Page 3 of Roughing It

Hudson slams me down as he thrusts upward. “I said, say you need my cock. Word for word, Blakely. Say your greedy cunt needs my cock.”

Pink rises from my sternum to my cheeks. It isn’t embarrassment at his filthy words—it’s pure heat. “My greedy c-cunt needs your cock. Give it to me, Bear!”

I tighten mywalls around him and rotate my hips, the rhythm between us rapid and reckless. Hudson’s thumbs brush my nipples before wandering lower to my hips and guiding my thrusts, forcing himself deeper and deeper into me. I let out a gasp when his teeth latch onto the sensitive spot where my shoulder and neck meet. Euphoria floods my system, and it’s all I can do not to float away as he pants against my neck. I claw at his back, his shoulders, his hair, searching for any purchase I can find.

His nimble fingers flick my clit, and the first thrums of my orgasm blossom. A soft pinch and the pure pounding of his wide cock hitting the perfect place inside me plunge me deep into the cooling waters of release.

Burning. Ash. Relief.

My plaintive sob echoes in the dark. The swirling endorphins of my emotional release battle my panic at the thought of leaving him. The desire to tell him. The need to stay. My head falls forward, and tears drop onto his skin as he drives into me.

“Fuck, Blakely, are you okay?”

“Yes, don’t stop,” I stutter through my tears. In this moment, we’re as close as two people can be, but I want more. I grasp his dark brown hair, as though this will allow me to pull him tighter to my body. Tether his soul to mine.

Reading the signs of his impending release, I squeeze my innermost muscles and roll my body in tandem with his faltering thrusts. One more tight clench of my pussy around him, and he spills inside me. The warmth spreads from between my legs to my heart.

Lifting my face, he thumbs away the tears on my cheeks and brushes delicate, sweet kisses over my forehead, nose, and lips. For all his gentleness, he still steals my breath.

“What happened?”

“I-I’m embarrassed.” I try to hide, but he tightens his grip on my chin, lifting my face so I can’t look away.

“What do you mean? After everything we’ve been through and learned about each other? We’ve seen each other in ways neither of us expected.” His voice drops, growing husky. “I’ve touched every inch of you, licked every inch of you. Seen you vom?—”

I cut him off with a glare and a kiss.

Chuckling, he continues, “Why are you embarrassed?”

“I...” Refusing to let the words die in my throat the way they have so many times over the past few days, I whisper, “Iloveyou.”Then I squeeze my eyes shut, childishly hoping it means he can’t see me either.

“Open your fucking gorgeous eyes and look at me.” The command in his tone, the same command that riles my feathers and curls my toes, has my gaze snapping to his. “I love you too, you beautifully infuriating creature.”

Just like he has from the beginning, Hudson sees me.

Crushing his mouth to mine, my stomach flutters at his admission. He lifts me ever so slightly, our shared releases dripping down my thighs, then Hudson rolls us so he’s on top. Somehow he’s hard again. Still hard? Whatever the case, he slowly pushes back into me.

This time, there’s no rush or urgency. The pace is unhurried. Purposeful. His lips skim along my jaw before moving to my ear and down my neck. Everywhere he touches prickles. Another orgasm crashes over me, but it isn’t a fire—instead, it’s a cooling, calming balm. A soft, sweet release sealed with murmured I love yous and promises I fear we can’t keep.

We lay in each other’s arms, my cheek resting against his sweaty chest. I trace lazy swirls in the smattering of hair there. The cabin is quiet, the air filled with our commingled scents.

The man I’ve grown to love over the past month guides my face upward and presses his forehead to mine. “Stay.”

The single word holds more power than any other we’ve shared. Heavy. Loaded with expectations and fears and dreams.Stay.How can four letters weigh so much?

New tears form. How many times did he try to have this conversation, only for me to avoid it? But now, time is up, and once again, words fail me.

How can I leave? How can I stay?

“Hudson, I…”

He’s everything I never expected to find: a partner to share my life with, to love, whose strength and spirit keep me from being so alone. With him, I can just be. The good, bad, and ugly of me on display, yet he wants it all. The choice should be easy, right?

Hudson holds me tighter without saying anything, trailing his fingers up and down my back and making soothing shushing noises against my hair before climbing out of bed. He’s back in a flash, a rag in his hand. He takes the time to kiss away my tears and clean me up, then gathers a pile of blankets and wordlessly leads me to the front porch.

Together, we cuddle on the swing in the crisp night air—fall doing its best to fight off winter’s will. I snuggle in, the warmth of his hard body putting the blankets to shame. We sit, wound in each other, taking in the rustling of the trees, the chirps and croaks of the nocturnal wildlife, and the twinkling of the stars. So different from the noisy, bustling city I once thought of as home.

Now, the idea of leaving this behind makes me ache for fresh air, sunsets that make you cry, a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere, and the man who challenges me, frustrates me, and loves me.

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