Page 114 of Silent Shadows

She reaches down, one of her warm hands slipping under my waistband and into my briefs to grip my cock. Her touch feels unreal. I hiss at the contact as she wraps her fingers around me, teasing.

A low growl escapes my lips as her hand keeps moving and her hips start to grind into me.

Daisy squeezes my throbbing length as she resumes sucking and nibbling at my neck, and the magnetism is overwhelming.

This isn't just attraction anymore. It's instinct. Some ancient, unconscious part of me recognized her before the rest of me did.

I pull her away from me only for a second to take her leggings off. One of my hands grips her bare ass as I use the other to slide a finger through her core. She’s wet with need, and her breath hitches before dissolving into another whimper. I drag my thumb over her clit, teasing her as her hips writhe.

“Fuck, Daisy,” I inhale deeply, her scent driving me feral.

“Miles, I want to feel you inside me,” she moans, and I’m undone in ten different ways.

Both hands dig into her hips, processing while fighting to stay in the moment. “Um, shouldn’t we talk about⁠—”

“I’m clean. I’m on the pill. I’m assuming you’re clean too, based on—” she gestures at me.

“Whoa, what are you trying to say?” I fake being offended. She doesn’t laugh, just bores into me with hungry eyes.

“Don’t overthink right now, Miles. Fuck me. I want you to make me come.” Daisy grabs my hips and pulls me back towards her, pulling my sweats down.

“You’re making it really hard to be normal about this,” I say, voice rougher than I mean for it to be, somewhere between stunned and wrecked.

I lift her again, backing her against the tree, her arms and legs wrapping around me.

I find her mouth again, claiming her with a kiss that’s somehow deeper than before. With my hands on her ass, I tilt her so my tip is resting against her entrance. Daisy’s hips move against me, begging for more, and I relent, burying myself inside her wet, hot pussy. I groan at the sensation, and her nails claw into my back as she adjusts around me.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Miles,” Daisy gasps into my ear.

She’s back to kissing my neck, and the sensation sends me higher. I start to move, slowly at first, loving how tight she feels around me. Then she bites the soft spot of flesh under my ear, and I lose it, thrusting harder into her. I put a hand against the tree trunk to steady myself, the other still holding her ass. Daisy is vocal, not hiding how I’m making her feel, and that drives me to do the same.

Fucking Daisy feels like the most natural thing I could possibly do, and yet I feel so unlike my natural, everyday self. Somewhere between the teasing, the moonlight, and Daisy looking at me like she craves me, the constant static in my head has gone quiet. And thank God, because this moment right here is the only thing I want to focus on.

Her moans grow rougher around the edges as she lets go. She grabs me, claws at me, without hesitation.

And God, I want to stay inside this feeling. Inside her.

Slowing my pace, I bring my focus to her face, reveling in the delicious sensation of sliding in and out of her. I rest my forehead lightly against hers for a second, my breath uneven, chest too tight for something that’s supposed to be just “a little fun.”

My pulse is loud, my thoughts tangled, my whole body caught somewhere between awe and disbelief and carnal want.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” she murmurs, half-wrecked, half-laughing, as she bites at my lower lip.

She looks at me like she sees straight through the self-deprecating jokes and nervous rambling and endless overthinking, and she kisses me like she likes what she finds.

I pull back, one hand cupping her chin, “I kind of do.”

The mutual understanding in this moment makes me want to hold her steady. Makes me want to memorize this version of her—wild-eyed and smiling and warm in the dark.

Sweat starts to form where we’re pressed together. The uneven rhythm of our breathing tangles together until I can’t really tell where mine ends and hers begins. The way she moans my name as if I’m not too much, too strange, too messy or overcomplicated. Just wanted.

I tip my forehead against hers for half a second, eyes slipping shut, breath still uneven.

“Let me see you come undone,” I say, not recognizing my own voice. “Fall apart around me, Daisy.”

She lets out a needy whimper and another band of restraint in me snaps. I drive into her, harder this time. I nip at Daisy’s neck, breathing her in. I can still smell me—my hoodie—on her, and that pushes me further, wanting to claim her. Beneath my scent lies warm skin, cold mountain air, and the pear-palo santo scent of her hair. A little smoke from the fire. It makes my chest ache for reasons I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to unpack because I’m balls deep in this woman, in sensory overload, and I’m about to tip over.

“Miles, I’m going to come,” she says through gritted teeth, her eyes pressed shut.