. If she had known, she could have saved them so much time. She would have done something about it ages ago. If she’d known how he felt. It’s a good thing she knows now. Finally. Only took them a decade and a bit.

  “I’m glad we had this talk,” she says against his smile as it settles. “I can’t believe it.”

  “No take backs, Hanson,” Declan mumbles and pecks her lips between the words. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  “I’ll be gentle,” she whispers back and he makes a rumbling sound, somewhere in the back of his throat before he pushes his hips forward, wedging himself between her legs. Someday, she will work through what is happening right now, all intellectual and analytical. But tonight she won’t. Tonight she’ll feel. Dissolve into his bloodstream and show him as best as she can that he’s never going to lose her.

  “Do I get to sleep in the tent with you?” Declan mutters, minutes later, after his light stubble has made her lips sufficiently puffy.

  “You get to come into it with me,” Karin relents. “I’m not promising you any sleep.”

  “That’s alright,” he chuckles, all throaty and hungry. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him further into the cave.

  Inside, the fire he built is still burning brightly and she’s glad for it, because that means she can actually see his face. He looks at her like she’s magic and there’s no camera lens anywhere. So maybe the way he looked at her those weeks before wasn’t really just for the show. It would make her feel warm and fuzzy all over if she wasn’t drenched to her bones in her wet clothes and starting to freeze. Declan sees the change in her immediately.

  He tucks some loose wet hair behind her ear and smiles. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, shall we? Just give me a second to put down the mats and sleeping bags, alright? I’ll be quick.”

  Karin stands and watches as he fumbles with their backpacks in the murkiness, producing the thin self-inflating mats he shoves into the tent’s mouth to sort themselves out in there, and then unpacks their sleeping bags one by one and disappears into the tent for a while, presumably to arrange it all. Meanwhile Karin steps out of her sopping wet shoes, placing them next to Declan’s recently removed pair, and shimmies out of her equally as wet khaki shorts.

  When Declan reemerges, he doesn’t take his eyes off of her, even as he stumbles to his feet. His eyes are dark in the flickering fire light. They stand there for a moment, facing each other and there’s this bristle of promise that makes Karin’s lips pulse with the memory of his mouth on hers and the anticipation of getting them there again. He closes the distance between them swiftly and fingers with the hem of her shirt. She can’t breathe, he’s so close. She wants him more than she's ever wanted anything.

  “I’m going to take this off,” he tells her matter-of-factly and then does it, carefully rolling the sticky garment up her body, making her shiver but not from the sudden exposure. The shirt catches on her head and he struggles a bit, groaning, which in turn makes her giggle and his job even harder. But he’s grinning at her when she’s finally free, her top knot at long last completely undone and her hair falling open and tangled-wet over her shoulders. Dazed-looking, he tucks her hair back behind her ears.

  “Do I get to help you, too?” she asks him, standing there in a dark cave by softly glowing embers in her mismatched underwear. He nods and so she doesn’t wait to undo his pants, giving them a good push downwards and then taking his shirt off. It all goes onto the pile of her own clothes. She should lay them out to dry but she really doesn’t give a damn about anything but him right now. He’s there and he’s just in his boxer briefs and he’s so hard under them, her throat dries up. She can’t help but stare a bit, which makes him shift on his feet uneasily when he notices.

  “Tent?” she suggests, trying to put him at ease as much as move things along. She wants him out of that restricting fabric. Declan responds by taking her hand and pulling her after him. The climb into the poly cotton hut is not very sexy but they manage. He goes down first, lying on his side and holding out his hand again to help her down. She’s not on her back two seconds before he kisses her once more and quickly unhooks her bra at the back to get her out of it. He revels at the sight for just a brief moment before sucking one nipple into his mouth, making her arch her back into the touch. He’s not wasting time. She still can’t believe this is really happening. Studiously, he continues with his ministrations, maneuvering her around where he wants her with strength and ease, continuing his trail down her body and gripping her by the hips to lift them and slide her panties off. She is left breathless when he pushes her knees apart and finally gets there.

  She moans at the first contact, the arousal that was almost subdued by wonder before, back with a vengeance and he chuckles against her skin, putting his palm on her lower abdomen and looking up at her from between her thighs.

  “Tell me if you like it?” he asks her, sounding endearingly hopeful and she can only nod and hope to catch her breath.

  There’s honestly not much she can say once he gets started, not more than ‘Yes, God, oh, Declan, yes!,’ which she tells him in random intervals as he plays her like an instrument. She thinks she comes within minutes, she’s not quite sure, it’s all a bit much but he holds her down as she squirms, his tongue dancing from one right spot to the next and back to that, right there, yes, again and again and again. He growls into her flesh and when she has just about forgotten her name, he comes back up, rising to kiss her with her taste on his tongue, and pushes his hips against hers slowly. He’s still in his briefs but he doesn’t seem to care. He moans and sighs and groans as if he’s already inside her. Karin is about to crawl out of her own skin with desire, losing the boundaries of her body to his. She loves him, loves, loves, loves this man.

