Page 67 of Curvy Cabin Fever
He looks down at me, his expression serious. “This isn’t about them right now. This is about us.”
By the time we stumble back to the cabin, the cold barely registers beneath the heat building between us.
We never make it past the front door.
Morgan kicks it shut behind us and presses me against the wood, his hands already tugging at my coat, his mouth crashing into mine again, rougher now. Desperate.
“Aria,” he growls against my lips.
His hands are everywhere—pulling off layers, cupping my breasts through my sweater, squeezing my ass until I gasp. I fumble with his jeans, breath hitching when I feel how hard he is.
“Jesus, Aria,” he groans as my fingers wrap around him.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing and carries me to the couch, laying me down gently before peeling the rest of my clothes away. His eyes roam over every inch of me, dark with desire but also something deeper—something that makes me feel cherished rather than just wanted.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, kneeling between my legs. “And I’m gonna prove it to you.”
And he does.
With his hands and his mouth, Morgan worships me. He takes his time, learning what makes me sigh, what makes me moan, what makes me arch off the couch and beg for more.
“Please, Morgan,” I gasp as his tongue works magic between my thighs.
He crawls up my body, pressing kisses along my stomach, between my breasts, up my neck until he captures my lips again. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it only makes me want him more.
“I need to hear you say it,” he husks, his forehead pressed against mine. “I need to know this isn’t just physical for you.”
My hands frame his face, forcing him to look at me. “I’m falling for you too, Morgan.”
Something breaks open in his expression—relief, joy, and desire all mixed together. When he finally thrusts inside me, it’s not rushed. It’s not frantic.
It’s serious—even if neither of us is ready to fully name it yet.
He moves with purpose, his eyes never leaving mine, one hand supporting his weight while the other traces patterns on my skin.
“I’ve never felt this way,” he confesses between thrusts, his voice ragged. “Never thought I could feel this way about anyone but?—”
“I know,” I quietly assure him, understanding exactly what he can’t say. “It’s okay.”
And somehow, in this moment, it is. Whatever complicated feelings exist between all of us in this cabin, what Morgan and I are sharing right now is real.
We find our rhythm together, bodies moving as one, breaths syncing until I can’t tell where I end and he begins. WhenI finally shatter beneath him, chanting his name, he follows immediately, burying his face in my neck and holding me like he never wants to let go.
After, we lie tangled together, my head on his chest, his fingers trailing lazy circles along my back. The steady thump of his heart beneath my ear becomes the most comforting sound I’ve ever heard.
“What happens now?” I inquire softly, tracing the contours of his chest.
He presses a kiss on the top of my head. “I don’t know. But I know I’m not letting you go.”
Snow falls again outside the window slowly.
But inside this cabin, wrapped in Morgan’s arms, everything is warm.
And quiet.
Just like he said I make him feel.
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