Chapter 16: Unfiltered, Unhurried, Unforgettable
May 8, 2025
“I’ve never been more sure,” I whispered.
Jake didn’t move for a second.
He just looked at me — eyes dark, chest rising slowly, like he was holding back a storm.
Then he stood and took my hand.
Led me to the bed like I was something precious, fragile, and on fire all at once.
The room felt different.
The air was thicker.
The silence was alive.
He stood over me as I sat on the edge of the bed, our hands still joined. I could see the hesitation in his eyes — not fear, but something heavier.
“Say it again,” he whispered, like he needed to believe it.
“I want you.”
That did it.
He pulled me up, lips on mine — not rough, not frantic.
Worshipping.
Like every second he’d spent waiting for this moment was finally being answered.
He peeled my shirt off slowly, eyes never leaving mine.
His fingers trembled just slightly when he unhooked my bra — and when it fell away, he looked at me like he couldn’t breathe.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
I flushed, even though he’d said it before.
But this time?
It felt real. It felt like a promise.
He leaned down and kissed the curve of my neck. Then lower.
His lips moved over my collarbone, my shoulder, the slope of my breast — so slow — like he was tasting sunlight.
Every brush of his mouth made me shiver. Every stroke of his hand grounded me and unmade me all at once.
I let him undress me completely — shorts, panties, all of it — until I was bare and trembling under his gaze.
Jake dropped to his knees in front of me, looking up with reverence.
He ran his hands up my legs, spreading me gently, like he was afraid I’d vanish if he moved too fast.
His lips touched my thigh.
Then higher.
And higher.
Until I was gasping, my head tilted back, my fingers gripping his shoulders like he was my anchor.
He took his time.
No rush. No teasing. Just steady, unrelenting worship — like he was learning what made me unravel, and he wanted to remember every note.
By the time he kissed back up my stomach and pressed his forehead to mine, I was shaking.
“Jake,” I whispered.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.”
He kissed me again, slow and deep, as he stood and stripped in front of me.
One piece at a time.
His hoodie.
His shirt.
His jeans.
His boxers.
Every inch of him was carved and commanding — but it wasn’t his body that made me breathless.
It was the way he looked at me.
Like I was his.
Like I was more than just a girl from a rival school with a broken heart.
I couldn’t look away. Neither could he.
“I started birth control last week,” I said softly. “And…”
I reached into my nightstand and pulled out a foil packet.
“Travis kept some in here. Just in case.”
Jake’s face hardened at the mention of his name.
“I hate that he even exists in this room.”
I touched his arm. “Then make me forget.”
He stared at me for one long beat.
Then tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom on.
He crawled over me, caging me beneath him — eyes locked on mine, heart thudding in his chest.
“One last time,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”
I wrapped my legs around him.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Then he pushed inside me — slowly, carefully.
I gasped.
It hurt, but it was real.
It was full.
And it was us.
Jake stilled once he was fully inside, his breath ragged, his hands cradling my face like I was made of glass.
“You’re okay?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He kissed me again — slower this time, more tender — and began to move.
It was awkward at first. New. Stretching. Burning.
But he whispered through it. Told me how good I felt. How beautiful I looked. How much he wanted to make this everything for me.
And slowly, the ache turned to heat.
Then fire.
Then bliss.
Jake moved with rhythm, with care, with need.
He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my mouth.
His hands never left my skin.
When I moaned, he moaned with me.
When I pulled him deeper, he met me like he’d been waiting years.
And when I came — full body shaking, breath gone, stars behind my eyes — he kissed my forehead like it was a prayer.
He held on just long enough.
Then he followed me over the edge, breathing my name like it was the only word he remembered.
We stayed tangled together, limbs and hearts and sweat.
My head on his chest. His fingers tracing idle patterns on my back.
I’d never felt more seen.
More wanted.
More… whole.
“I’m sorry if that hurt,” he said eventually.
I kissed his collarbone. “It didn’t. Not in the way you think.”
He looked down at me. “You’re okay?”
“I’m better than okay.”
His lips brushed my temple. We were quiet again.
But this time? It wasn’t awkward.
It was everything.
Five minutes passed.
Then I shifted on top of him, propped on my elbows, and looked down at him.
His eyes opened, slow and curious.
“Again?” I asked, half teasing.
His brows lifted. “Already?”
“I just… don’t want this to end.”
He cupped my face. “Then it won’t.”
I kissed him — slower now.
But the heat?
Still there. Still burning.
And this time?
We didn’t need to rush.
