Shyly, I slid my hand between our bodies, fingertips brushing my swollen clit. The first tentative circle sent a spark through me, and I bit my lip, cheeks burning.
"Good girl," he praised, voice gravelly. "Just like that. Keep going."
I did. Small, hesitant strokes at first, then surer ones as pleasure started to thread through the discomfort. The pain eased, melting into a deep, aching fullness that felt…right. Better than right.
My hips rocked forward experimentally, and Hale groaned, sinking the rest of the way inside me with one smooth thrust. He went deep, and the sensation of being completely filled made my head spin.
"God, Mia," he rasped, eyes raking over me with raw hunger. "You look so fucking hot like this—naked against this tree, tits bouncing every time I move, taking my cock like you were made for it."
He leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking hard, and I moaned louder than I meant to—abroken, needy sound that echoed faintly off the rocky overhang behind us.
The risk of it all hit me then, sharp and electric. We were completely exposed on the overlook, the valley spread out below us like a glittering map. Anyone hiking up the switchback trail could round the bend and see us—Hale's powerful body pinning me to the tree, my leg wrapped high around his waist, his cock buried deep while I touched myself right there in the open air.
The thought sent a fresh rush of wetness between my thighs. This was the most exciting, rebellious thing I'd ever done. No careful planning, no worrying about what my father would think, no hiding. Just raw need and the cool mountain wind on my skin and the man I wanted more than I'd ever wanted anything.
Hale started moving—slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged the thick length of him against every sensitive spot inside me. Each powerful thrust pushed my back harder against the rough bark, the coarse texture scraping my spine and shoulders in a delicious burn that contrasted sharply with the velvet heat of his cock stretching me open and the wet heat of his mouth still teasing my breast. The roughness grounded me, made everything feel sharper, more real—the scrape of bark against sweat-slick skin every time he drove forward, the way it bit in just enough to make me gasp while his hands stayed so gentle on my thigh and waist.
I could see the flex of his biceps and shoulders in the fading golden light. Below us, the valley was a living painting—the river catching the last light like molten silver, the town's first twinkling lights winking on like distant stars, the pines swaying softly in the breeze that carried the sharp scent of resin and earth straight to us.
"Fuck, listen to you," he growled against my neck, voice thick with lust as he picked up the pace, hips snapping forwardin steady, deliberate thrusts that made wet, obscene slapping sounds fill the quiet dusk. "Those little moans—shit, Mia, you're soaking my cock. So tight, so perfect. Keep rubbing that pretty clit for me. I want to feel you come."
I whimpered, the sound high and desperate, my fingers circling faster on my clit as his words sank into me. My other hand clutched at his back, nails dragging down his skin.
Every thrust jostled my breasts, making them sway heavily between us, and he couldn't stop staring—eyes dark and possessive, drinking in the sight. The wind rustled louder through the pines overhead, cool gusts brushing over my nipples and the slick place where our bodies joined, heightening every sensation until I was trembling.
"You're squeezing me so tight," he growled, one hand palming my breast, thumb circling my nipple in time with his thrusts. "I want to hear you scream my name when you come."
The words tipped me over. Pleasure detonated deep inside me, so intense my vision whited out for a second. My walls seized around him, pulsing hard and fast, and the sensation was everywhere—hot, liquid heat flooding my veins, my clit throbbing wildly under my own fingers, my whole body shaking as wave after wave crashed through me.
I cried out sharply, the sound raw and unrestrained—"Hale!"—echoing off the rocks and fading into the valley below.
My thighs trembled violently around his waist, back arching so hard the tree bark dug in deeper, the contrast only sharpening the endless pulses of ecstasy. It felt like falling and flying at the same time, every nerve singing, my moans turning into broken gasps and whimpers as the orgasm stretched on and on.
Hale cursed low and filthy, hips stuttering as my orgasm pulled him under too. He thrust deep one last time, burying himself with a powerful snap of his hips, and I felt the hot pulseof him coming inside me—thick, rhythmic jets that made my own release stretch out even longer.
His groan vibrated against my throat, raw and masculine—"Fuck, Mia, yes"—and his arms tightened around me like he never wanted to let go. His body shuddered against mine as the wind whipped around us and the last light of sunset painted us both in fire and shadow.
We stayed like that for a long minute, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat despite the cooling air. Slowly, the world came back—the rustle of pine needles, the distant call of a bird, the last streaks of color on the peaks in deep purple and fiery orange.
Hale kissed me softly, almost reverently, then eased out of me with a low hiss. I winced a little at the emptiness, but his hands were gentle as he steadied me.
We dressed in quiet—me pulling on my panties and jeans with shaky fingers while he tugged his shirt over his head and stepped back into his boots. He helped me with my flannel jacket, brushing a kiss to my temple as he buttoned it for me.
When we were both decent again, he took my hand and led me back to the edge of the overlook. We sank down onto the same rocky ledge where we'd started, side by side, my head resting on his shoulder.
The valley stretched out below us, lights beginning to twinkle in town. The river caught the dying light one last time before the dark settled over it.
Hale's arm wrapped around me, warm and solid. Neither of us spoke for a while. We just sat there, watching the mountains keep their secrets as the sky deepened into true night, the confession point living up to every legend it had ever earned. For the first time in my life, I wasn't thinking about tomorrow or what anyone else might say. I was exactly where I wanted to be.
8
HALE
Two days felt like longer.
Not in a bad way. In the way that time moved differently when you were paying attention to it—when every hour had something in it worth keeping track of.
She'd come to the river Monday morning before her shift and we'd fished the lower bend for an hour without saying much, just existing in the same stretch of water the way we'd gotten comfortable doing. She'd brought coffee in a thermos and poured mine without asking how I took it. I'd watched her cast and thought about the overlook and said nothing because nothing needed to be said.
