Chapter 80: Secret Corners

Chapter 80: Secret Corners
\- SELENE
I didn't answer him with words. Instead, I grabbed his wrist, yanked him off the porch step, and started walking toward the tree line.
"Where are we going?" Rowan asked, his boots crunching on the pine needles behind me. "The cabin’s right there."
"I have a better idea," I said, glancing back over my shoulder with a grin. "If we go inside, Betsy’s going to ask fifty questions, and Galen’s going to make some awful joke about my sour face. Follow me."
I led him down a narrow deer trail that cut through the spruce trees, heading south along the coastline away from the main harbor. The air got colder, thick with the spray of crashing waves. We scrambled down a steep patch of loose gravel, ducking beneath a wall of jagged black cliffs that jutted straight out into the surf.
"Watch your head," I warned, ducking under a massive overhang of dark basalt.
"Selene, this looks like a cave where things go to die," Rowan said, though he was right on my heels, his hand hovering near my hip just in case I slipped on the wet seaweed.
"Keep walking, smartass."
We squeezed through a narrow crack between two towering rocky crags, and suddenly the wind dropped to a quiet hiss.
It was a hidden alcove. High granite walls blocked out the pine trees and the cabin entirely, creating a private pocket of dry, coarse sand tucked away from the rest of the world. The ocean thundered just fifteen feet out, tossing white foam over the tide pools, but inside the nook, it felt like our own secret room.
Rowan stopped, looking around the high stone walls before his eyes landed back on me. A low, slow smirk spread across his face.
"Okay," he admitted, unbuttoning his heavy flannel shirt and tossing it onto a dry patch of sand near the rock wall. "Fair enough, you were right. This is definitely better than a squeaky mattress in a hallway."
"Told you," I said, stepping closer to him.
Rowan didn't waste another second. He reached out, grabbed my waist, and pulled me flush against his chest. His hands were warm despite the freezing coastal wind sweeping around our small stone shelter.
"You're freezing," he murmured, his thumb tracing the jawline right below my ear.
"Fix it then," I whispered.
He let out a quiet laugh against my neck, his lips pressing hot against my skin right where my pulse was racing. "With pleasure."
His hands slid under the hem of my oversized sweater, his calloused palms rough and hot against my bare waist.
I shivered with excitement. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him down until his mouth met mine in a deep, slow kiss that was completely devoid of the panic that had followed us for weeks. No gunfire or silver, and we didn't need to run.
"Rowan," I breathed into his mouth, my hands tugging at his belt buckle. "Hurry up."
"Patience, Luna," he growled lightly, though his own fingers were trembling slightly as he worked the button of my pants. "We're not being hunted anymore. We've got a lot of time."
"I don't want more times," I snapped playfully, nipping at his bottom lip. "I want you to come inside me quickly."
He let out a low groan, dropping to his knees on his spread-out flannel shirt. He pulled my pants down over my hips, his hands sliding up the back of my thighs with a firm, possessive grip that made my knees wobble.
His mouth followed his hands, pressing hot, lingering kisses along the inside of my thigh until I had to grab his shoulders just to stay upright against the smooth cliff wall.
"Fuck, Rowan..." I gasped, my head resting back against the cold granite.
"Look at me," he murmured, his voice thick and hoarse.
I forced my eyes open. He was looking up at me, his dark eyes fierce and completely focused. He slid two fingers inside me, slow and deep, making me choke on a breath.
"You're so tight and wet," he whispered, his thumb pressing right where I needed it most.
"Because of you, idiot," I gasped out, my hands tightening in his dark hair as he started a rhythmic, overwhelming, perfect pressure that had my hips rolling forward on instinct. "Ah... right there. Don't stop."
"Not a chance," he muttered against my skin.
He stood up in one fluid movement, stripping off the rest of his clothes before pulling me back down onto the flannel shirt with him.
The sand beneath the shirt was firm, but I barely felt it. All I felt was the weight of his body over mine, his chest pressing against my bare breasts as he lined himself up at my entrance.
He paused, resting his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard into the quiet space of the cave.
"You sure about this?" he asked softly, his eyes searching mine. "Here?"
"If you don't put it in right now, Rowan, I swear to God I'm kicking you out into the ocean," I panted.
He let out a breathless laugh, and then he pushed forward, sinking all the way inside me in one smooth, heavy slide.
A loud, ragged moan tore out of my throat, echoing off the high stone walls.
Rowan caught the sound with his mouth, kissing me deeply while his hips set a steady, punishing pace. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't rough either. It was just raw, desperate heat, every thrust driving out the lingering cold from the Iron Spires and the fear of the last few months.
"Selene... fuck," he grunted into my collarbone, his hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave faint marks tomorrow. "You're driving me crazy."
"Faster," I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him even deeper. "Rowan, please fuck me faster..."
"I've got you," he whispered, his voice dark and breathless in my ear. "I've got you, baby."
The sound of the crashing waves outside bled into the sound of our skin slapping together, the quiet groans and sharp, breathless whispers bouncing off the black rocks.
Every time he hit that sweet spot deep inside, bright sparks flashed behind my eyes. The tension that had been locked in my shoulders since we fled the Bloodhowl Pack finally began to shatter.
"Look at me, Selene," Rowan commanded, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps as his pace turned wild, unrelenting.
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze through a haze of tears and sweat. He looked completely wrecked by me, his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with an intensity that made my heart thud wildly in my chest.
"Yours," he rasped, driving into me hard one last time. "Always yours."
That was what broke me. A violent coil of heat snapped deep in my belly, spilling over in a wave of intense contractions that made me arch my back, my fingers digging brutally into his shoulders as I screamed his name into the salty air.
Feeling me tighten around him sent Rowan over the edge. He growled under his breath, buried himself as deep as he could go, and came hard, his entire body shuddering against mine as he poured everything he had left into me.
We lay there for a long time afterward, tangled up in a sweaty, sandy mess on top of his ruined flannel shirt. The tide was coming in slightly, spraying a fine mist over the high rocks above us, but inside our little pocket, it was warm.
Rowan’s head was resting on my chest, his heavy arm wrapped securely around my waist. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.
"Hey," I murmured, running my fingers through his damp hair.
"Hmm?" he grunted, not opening his eyes.
"Your shirt is covered in sand."
Rowan let out a soft laugh, his breath warm against my neck. "Worth it."
"Yeah," I smiled, looking up at the gray sky peeking over the edge of the jagged cliffs. "Though you're the one telling Galen why his favourite flannel is full of wet sand. And guess who's doing the laundry this time?"
Rowan cracked one eye open, a slow grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he buried his face back into my neck. "Fair enough. I'll wash it. Definitely worth it."