Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Morning light slipped through the half-closed curtains in thin gold lines.

Ava woke slowly, body heavy and sore in places she hadn’t known could feel sore. The sheets beneath her were cool where they weren’t still damp. Every small shift sent a dull, deep ache through her lower belly and between her thighs. She made a soft sound without meaning to — half protest, half residual sensitivity — and felt the arm around her waist tighten.

Noah was already awake.

He lay behind her, chest to her back, one heavy leg hooked over hers. His breathing was slow and even against the top of her head. When she tried to move again he made a low sound and pulled her closer, hand spreading over her bare stomach.

“Don’t,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. “Stay.”

She stayed.

For a long time neither of them spoke. The house was completely quiet. No parents. No cars in the driveway. Just the distant sound of a lawnmower somewhere down the street and the soft rhythm of their breathing. Ava’s body felt used in the most thorough way — thighs sticky, core tender, every nerve still faintly buzzing from the night before. Even the light brush of the sheet against her skin made her aware of how swollen she still was.

Noah’s hand drifted lower, slow and careful. He didn’t try to touch her where she was most sensitive. He just rested his palm over the soft curve of her lower belly, thumb stroking absently.

“How bad?” he asked after a while.

Ava swallowed. Her voice came out smaller than usual. “Sore. Really sore.”

He made a quiet sound of acknowledgment. Then he shifted, rolling her gently onto her back so he could look at her. His eyes moved over her face first — the faint redness still at the corners of her eyes from crying through the last orgasms, the sleep-mussed hair, the soft mouth. Then lower, over the faint marks his mouth and hands had left on her breasts and hips.

He sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Stay there.”

She watched him walk naked to the bathroom. The sound of water running filled the quiet. A minute later he came back with a warm, damp cloth and a dry towel. He sat on the edge of the mattress and nudged her thighs apart with careful hands.

Ava tensed on instinct.

“Easy,” he said. “I’m not starting anything. Just cleaning you up.”

The first touch of the warm cloth made her flinch and let out a soft, oversensitive sound. He worked slowly, gently wiping away the dried mess on her inner thighs and the sticky evidence between her legs. Even that light pressure pulled tiny whimpers out of her. Her hips twitched despite herself. Noah didn’t comment. He just kept his movements steady and thorough until she was clean, then patted her dry with the towel.

When he was done he tossed the cloth toward the bathroom and stretched out beside her again. This time he pulled her half on top of him so her head rested on his chest. One hand stroked slowly up and down her back.

“You good?” he asked after a while.

She nodded against his skin. “Yeah. Just… everything feels loud.”

“I pushed you hard last night.”

“I noticed.”

A quiet huff of almost-laughter moved through his chest. His fingers kept tracing idle patterns along her spine. For the first time since the weekend started, the silence between them felt easy instead of charged.

Eventually Ava’s stomach made a soft, traitorous sound. Noah glanced down at her.

“When did you last eat?”

She had to think. “Yesterday afternoon. Before…”

“Before I kept you in this bed for six hours.” He sat up, taking her with him. “Come on. Kitchen. You’re eating something before we do anything else.”

He didn’t give her a choice. He found one of his clean T-shirts and pulled it over her head, then tugged on a pair of sweatpants himself. The shirt hit mid-thigh on her and smelled like him. Walking downstairs made the residual ache between her legs flare with every step. She moved slower than usual. Noah noticed. His hand settled on the small of her back the entire way to the kitchen, steady and quiet.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of what they had done on the island the day before. Ava felt heat rise in her face and looked away. Noah didn’t comment. He just steered her toward one of the stools and started pulling things out of the fridge.

He made eggs. Toast. Cut up strawberries and set the plate in front of her with a glass of water and two ibuprofen. She took the pills without argument. They ate in relative silence, the kind that felt comfortable rather than strained. Every so often his eyes drifted over her — the way she sat a little carefully, the faint marks still visible on her thighs when the shirt rode up — but he didn’t reach for her.

Afterward he rinsed the plates and came to stand between her knees where she still sat on the stool. His hands settled on her waist, under the shirt, warm and steady.

“Talk to me,” he said. “Too much last night?”

Ava looked up at him. The morning light caught the sharp line of his jaw and the faint shadow of stubble. She shook her head slowly.

“It was a lot. But I didn’t want you to stop.”

Something in his expression softened, just slightly. He leaned in and kissed her — slow, unhurried, nothing like the hungry way he had taken her mouth the night before. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against hers for a second.

“Good. Because I’m not done with you this weekend. But I’m going to give your body a few hours before I take you apart again.”

The words sent a low, involuntary pulse through her despite the soreness. Noah noticed the way her breath caught. His mouth curved, quiet and knowing.

“Later,” he said. “Right now you’re going to sit on the couch with me and we’re going to do absolutely nothing. You can fall asleep on me if you want. I’m not moving until you feel steady again.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply picked her up off the stool — careful of how she winced — and carried her into the living room. They settled on the large sectional with her half in his lap, his arms around her, the television on low in the background for noise more than entertainment.

Ava let herself relax against him by degrees. The steady beat of his heart under her ear, the slow stroke of his hand up and down her arm, the residual tenderness between her legs that flared every time she shifted — all of it settled into something quieter than the night had been.

For the first time since the tutoring sessions started, they simply existed in the same space without the heat immediately taking over.

Noah’s fingers drifted through her hair.

“We’ve still got all of Saturday and most of Sunday,” he said after a long while, voice low. “I’m going to use every hour. But I’ll make sure you can still walk when your mom gets home.”

Ava made a soft sound that was almost a laugh and pressed her face into his neck.

Outside, the day was bright and ordinary.

Inside the empty house, her stepbrother held her while her body slowly stopped trembling, already counting down the hours until he decided she was ready for more.

And for the first time, the thought didn’t scare her.

It only made her press closer.