Page 61 of Mistletoe and Mayday
For a moment, we just breathe together. His weight pins me to the table, solid and real. I run my fingers through his hair, memorizing the texture, the way it curls slightly when damp with sweat. Committing to memory what I’ll never have again.
Sebastian carries me to the bed. My skin still tingles, oversensitive from my orgasms, but I need more. Need everything he can give me. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet.
I slide my hand between us as he lays me down, wrapping my fingers around him. He’s already hardening again at my touch.
“Bailey,” he groans, the sound vibrating through his chest.
My body still hums, almost painfully sensitive, but the thought of him inside me again makes me ache. I guide him back to my entrance, gasping at the contact.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips. “One more time.”
He pushes in slowly this time, careful, like he knows how oversensitive I am. The sensation is almost too much—pleasure edging into sweet pain. My nerves feel raw, exposed, everytouch magnified.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, urging him deeper. “More.”
His hips snap forward, and I cry out at the intensity. It’s too much and not enough all at once. My whole body trembles, overwhelmed by sensation.
“Like this?” he asks, voice rough as he maintains the punishing pace.
“Yes,” I gasp, arching into him. “Don’t stop.”
My overstimulated body doesn’t know whether to push into the pleasure or pull away. Each thrust sends shockwaves through me, making me shake and whimper.
He captures my mouth in a messy kiss, swallowing my moans as he picks up the pace. The edge of pleasure-pain makes my toes curl, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
“Too much?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yes. Don’t stop,” I gasp, arching into him. “Please don’t stop.”
My skin feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending sparking with electricity. The worn cotton of my t-shirt scrapes against my oversensitive nipples, making me gasp. I can’t take it anymore—I need it off, need to feel his skin against mine.
I grab the hem of my shirt with shaking hands, yanking it over my head. The cool air hits my heated skin, making me shiver. Sebastian’s eyes darken as he takes in my bare chest, his hands sliding up my ribs.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes, and for once, I don’t argue or deflect with a joke. I just arch into his touch, desperate for more contact.
The bed rocks beneath us as he drives deeper, harder. I’m oversensitive everywhere he touches—his hands on my thighs, his mouth on my neck, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside me.
My third orgasm builds slower but more intense. Like electricity crackling under my skin. Every thrust sends shockwaves through my overstimulated body. I’m babbling now, a stream of “please” and “more” and his name over and over.
The pleasure crests and breaks through me in waves as Sebastian groans above me, his hand working between us. His muscles tense, jaw clenched in that way that makes him look almost pained. Hot spurts paint my stomach and breasts as he releases with a broken sound that might be my name.
Red light floods the cabin. The rescue flare tears through the darkness outside our window, turning everything blood-red. The sudden illumination catches on Sebastian’s sharp cheekbones as he leans down, his lips touching mine.
My heart splinters in my chest, each piece catching the crimson glow like broken glass. His eyes meet mine, and I see my realization mirrored there—this is the end. Reality has found us, crashed through our bubble with the same violent suddenness as that flare.
He says nothing. Doesn’t need to. His thumb traces my lower lip with a tenderness that makes my throat ache. The gesture feels like a promise neither of us can keep, an acknowledgment of what might have been in another life, another world.
I’ve always known this was temporary. A beautiful accident born of survival and proximity. But as Sebastian’s face hovers above mine, painted in emergency red, I realize I underestimated how much temporary could hurt.
“I guess they found us,” I whisper, my voice catching in my throat.
Sebastian pulls away, the warmth of his body leaving mine as he stands. I watch him grab his pants, pulling them on with that same efficient grace that used to irritateme only days ago.
“I should…” He gestures toward the door, but his eyes never leave mine.
“Yeah,” I agree, though everything in me wants to say no, to pull him back into bed, to freeze time before the real world can reclaim us.
I wrap the blanket around myself as Sebastian disappears outside. Through the window, I watch him walk into the clearing, arms raised toward the swirling lights above.
