Chapter 15 Jake + Emmy — Round 2
I wasn’t sure how long we lay there—just skin and breath and sweat and warmth—but I didn’t care. I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to.
Jake was still half on top of me, head resting on my chest, one hand lazily tracing the curve of my thigh. Every time his fingers brushed over a sensitive spot, I twitched.
He noticed.
His smile curled against my skin. “Still sensitive?”
“Very.”
“Good.”
I swatted at him weakly. He caught my wrist and kissed it again, soft this time, but his thumb was already moving lower. I felt the shift in him—playful, yes, but something else too. A heat that hadn’t cooled. If anything, it had banked into something darker. Hungrier.
He looked up at me.
And just like that, his smile faded into something serious.
Intense.
“I keep thinking,” he said softly, “about how you looked under me.”
I swallowed.
Jake pushed up slowly, hovering above me again. His eyes dragged over my body, the way my chest rose with each breath, the way my thighs stayed parted like I was still waiting for him.
“Say it again,” he whispered.
I blinked, dizzy from the change in him. “Say what?”
“That you want me.”
His voice was low and rough and already fraying at the edges.
I reached for him, pulling him closer until his hips pressed against mine again. He was already getting hard.
“I want you.”
He growled—actually growled—and kissed me again, deeper this time. No build-up. No hesitation. Just raw hunger pressed against my mouth like he needed to consume me.
Jake slid his hand down my stomach, then between my thighs, groaning as his fingers found just how wet I still was.
“Jesus, Em.”
He stroked me slowly, watching my face the entire time. My hips bucked into his hand, chasing the rhythm, and he gave me that look—the one that said he wanted to ruin me for every man who wasn’t him.
“You like being touched after?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” I gasped. “God—yes—don’t stop.”
He didn’t.
His fingers worked me with that same easy confidence he carried everywhere else—like this was instinct. His lips found my breast, tongue flicking over my nipple as his fingers slipped inside me again.
“You’re perfect,” he breathed. “So fucking perfect.”
My nails dug into his shoulders as I got closer, body trembling, every nerve frayed and aching for him.
And then he pulled his hand away.
“Jake—”
“Shh,” he whispered, grabbing my hips. “I’ve got you.”
He lifted me easily, settling me over him until I was straddling his lap. His hands gripped my waist, guiding me down until the head of his cock pressed against my entrance.
“Ride me,” he said, voice hoarse. “Let me see you fall apart this time.”
I sank down slowly—tight, full, stretching over him until I couldn’t breathe.
Jake’s head fell back, jaw clenched. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.”
I started to move—slow at first, testing the rhythm—but he helped, guiding my hips into each roll, lifting to meet me halfway with those deep, perfect thrusts.
“You look so good like this,” he murmured. “Look at you, riding me like you need it.”
“I do,” I gasped, digging my nails into his chest. “Jake—I—”
“I’ve got you,” he said again, voice like gravel and velvet. “Take what you need, baby. All of it.”
His hands slid up my back, held me closer as I ground down harder, chasing the edge. The pressure built so fast it nearly scared me. My legs started to shake.
Jake felt it.
He leaned up and kissed me hard. “Come for me. I want to feel it. I want you to fall apart on me.”
And I did.
I shattered.
Came hard, pulsing around him with a broken sob into his mouth. Jake held me through it, whispering praise and dirty promises against my skin.
Then he grabbed my hips tighter and started to thrust up into me with reckless rhythm.
“I’m gonna come,” he growled. “Gonna come so deep inside you—fuck—Emmy—”
He cursed again, hips jerking, and came hard, body going taut under mine. I felt every pulse, every ragged breath as he finally slowed, arms still wrapped tight around me like he didn’t want me going anywhere.
We stayed like that—still joined, bodies slick and trembling, breathing hard.
I brushed his hair back and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Hi.”
Jake let out a soft, broken laugh. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
“Are you?” he asked, voice rough.
I nodded slowly. “Better than okay.”
He held my gaze, serious now. “I meant it. Earlier. I’ve wanted this forever.”
“I know,” I whispered.
His hands slid up my back again, pulling me into a softer kiss.
“We don’t have to go downstairs yet,” he said. “If you want to cuddle up here for a little longer.”
I smiled against his lips. “Let’s wait till they have to come find us.”
He snorted, and for the first time in what felt like hours, Jake’s full laugh rang out—sweet and boyish and real.
Then he rolled us gently to the side, pulled the blanket up over both of us, and let out a slow, contented sigh.
“Best. Sledding. Day. Ever.”