Chapter 14 Snowflakes and Spice
When I got too cold to stay outside, Jake offered to go back to the house with me.
He didn’t say much after we made it back inside. Helping me strip out of my wet clothes and following me upstairs to change.
Didn’t ask.
Didn’t tease.
Just stood in the doorway of my room for a second, watching me like he was still deciding if this was real.
Like he needed a breath before jumping off a cliff.
Then I moved.
I stepped closer, my fingers curling in the front of his hoodie. “Jake.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and the sound he made—low, broken, full of hunger—was the only warning I got before his lips crashed into mine.
It wasn’t soft.
It was everything.
Hot, hungry, desperate. Like he’d been holding back for days and couldn’t do it another second. He kissed like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let up.
I kissed him back just as hard.
He growled when I pulled his hoodie off, hands everywhere, my waist, my hips, my back, like he didn’t know where to start. His mouth dragged down my neck, and I gasped, fingers diving into his hair as his tongue flicked that spot just under my ear.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You smell so good. I can’t—God, I can’t think when I’m this close to you.”
“Then don’t think,” I whispered, tugging my own shirt over my head.
Jake froze.
Just for a beat.
His eyes dragged down my body, stunned, wide, reverent. “Holy shit.”
I reached for his waistband. “Clothes. Off.”
He didn’t argue.
Didn’t joke.
Just yanked his shirt off in one clean pull and kicked out of his joggers like he was in a race against his own restraint. When I pulled my leggings down, he made another sound—wrecked and worshipful—and dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Jake—”
His hands slid up my thighs. “Let me taste you.”
I almost said yes.
Almost gave in.
But I dropped to my knees instead, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.
“No teasing,” I breathed against his lips. “Not this time.”
“Emmy.” His voice broke.
And then we were tangled on the bed, the blankets sliding to the floor, my back sliding up the bed with a soft thud as Jake came down over me—bare skin to bare skin, his cock hot and hard against my thigh, his hands braced on either side of my head.
“You sure?” he whispered.
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “So sure.”
His hand slid between us, his fingers teasing my folds.
And then he pushed in, first one, then two fingers curling them deep inside me until he found the spot that made me tremble in pleasure.
I cried out in pleasure as he continued teasing me, nuzzling against my breasts and then finally slipping a nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the hard peak until I cried out in pleasure again.
I gasped when he entered me, nails digging into his back as he filled me all at once, slow, thick, perfect.
“Oh my god—Jake—”
He dropped his forehead to mine, groaning low. “You feel, fuck, you feel like home.”
My heart stuttered.
Then he started to move.
Slow at first, deep, grinding thrusts that made me arch into him. He kissed me between every stroke, his hand sliding down to hold my thigh higher around his waist, anchoring me.
“You’re mine,” he murmured into my neck. “You’ve always been mine.”
I moaned, clinging to his shoulders. “Harder.”
He obeyed instantly, hips slamming into mine harder, faster, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the quiet loft. His breath came in ragged gasps, his teeth grazing my shoulder.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he said, voice shaking. “Thought about it every night. Fucking dreamed about you.”
“Then take it,” I gasped. “Take me.”
He kissed me again—messy, open-mouthed, desperate.
And then he really started to move.
Rhythmic. Relentless. His name spilled from my lips over and over, and when he hit that spot deep inside, I shattered—back arching, thighs shaking, hands fisting in his hair as I came hard around him.
“Emmy, fuck, baby—” He followed me with a wrecked cry, thrusting deep as he came, body jerking once, twice, before slumping against me, chest heaving.
For a moment, the world stopped.
Just his weight on me, his hands still holding my hips like he wasn’t ready to let go.
Then he kissed my forehead, gently, softly.
And pulled back just enough to look at me.
His smile, sweet, slow, completely Jake, melted the last of my bones.
“You okay?” he whispered.
I nodded, dazed. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He grinned. “Good. Means I did it right.”
I smacked his chest, and he caught my wrist mid-air, pressing a kiss to my palm.
“Still not done with you,” he murmured, sliding his hand down my stomach. “Not even close.”
And the heat between us sparked all over again.