Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Haydn

The night feels far too short, slipping through my fingers like the final notes of a song I’m not ready to let go of. Dinner flows effortlessly into wine, wine into dancing, and all the while, Pia’s camera clicks softly in the background.

She’s intent on capturing everything—the stars, the moon, and me. Especially me. She claims the way I look when I’m not overthinking, when I just am, is too rare to leave unpreserved. Her lens becomes a keeper of moments I barely notice myself.

Now it’s well past midnight, the staff long gone, leaving the space ours alone. The music fades into a soft hum, and I pull her into my arms, letting the rhythm slow. The faint scent of wine and jasmine clings to her, and as we move together, her hair brushes against my cheek, a gentle reminder of how close she is.

The space between us dissolves entirely, replaced by the steady warmth of her body against mine. Her camera dangles forgotten by her side, its job done for the night, as the world narrows to just us.

Her gaze lifts to meet mine, wide and questioning, a flicker of something teasing in her expression. “We’re getting handsy, huh?”

I chuckle, the sound low and rough, because this is so her. Just when I’m ready to close the distance between us, to finally give in, she always manages to say something that throws me off balance. At first, I thought it was hesitation. A barrier she wasn’t ready to let down. But I’ve learned—oh, I’ve learned—it’s not hesitation. It’s her way of toying with me, drawing me in closer, making me want her even more.

“If you let me,” I murmur, leaning down until my lips are barely an inch from hers, “I’ll show you just how handsy I can get.” My voice drops, rough and hungry. “So fucking handsy, Pia, that I’ll have my fingers inside you, making you scream my name. If you’ll let me.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, the teasing glint in her eyes falters, replaced by something deeper, something raw. I don’t wait for her to answer. My mouth claims hers, no longer holding back the storm I’ve been keeping at bay. The kiss isn’t soft or tentative—it’s hungry, wild, a clash of need and want that leaves no room for hesitation. Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as she gasps against my lips.

I press her back against the low coffee table behind her, smooth and sturdy beneath her thighs as I cage her in. The terrace is quiet, the only sounds are the soft rustle of the lake breeze and her quickened breaths. My fingers weave through her hair, gently tugging, tilting her head back to expose the elegant curve of her neck. My lips claim hers, hungry and insistent, tasting the faint sweetness of wine mixed with something uniquely her.

Her hands clutch at my shoulders, pulling me closer as her body arches into mine, the cool night air brushing against us. The hem of her oversized sweater rides up slightly as I press closer, revealing a sliver of skin above the waistband of her leggings. My mouth trails down her jaw to just beneath her ear, and she gasps softly, her fingers tangling in my hair.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” I murmur against her skin, my voice low and rough. “No idea how much I want you.”

The heat between us builds, electric and all-consuming, as my hands glide down her sides. I press my palm against her hip, my thumb teasing the edge of her leggings. “You’re so fucking perfect like this, baby. Soft, warm, and all mine.”

She trembles under my touch, her breath hitching as I nudge her thighs apart, positioning myself between them. Her sweater slips higher, exposing the curve of her waist, and I press a kiss there, savoring the way her body responds to me.

The patio couch catches my eye—wide and inviting under the starlit sky. Without breaking the kiss, I grip her thighs and lift her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist. She lets out a soft gasp, her lips brushing against my neck as I carry her the short distance and lay her down on the plush cushions.

Her sweater rides up further as she shifts beneath me, and I slide it higher, exposing the smooth expanse of her stomach. My hands roam over her skin, warm and soft beneath my touch. “God, look at you,” I rasp, settling over her. “I’ll never get enough of this. Never get enough of you.

“You want to take a picture of me, baby?” I murmur, my voice a low rasp as I pull back just enough to catch her gaze. She looks at me, pupils wide, her chest rising and falling quickly. My lips curl into a wicked grin as I lean closer, my breath brushing against her skin. “How about you capture me while I’m licking your sweet pussy? Huh? While I’m making you moan for me?”

Her breath stutters, her lips parting as though she wants to answer, but no words come out. She just stares at me, eyes dark with need, her hands clutching at my shoulders like I’m the only thing holding her steady. The teasing is gone now, replaced with raw, unfiltered desire. Her silence speaks louder than anything she could say—she wants this. She wants me.

My thumb brushes over her bottom lip, lingering there before I trail it down, skimming the delicate curve of her neck. Her pulse beats hard under my touch, and I feel a surge of possessive hunger rise in my chest. My lips follow the path of my thumb, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, her collarbone. Each kiss leaves her trembling, her fingers tightening their grip on me.

