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The salty breeze drifted in through the open windows of the cabin, barely stirring the white linen curtains. The sound of the waves crashing about fifty meters away was constant, like a background heartbeat neither of them needed anymore to feel alive.
They had waited too long.
Too many months of intense glances, of “accidental” touches that lasted a second too long, of kisses interrupted by phone calls, by obligations, by the damned world that kept turning. The wedding had been beautiful, intimate, perfect… but also a kind of delicious torture. Every “not yet” had piled up like dry kindling.
And now they were here.
The light-wood cabin alone, the porch facing the sea, a huge bed with sheets the color of damp sand, and no obligations for nine days.
Jax stood by the sliding door, barefoot, his linen shirt already unbuttoned to his navel, his hair tousled by the wind. Agatha watched him from the edge of the bed, still wearing the light beach dress she'd put on after her sunset swim. The fabric clung slightly to her damp skin on her thighs and chest.
Neither of them said anything for a long while.
They just looked at each other.
As if uttering the first word would break something.
She was the one who moved first.
She stood up slowly, barefoot as well, and walked unhurriedly toward him. When she was close enough, Jax raised a hand and brushed a wet strand of hair from her forehead. The gesture was tender… until his fingers slid to the back of her neck, tangled in her hair, and pulled firmly back, exposing her neck.
Agatha let out a short gasp.
— Jax…—she whispered, more a warning than a plea.
— No —he cut her off, his voice hoarse.— No more waiting. It's over.
He kissed her with restrained violence, as if he'd been suppressing that particular kiss for years. Tongue, teeth, hunger. She responded in kind, scratching his open chest, digging her nails in where she knew it hurt so good. Jax growled against her mouth, pushing her back without letting go until Agatha's back hit the wooden wall. The impact was sharp, but neither of them stopped.
His hands slid down her sides, bunching up her dress, then yanking it up to her waist. There was no underwear underneath—he'd known that since he'd seen her come out of the water that afternoon—and when his fingers found warm, wet skin, they both gasped at the same time.
— Fuck, Agatha…—he murmured against her neck, biting more than kissing.— You're soaking wet.
— And you've been hard for hours —she retorted, slipping a hand inside his swimsuit and roughly wrapping it around it.— Don't pretend you haven't.
Jax let out a dark, almost animalistic laugh and lifted her off the floor as if she weighed nothing. Legs around his waist, back against the wall again. He thrust into her with a single, deep push, no foreplay, no gentle caresses. They both cried out—he from how tight she was, she from how suddenly filled she felt.
There was no rhythm at first. Just raw need. Hard, chaotic, desperate thrusts. The wood creaked behind Agatha with each stroke. Her nails left red grooves on his shoulders. He bit her earlobe, her neck, the hollow of her collarbone, leaving marks that would be purple by tomorrow.
— More —she demanded, pulling at his hair.— Harder.
Jax obeyed.
He lowered her to the floor only to turn her around, put her hands on the wall, and enter her again from behind, this time deeper, wilder. The sound of skin against skin mingled with the waves and the moans neither of them tried to stifle. Agatha arched her back, seeking a better angle, more pressure. He gripped her hips so tightly he'd leave fingerprints.
— Tell me you want it —Jax growled near her ear.— Tell me.
— I want you inside me until I can't walk —she gasped.— Until it hurts. Until I can't think of anything else.
That broke him.
He thrust into her with an almost punishing fury, one hand sliding between her legs to rub right where she needed it most. Agatha came first: trembling, screaming his name, squeezing him so tightly Jax almost lost control right there. But he held on, supported her as she came, and only when Agatha's tremors began to subside did he let go.
It emptied itself inside with a low roar, pushing all the way in once, twice, three more times, as if it wanted to etch itself into her forever.
They stayed like that for a long time: him still inside, holding her from behind, their breaths ragged, sweat mingling, the sea their witness.
When he finally pulled out, Agatha turned, trembling, and kissed him slowly this time. A kiss that tasted of salt, of happy exhaustion, and of dirty promises.
— Nine —she whispered against his lips.— Nine days without leaving this cabin if we don't want to.
Jax smiled, that crooked smile he only gave her.
— Baby… no way we're leaving before the third day.