  He keeps grinding into her, gently and leisurely, making her stir-crazy with wanting the real thing but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. It makes her all dizzy, the way he moves on to kiss her neck, covering her with his lips and tongue, like he’s drinking her and she’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

  “I want you so damn much,” he whispers hotly, so quiet it barely carries. “I want to bury my cock so deep inside you.”

  Apparently he likes to keep up a running, dirty commentary of what he’d like to do to her. She can’t say she’s opposed to any of it. Except when after a while, and more of those filthy, enticing words, he suddenly pauses and then stops moving entirely, because she is very opposed to that. She opens her eyes to find him hovering over her, pupils blown out and neck flushed red, visible even in the yellow-tinted gloom.

  “Damn,” he breathes, chest heaving, and caresses her cheek absentmindedly, as if looking for purchase there.

  “What?” she asks, trying to focus on what the matter is now.

  “I have nothing,” he tells her, looking grief-stricken. “No protection.”

  Thank God. “In my backpack, first compartment,” she tells him quick, matter-of-factly, instantly relieved that it’s just this and not second thoughts on his part. If he doesn’t do to her what he’s just whispered about for five minute
s straight, she will very likely burst into a million throbbing pieces.

  Declan looks at her quizzically for a moment but then snaps forward to crawl to the tent’s entrance and fish around in front of it for her backpack and when he ducks back inside, he has two boxes of condoms in his hands, one regular, one XL. He holds them up for her, raising an eyebrow.

  “I wasn’t sure what size ... ” she tells him, a little embarrassed.

  “That’s very flattering, I guess,” he mutters, looks at both the boxes and then puts one to the side. “Regular ones are fine, though.” She loves that he has absolutely no qualms admitting that and she loves that he’s regular honestly. Too big is no fun – and it’s too difficult to deep-throat, which she is very much planning on doing as this night progresses. Look at what a confident, secure and fine human male she’s picked to lose her heart to forever. Good on her and her private parts.

  “Why did you bring those?” Declan asks her, rattling her out of her daydreaming about going down on him.

  “I don’t know, I thought you might get yourself together,” she tells him honestly.

  “Did you bring them from home?” he asks again, getting closer to her on his knees.

  “No,” she smiles, understanding the question. Did she go into this planning to sleep with him? The answer is certainly not. “I got them in the city, after we bought the dress.”

  “Right. Wow.” He runs his hand through his hair before slotting back in beside her, rolling to his side so he can run his palm over her waist. “So you did sort of plan this.”

  “Well, not this specific scenario,” she replies, nodding at the dark green tent surrounding them. “But I thought we were maybe going to end up wanting to do this, so I thought best be prepared.”

  “But you were trying to seduce me, right?” he asks and it’s a bit hard to follow with the way he trails his hand across her chest, brushing her nipples so they harden under his fingertips. “With the underwear to bed and everything.”

  “Hmm, maybe,” she drawls, her eyes rolling back just a little. “No success with that.”

  “My dick would beg to differ,” Declan half-laughs, raspy and low. “I’ve been dying for weeks.”

  “You don’t have to anymore,” she mutters and tugs at his shoulder, trying to tip him down onto her. “You can have everything you want from me.”

  He follows the momentum she creates and covers her with his body, still clutching the condoms in one hand. He only lets go for a moment to take his underwear off and then fiddles with the carton, manages to get it open and spill all its contents on the spread out sleeping bags. She can’t blame him, her pulse is racing so heavily, she wonders if she might be having a heart attack. She’s hot all over, eyes unfocused and darting from what he is doing to how much she is shaking, and he is fumbling, electricity running through his body, he’s so on edge.

  “Oh god,” he whispers, stressed and frantic. Responding naturally, Karin runs her fingers across his temple to soothe him, trying to calm them both down. His head snaps around to her and for a second it’s like they’re kids again, taking each other’s hands on the dance floor. Just a headstrong little boy all proud of himself that he can show the girl from the city how to dance, and a little girl who has never held a boy’s hand before, but finds that she likes it if it’s his. They’re kids still, the two of them, about to do a new thing together, when everything else between them has already been charted and experienced long ago. This is new and terrifying, as well as impossibly exciting. There’s no other first time Karin ever wants to have again. Just this. Or better, there is nobody else she ever wants any other firsts with but him. Other firsts, she can’t even imagine with anybody else ... moving into her first shared apartment, celebrating her first wedding anniversary, having her first child. It all revolves around him.