I grip the hem of her sweater, tugging it upward in one swift motion, exposing the smooth expanse of her skin. She shivers under my touch as I toss the sweater aside, my hands gliding over her hips. My fingers hook into the waistband of her leggings, and I pull them down slowly, savoring the way her body responds to me—the way her breath catches, the way her thighs tense as I push the fabric past her knees.

My mouth finds her bare shoulder, trailing down to the curve of her breast as my hands roam, every inch of her soft and yielding beneath me. Her head falls back, lips parted, a quiet gasp slipping free as I press closer, my body flush against hers.

“Ophelia,” I murmur, my voice thick with want as I glance up to meet her gaze. “Tell me what you want, baby. Say the words.”

Her eyes lock with mine, and the sheer vulnerability in her expression threatens to undo me completely. Her hands slide up to cup my face, pulling me back to her, and her lips crash into mine—fierce, needy, leaving no room for doubt. Her answer is clear, spoken through the trembling urgency in her kiss, the way her fingers cling to me like I’m the only thing she wants in this moment.

“Talk to me, baby,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to drop my gaze to where I need her most. My breath hitches as I take in the sight of her—wet, glistening, perfect. I lick my lips, the anticipation almost too much to bear. “Fuck, look at you. You’re already dripping. Is that for me, baby? Tell me. You want me to drink you? You want my mouth on your sweet little pussy? Say it.”

Her cheeks flush, her lips parting as she struggles to find her voice, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. “Lick my pussy,” she finally whispers, her voice breaking on the words like she’s barely holding it together.

I groan, low and deep, as her words send a jolt of heat straight through me. “Good girl,” I rasp, lowering myself between her legs. I nudge her thighs apart with firm hands, spreading her wide, exposing every inch of her to me. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty down here. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

Her thighs tense under my palms as I lean in, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along the inside of her legs. I take my time, working my way higher, teasing her with the lightest brushes of my lips. She gasps as I pause just shy of where she wants me, my breath warm against her most sensitive spot.

“Do you feel that?” I whisper, my mouth hovering over her slick heat. I exhale softly, letting the warm air dance over her skin, and she shudders, her hips lifting toward me instinctively. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you? Say it, baby. Tell me how much you want my tongue on this perfect little cunt.”

“Please,” she breathes.

“Yes,” she gasps, her voice shaking. “Please. Please, don’t stop.”

I hum in satisfaction, lowering my mouth back to her, and this time, I don’t hold back. My tongue finds her clit, swirling and flicking in just the right rhythm, drawing a choked moan from her lips. Her thighs tremble against me as I press deeper.

“That’s it,” I murmur between strokes, my voice muffled against her. “Let me hear you, baby. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

Her cries grow louder, more desperate, and I know she’s close, teetering on the edge. I double down, sucking her clit into my mouth, holding her open, vulnerable, and entirely mine.

Her thighs tremble against my palms as I rise to my feet, towering over her. My hands slide up her body, slow and deliberate, taking in the sight of her—flushed, breathless, and so beautifully undone. Her leggings and panties lay crumpled on the ground and her sweater is long forgotten. The soft lighting glows against her bare skin, every inch of her laid out for me like a work of art.

I lean in close, kissing her deeply, my fingers brushing over the thin straps of her bra before slipping them down her arms. She gasps as the lace falls away, her nipples hardening in the cool air. My lips trail down her neck, then lower, capturing one peak with a flick of my tongue. Her hands tangle in my hair, holding me close, her body arching into mine.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I murmur, pulling back just enough to catch her gaze. “Every part of you, baby. I’m going to ruin you tonight, make you forget everything but how good I make you feel.”

Her lips part, a soft moan escaping as I step back and reach for the hem of my shirt. Her eyes stay locked on me as I pull it over my head, tossing it aside. Her gaze dips lower, following the movement of my hands as I unbuckle my belt and push my jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion. My cock springs free, hard and aching for her, and I watch her swallow, her breath hitching.

She reaches for me, her delicate fingers curling around my length, and I groan, low and guttural, as she gives me a slow, teasing stroke. “Fuck,” I hiss, gripping her wrist gently to stop her. “If you keep doing that, I won’t last long enough to bury myself inside you.”

Her lips curve into a sly smile, but I don’t give her a chance to respond. I take myself in hand, pumping slowly, watching the way her eyes darken, the way her thighs clench at the sight. “You want this, don’t you?” I ask, my voice rough. “You want me to fill you up, fuck you raw the way you love?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need. “Please.”