And he lifted her in his arms again, heading for the bed.
Because they had barely begun. He carried her to the bed as if the floor were burning hot, as if every second without touching was a punishment they could no longer endure. Jax gently laid her down in the center of the mattress, but the gentleness lasted only as long as it took him to see her lying there: tousled hair on the sand-colored sheets, dress still hiked up to her waist, legs slightly parted, breasts rising and falling rapidly, eyes shining with that mixture of defiance and surrender that always drove him wild.
He yanked off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor without looking where. Agatha propped herself up on her elbows, watching him impatiently peel off his swimsuit. When he stood naked before her, hard again, his skin still glistening with sweat and salt, she bit her lower lip and let out a trembling sigh.
— Come here —He lowered his head and began kissing her neck, slowly, leaving lingering kisses, soft sucks that turned into bites when she arched her back, begging for more. He moved down to her collarbone, to the valley between her breasts. He took one in his mouth, his tongue circling the nipple before sucking it hard. Agatha arched her back, digging her fingers into his hair and tugging. The pain made him groan against her skin.
—Like that —she gasped. — Like that, Jax. Don't stop.
He switched to her other breast as his free hand slid down her stomach, slipped between her thighs, and found that swollen, sensitive spot he knew by heart from so many nights imagining her. He grazed it with his fingertips, slow circles at first, then faster as she began to move her hips, seeking more pressure.
—I love you —he said suddenly, lifting his head to meet her eyes. — I love you so much it sometimes hurts.
Agatha looked at him, her eyes glassy, her chest heaving.
—And I love you. That's why waiting hurts so much. Because I want you inside me. I want to feel all of you. I want you to make me yours, like we've been promising each other for months.
Jax shifted his position between her legs, propped himself up on one forearm, and with his other hand guided his erection to her entrance. He entered slowly this time. Very slowly. Inch by inch. They both held their breath as their bodies finally joined without barriers, without clothes, without anything but skin and pent-up desire.
When he was completely inside, he remained still for a moment. Forehead to forehead. Their breaths mingled.
—Look at me —he asked.
Agatha opened her eyes. They were bright, almost teary with intensity.
—I feel you —she whispered. — I feel you everywhere.
Jax began to move then. Not fast. Not wild like before against the wall. But deep. Deliberate. Each thrust slow and measured, reaching the very bottom and lingering there a second before withdrawing almost completely, only to plunge in again. It was a hypnotic rhythm, torturous with pleasure.
Agatha wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, digging her heels into his lower back so he could never fully pull away. His hands slid beneath her shoulders, embracing her as if he wanted to merge with her. Their mouths met again, chaotic, breathless kisses, filled with murmured "I love yous" between moans.
—Deeper —she begged against his lips. — I want to feel you deep inside my soul.
Jax obeyed. He shifted the angle slightly, lifted her hips a little with his hands, and thrust harder, deeper. The moan that escaped Agatha was almost a stifled cry. He sped up just a little, maintaining the depth, hitting that spot inside her that made her tremble.
— Jax…— Her name came out broken in her throat. — I'm… I'm close…
—Let go —he pleaded, his voice rasping. — I want to feel you come all around me. I want you to squeeze me until I can’t take any more.
She tensed, her inner muscles contracting around him in ever-stronger waves. Jax kept up the pace, relentless, until Agatha arched her back, cried out his name, and dissolved beneath him in a long, trembling orgasm that left her gasping and tears welling in her eyes.
He didn’t stop.
He kept moving inside her, savoring every contraction, every pulse, until the pleasure of seeing her like this pushed him to the edge. He leaned down, gently biting her shoulder, and growled against her skin as he came inside her, deep, filling her with throbbing heat, with everything he’d been holding back for months.
They lay there, both trembling. Jax still inside, unwilling to withdraw. Agatha stroked his back with slow fingers, tracing the marks she herself had left.
—I love you — he whispered again, as if he needed to repeat it to believe it was true.
—And I love you —she replied, kissing his temple. —Forever.
They stayed like that for a long time. The sea continued to crash outside. The sun was beginning to set. And inside the cabin, it was just them, breathing in unison, skin to skin, knowing they had eight more days to repeat it as many times as they wanted.
Because their honeymoon... had only just begun.