  “Leave them out. We’ll need them in time,” she says and that gets Declan right back to growling. She helps him focus, the way she always manages to when he’s spiraling about something. His hands still shake when he’s working one of the condoms onto his length but Karin barely notices, occupied with controlling her breathing and getting into the moment. It’s their way, really. He panics, she calms him down and then she gets herself in check, but she doesn’t mind, not tonight. It’s happening now, it’s going to happen. She’s finally going to have sex with him. After years and years hoping and praying, she’ll know what it’s like. How it feels to sleep with the love of her life.

  It’s wonderful. Mind-blowing. Intimate. Sweet. Tender. Loving.

  It’s everything. From how he gently aligns them, to that sweet favorite moment he helps her savor, when for the very first time he sinks into her and stares into her eyes for every inch, to the first moves he makes in her. He holds her gaze the entire way, won’t let her look away or close her eyes, and then starts on his commentary once again. She realizes in a flash that she already knows this from him. He’s like this when they dance. If it’s on the dance floor, he’s constantly talking, whispering through his teeth about cues and turns. Now he’s whispering about wanting her and needing her. It’s so him, she could cry.

  This is everything, too. The “I love you,” he whispers, pushing into her, just so, just perfect. “I love you so much, Rinny. You have no idea.”

  “I love you,” she breathes, kissing his cheek as he’s mouthing at her neck, talking and talking.

  “You’re mine now,” he nearly whimpers, moaning between the words. “God, you’re mine, only mine. Say you’re mine. Hmm? Say it, baby? Please? Who do you belong to?”

  “You,” she yelps as he thrusts even further, pulling out far to go back in deeper on every new stroke.

  “Who do you belong to?” he repeats, desperately, and all she feels is his body and all she smells is his scent, salt and soap, his hair flat against his face pressed close next to hers. All she sees is the walls of the tent and the muscles of his shoulders dancing under his skin where he holds her and takes her. He makes love to her and holds her. He draws in a sharp breath when she hikes her legs up, so the angle changes and his nose bumps harder into her neck.

  “I belong to you,” she whispers.

  “Forever,” he groans and sniffles, just a little, just below her ear, like he might be crying.

  “Forever,” she echoes. Then she nudges him, once, twice, until he gets the message and rolls onto his back, holding her by the hips to keep them connected.

  She claims him like he’s claimed her. “You belong to me too,” she tells him, locking eyes as his hands pinch hard into her hips. “You’re all mine, right?”

  He nods, earnest through the effort of keeping it together underneath her as she starts riding him indulgently. “I was always yours. Since we were kids,” he promises and his eyes are lighter now, still hungry, but clearer, flickering hazel in the dim light, looking like amber, like honey. “I never really loved anybody else.”

  “Good,” she smiles and hopes it’s a little bit wicked, that it says ‘and you will never really love anybody else after me.’

  From the way he gazes up at her, all glistening, soft looks and open affection, she thinks he understands. She thinks he knows.

  She knows it's the same for her. There'll be no next one for her, no one like him, ever.

  CHAPTER TWO

  K arin wakes up to sparse light and used air. It smells like sex and latex and sleep but she doesn’t care one bit. She’s half covered by her sleeping bag which they unzipped to be a blanket. She hadn’t bothered putting her bra back on after the last time he took it off, so now she’s all exposed but finds that she doesn’t mind it at all. Tired, but fuzzily warm, she blinks, finding Declan asleep beside her, the half of the sleeping bag that isn’t on her, tucked between his legs covering his modesty. The rest of him is bare, curled up on his side facing her, dead to the world. Oh god, he looks so pretty, the way his chest rises and falls, how his forehead creases as he dreams.

  They did it. They went all the way together and it was g
lorious, it was everything she ever thought it would be, and so much better at the same time. How he whispered to her, how he didn’t get tired at all, how they went through four condoms and he was wonderfully relentless, absolutely never getting sick of going down on her and so enticingly responsive and vocal when she returned the favor, when he mumbled under his breath that she was the best ever as she had his balls cupped in her palm. How his hands tangled into her hair and his tongue charted every inch of her neck. How he looked down at her, buried inside her body, and told her he loved her over and over again. That memory propels her forward more than anything, and she scoots over, selfishly waking him up. He doesn’t seem like he knows who and where he is at first, he just tilts his head at her, bleary eyed, and smiles.

  “Rinny,” he mutters, and yawns, her very old, very long retired nickname sounding like molasses falling from his lips. She giggles.

  “You haven’t called me that in years,” she mumbles and scoots into his outstretched arms, letting him pull her on top of his chest.

  “I need it,” he rasps, smoothing the bare skin of her back out with his palm. “For comfort. I’m trying really hard not to be afraid right now.”