“You’ve been mine for over a year,” I say, stroking myself as I step closer. “No condoms, no barriers. Just me, giving you everything. And every time, you take it so fucking well.” I guide the tip of my cock to her entrance, dragging it through her slick folds, teasing her as she gasps and writhes beneath me. “You’re so wet, baby. So ready for me. You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? Waiting for me to fuck this perfect little pussy.”

“Yes,” she whimpers, her hands clutching at my arms as I press just the tip inside her. “God, yes.”

I groan as her heat wraps around me, and I push in slowly, inch by inch, savoring the way she stretches to take me. “That’s it,” I murmur, my voice thick with need. “Take me, baby. Take every inch. You feel that? That’s me, filling you up. Exactly where I belong.”

Her nails dig into my shoulders as I sink deeper, her head falling back, a soft cry spilling from her lips. “You’re so tight,” I rasp, pausing when I’m fully inside her, letting her adjust. “So fucking perfect, baby. This is mine, all mine.”

“Yours,” she whispers, her voice barely audible as her body trembles against me.

I pull back, almost all the way out, before driving into her again, harder this time, drawing a sharp gasp from her. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, and I groan at the way she clenches around me, her body so responsive, so utterly mine.

“You love this, don’t you?” I say, my pace quickening as I thrust into her, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. “You love the way I fill you up, the way I make you scream. Say it, baby. Tell me how much you love this.”

“I love it,” she cries, her voice breaking as she clings to me. “I love you. God, I love you.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, her voice breaking, and those words undo me completely. My body responds instinctively, hips driving forward in a deep, hard thrust that makes her cry out, her fingers clutching at my arms. I pause, my forehead pressed to hers, forcing myself to breathe, to focus.

“Am I hurting you, baby?” I ask softly, my hands bracketing her hips as I hold still inside her. “Tell me if it’s too much. I’ll stop.”

She shakes her head, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants. “No, I’m okay,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against mine. “You’re perfect. Just . . . don’t stop.”

Still, I’m careful, mindful of the delicate balance between giving her everything and protecting her from pain. My hands shift, one sliding to cradle her lower back, supporting her as I adjust my angle. “Tell me if anything changes, okay? I need you to feel good, baby.”

She nods, her eyes hazy with pleasure, and I start to move again, gradually building a steady rhythm. My thrusts are deep and deliberate, my movements precise as I watch her every reaction. Her moans spill freely now, her body arching into mine as I drive her higher, every stroke calculated to wring more pleasure from her.

“That’s my girl,” I murmur, my voice low and rough. “You’re taking me so well, baby. So fucking perfect, like you were made for me. Do you feel how deep I am? How I’m filling you up?”

“Yes,” she gasps, her head falling back, exposing the delicate curve of her throat. “God, yes.”

My hand slides up to cup her jaw, tilting her face back to me. “Look at me,” I growl, my pace quickening just enough to make her breath hitch. “I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you come. You’re so beautiful like this, so perfect for me.”

Her eyes flutter open, glassy with desire, and the sight is enough to drive me wild. I thrust harder now, still careful not to press too much weight against her, but enough to send her spiraling. Her cries grow louder, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.

“Come for me, baby,” I urge, my voice rough with need. “Be my good girl and let go. Let me feel you.”

Her hands clutch at my back, her nails digging in as her body tightens around me, and then she shatters. Her cry is loud and broken, her thighs trembling as her release crashes over her. The sight, the sound, the feel of her coming undone beneath me—it’s almost too much.

“That’s it,” I murmur, slowing my movements just enough to draw out her pleasure, to ride the waves with her. “So good for me, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Her body relaxes in the aftermath, but I’m still throbbing with need, desperate for my own release. Her eyes meet mine, heavy-lidded and still full of desire, and she gives me a soft, breathless smile. “I want you to come, too,” she whispers. “I want to feel you.”

I groan, driving into her again, harder now, chasing the release that’s been building from the moment I touched her. “You want me to fill you up, huh?” I rasp, my voice breaking. “Want me to come inside this sweet little pussy? Make you mine all over again?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her hands framing my face. “I want all of you.”

Her words push me over the edge. I thrust into her one last time, burying myself deep as my orgasm tears through me, hot and blinding. My groan is low and guttural, my body shuddering as I empty myself inside her, the sensation overwhelming and utterly perfect.

When it’s over, I collapse against her carefully, keeping my weight supported so I don’t hurt her. I press soft kisses to her temple, her cheek, her lips, murmuring between each one. “You’re amazing, baby. So good for me. My perfect girl.”

Her arms wrap around me, pulling me close, and I stay there, holding her, basking in the warmth of her body and the quiet, undeniable intimacy between us.