Chapter 12 - Russell

"You look so beautiful like this," I murmur, brushing Lyla's tousled hair back from her flushed face.

What I don't tell her is how nervous I was at first, unsure if I'd even be able to stay hard. But the moment I sank into her wet pussy, all doubts fled.

"Can I go faster?" I rasp out.

Lyla nods eagerly. I capture her lips as I increase the tempo, rocking my hips back and forth. I press deeper with each powerful thrust, hands roaming her soft curves hungrily.

There's so much new territory to explore; I don't even know where to put my hands next. But I know there's nobody else I'd rather have this first experience with.

Lyla's inner walls flutter and grip me tightly. An unspoken plea for me to let go. But I'm not ready for this incredible feeling to end just yet.

I need more time buried in her welcoming body, even if just a few breathless seconds more.

I force myself to slow down, keeping a steady rhythm despite the burning urge to let go. But Lyla feels too incredible around me to let this end so soon.

She trembles beneath my strokes, wrapping her arms around me as nails rake deliciously down my back. The sharp sting helps ground me in the moment.

"Can't...last..." I grit out in warning.

"Then don't," she pants. "Let go, Russell."

I drink in her flushed, lust-glazed features - sweaty tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead, lips parted enticingly. I can't resist leaning down to claim them once more.

Then I'm driving into her, hips thrusting hard and fast until the coiling tension finally breaks. I bury myself to the hilt as I climax in hot spurts, Lyla arching beneath me.

We lie spent afterward, bodies exhausted and tingling. I roll onto my back, chest still heaving.

"That was...incredible," I rasp out.

Drawing her into my arms, I can't fathom how I'm supposed to return to living without this intimacy.

"That was fantastic," she sighs, rolling to snuggle against my side with her head on my chest.

I wonder if she can hear how wildly my heart is still pounding.

"I don't know how I'll live without doing that again," I admit gruffly.

Lyla props herself up on one elbow to study me.

"Why wouldn't we repeat it?"

"Well, I assumed you'd be leaving in a few hours—or a day at most," I trail off awkwardly.

She stiffens, eyes flashing, "Is that what you want? For what we just shared to mean nothing?"

"No, of course not!" I protest quickly. "Lyla, I might have just met you, but I've never felt this...comfortable. Peaceful."

"Then why are you pushing me away already?" she demands.

I shake my head slowly, an uncomfortable realization dawning.

"I'm not trying to. At least, I don't think I am."

Am I unconsciously distancing myself out of long-held habit? As incredible as this intimacy was, the idea of asking someone to stay—to intrude on my solitary existence—honestly terrifies me.

Lyla's voice cuts through my swirling thoughts, "Well? Do you want me to go or stay?"

My heart stutters in my chest as I consider her loaded question. I know the answer I want to give. So why can't I force the words out?

Lyla gets up and starts dressing, and I can't tear my eyes away from the sway of her ass as she wiggles into her pants.

She's really going to walk away after what we just shared. After cracking open a part of me I thought was dead and buried.

My mind flashes to Aaron - the friend I lost overseas. He'd call me ten kinds of idiot for letting this slip through my fingers out of fear.

I can practically hear his rough voice now: "Don't be a dumbass, Russ. Go after her!"

Moving purely on impulse, I jump up and hurry over, catching Lyla's hand before she can finish dressing.

"What are you doing?" she asks, brow furrowed.

"I don't want you to go," I blurt out. "I want you to stay here...with me. We can spend our days together - exploring, bathing in the lake. I'll even make supply runs into town for better food sometimes." I take a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand in mine. "Just...stay. Please."

Lyla's eyes widen, and a tear trickles down her flushed cheek.

"Are you sure?" she asks in a small voice. "Because I'm feisty and stubborn, but I have a heart, too. I can't bear having it broken."

I reach out to cup her face, thumbs brushing away the dampness.

"I've never been surer of anything. I want you here, Lyla. All of you." My throat feels tight as I lay myself bare, "I want to know everything about you - your childhood dreams, your favorite books, that silly show you can't get enough of. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake you with kisses in the morning."

She throws her arms around me fiercely, burying her face against my chest.

"You're an idiot," she mumbles, voice muffled. "But you're my idiot now. And I'm never leaving you."

I hold her close, pressing my lips to her hair.

"I'm...broken, Lyla. In ways I've never admitted out loud before. But I'll try my damnedest to be better. For you."

Pulling back, she cups my face in her soft palms, "Then we'll do it together. I'm here - to take care of you when nightmares strike, or you just need someone's hand to hold."

After years of guilt and pain, I've finally found someone worth changing for, someone in whom I can place my hopes again.