Our bodies were slick where they met, my breasts sliding against his chest as he wrapped his arms up and under my back, hooking his hands on my shoulders. He held me there as he flexed again, and I felt the muscles of his ass working under my heels with every new thrust.
It couldn’t have even been a full minute of us being connected, and already, I was ready to fall apart.
But River flipped us, quickly, holding me to him to keep the connection. I unhooked my ankles just in time to land straddling him, and he sat up, back against the headboard, me in his lap.
His hands traced a trail down my shoulders, my arms, my hips, until he was grabbing my ass and helping me ride him. It didn’t matter how long had passed since we last touched, he still knew every way to please me.
He knew grabbing my ass like that, tilting his hips the way he was — it was in just the right way for my clit to catch the friction it so desperately wished for. He knew that when he yanked on me hard and my hands flew forward, finding the headboard on either side of him, it was the perfect angle to let that gentled curve of his cock reach all the right spots. And he knew when he leaned forward just enough to capture my left nipple in his mouth, sucking it between his teeth, that it was all I needed to combust.
I was wild in that moment, my hips bucking uncontrollably, thighs barely even moving me up and down anymore. Now, I rocked back and forth, feeling him deep, rubbing my clit until my orgasm caught light like a dying star. It ripped me apart from the inside out, shredding me inch by inch in the most ecstasy-filled demise.
I rode every wave of that death until I was spent, limp in his arms, heaving each new breath as if it took everything I had left in me just to give my body oxygen.
River slowed his pace, kissing my lips hard, bruisingly, until he dragged those lips and nipping teeth and sweeping tongue down my neck again. I was so limp and small in his arms that it didn’t take much effort for him to flip me over again, onto my stomach, with my ass in the air just the way I knew he liked it.
He slapped my ass as a reward for remembering, and I fisted my hands in the sheets as he lined up at my entrance, remembering all too well how deep he felt in this position. His hands slipped between the folds where my thighs met my hips, and in one full thrust, he filled me again.
“Fuck, Eliza,” he husked, slipping out just to slide back in again. “So wet. So fucking tight.”
He flexed in, again and again, picking up speed and groaning more with every new thrust. His hand splayed on my back, pushing me down even more into the sheets, and then he was riding me like a fucking horse, plowing into me. I cried out against the pain, but it was met with a searing pleasure that confused my senses.
I wanted to beg him to stop.
I wanted to beg him to never stop.
I didn’t have the chance to decide before he was ripping out of me, the loss so violent I shuddered beneath him, and then I felt his warm release painting my ass, my back, my shoulders and my thighs all at once.
I looked over my shoulder, watching him stroking his long, thick length as the last of his release pulsed out. It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, and I knew before we’d even cleaned up that it wouldn’t be the last time I’d make that man come for me tonight.
If it was up to me, that night would have lasted forever.
If it was up to me, the morning would have never come.
But it wasn’t up to me.
And when the sun finally found its way through those cabin windows, bright and blinding off the snow covering the ground outside, it would be the wake-up call I never wanted.
My head pounded me to consciousness the next morning, eyeballs throbbing beneath my lids until I was brave enough to creak them open.
I groaned when the first little ray of sunlight found me…and realized two things at the same time.
One, I was extremely warm — thanks to being sandwiched between Moose and River on the bed. Moose was on top of the quilt and River was underneath the sheets with me, his legs and arms tangled up with mine, our naked bodies stuck together and steaming.
Two, I was going to vomit.
I nearly fell on my face in my scramble out of the bed, twisting and turning until I freed each limb from the sheets. Moose barked at the commotion, and River groaned, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like are you okay, but I couldn’t be sure, because I had approximately four seconds to get to the bathroom.
I made it to the toilet just in time to drop to my knees and forfeit whatever I had left in my stomach, which wasn’t much else than booze. We’d eaten dinner so early, and then proceeded to get rip-roaring wasted the rest of the night, and my body was reminding me of those dire choices in every possible way this morning.
A long groan left me when I’d finished heaving, and I rested my cheek on the toilet, peeking up at the mass of man staring down at me.
River smiled. “Merry Christmas.”
“I hate you for making me take that shot of gin.”
He chuckled, lowering down to the ground next to me. It was then that I noticed the glass of something cloudy and orange in his hand, and two little candy-coated pills.
“Advil,” he explained. “And chase it with this.”
“What is it,” I asked, sitting up and taking the glass from him, inspecting the contents.
“My hangover cure.”
I arched a brow.
“Just trust me,” he insisted, and so I did, tossing the pills into my mouth and washing them down with the cure. It tasted like orange juice and saltwater, and I grimaced, choking down as much as I could manage before I gave up.
When I looked back at River, at the way his eyes were crawling over me, the way his lips were set in a soft smile, I realized what I’d somehow forgotten.
I was stark ass naked.
“God, look at me,” I said, curling in on myself. “A mess on Jesus’s birthday.”
River barked out a laugh, standing before he helped me up and back to the bed. We crawled in together, right next to a very happy Moose, who promptly licked my face in greeting.
Littered around the cabin was all the evidence of what had transpired last night. There were our half-empty glasses of spiked eggnog, and the two empty shot glasses we’d used to do our dares. The Christmas Blanket was in a heap by the fire, which had gone out overnight, and all the candles had burned down, or maybe River had blown them out.
The little radio still played Christmas music softly, and with just one look out the window, I could see the storm was over. It was still mostly cloudy, but the sun was shining through the silvery clouds.
My stomach was still unsettled when I looked at River, who had his head propped on his bicep, his eyes on me.
“So…” he said.
“So…” I echoed.
“We should probably talk.”
I swallowed. “About?”
A short laugh through his nose told me he saw right through me. “Well… after last night…” He shrugged. “I think we should maybe talk about what happens next. About what this means.”
Those words snapped me back to reality, and I sat up straighter in the bed, pulling the sheets up to cover my chest. I felt the panic zipping through me like live wires under my skin, and I took a deep breath too soothe my soul as best I could.
River sat up, too, watching me with bent brows now. “Eliza,” he said, not really as a question so much as a warning.