FIRST DATE (III)

RYAN

The rush of the waterfall was relentless, drowning out everything except the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I looked down at her—at Violet, lying so small and fragile on the soft mossy ground.

She was wrapped in my jacket now, her delicate frame nestled against me like she belonged there. And she did. She fucking did.

My fingers skimmed over her damp hair, and I couldn't stop the satisfied smirk tugging at my lips. She’d given herself to me—trusted me in a way I hadn’t expected. She’d let me be her first. That thought alone sent a surge of pride rushing through me.

Looking down at her flushed cheeks and the way she clutched the edges of my jacket, I felt a possessiveness settle deep in my chest. No one else would ever touch her like that. No one else would ever see her like I just had. She was mine now, and there wasn’t a force on this planet that could take her from me.

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy and half-lidded, and she looked up at me with the softest smile I’d ever seen.

“Hey,” I murmured, brushing my thumb across her cheek.

“Hey,” she whispered back, her voice quiet but steady.

“Are you okay?”

Her lips curled into a shy smile. “Better than okay.”

Damn, if that didn’t feel like a punch of pure adrenaline straight to my chest. I’d done that—I’d made her feel like this. And I’d be damned if I ever gave her a reason to regret it.

“Good,” I said, my voice low. “Because I meant what I said. I’ll take care of you, Mouse. Always.”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and she looked away, but not before I caught the tiniest hint of a grin.

“Come on,” I said, scooping her up into my arms before she could protest. “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”

“Ryan, I can walk,” she mumbled, but her hands gripped my shoulders tightly

“I know you can,” I replied, smirking. “But why would I let you when I can carry you?”

I carried her to the edge of the water, setting her down gently on a flat rock. The waterfall’s mist made her skin glow in the sunlight, and I couldn’t help but stare for a moment, the sheer beauty of her leaving me momentarily speechless

“You’re going to be sore,” I murmured, letting my fingers glide a little lower, brushing against her tender folds.

Her breath hitched, a small wince escaping her lips, followed by a moan that was as much protest as it was surrender.

“Stop,” she mumbled, her eyelids shut tight as though trying to block out the sensations rippling through her.

But I wasn’t ready to stop just yet. I let my hand linger, caressing her with deliberate care, reveling in the way her body responded despite her words.

“Ryan,” she protested, nudging me weakly.

I chuckled, low and pulling my hand away. “Couldn’t help myself, Mouse,” I teased, my grin widening as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” I said, wrapping her in my jacket. She protested weakly, saying she was fine, but I wasn’t having it. I carried her over to the picnic basket.

Sitting her down on a smooth rock, I knelt before her, pulling out whatever I could find. A blanket, a thermos of hot tea, sandwiches that had been hastily thrown together earlier in the day.

“Here,” I said, pressing a sandwich into her hands.

“You’re really doing all this?” she asked

I leaned back on my hands, smirking. “What kind of guy do you think I am, Mouse? Of course I’m doing this.”

Her laughter came, soft and melodic, the kind of sound that crawled under your skin and settled there, making you feel lighter. She shook her head, the corners of her lips twitching upward.

“You don’t exactly have a track record of being this... thoughtful,” she teased, tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

“Oh, thoughtful?” I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. “So, carrying you, cleaning you up, and feeding you doesn’t make me the guy of your dreams?”

She rolled her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Maybe it’s a start.”

“A start?” I feigned offense, placing a hand on my chest. “You wound me, Mouse.”

She giggled again, her laugh infectious, and I couldn’t help the warmth that spread through me. After she’d eaten a bit more, I poured her some tea, holding the cup out to her.

“Drink,” I said

She arched a brow at me. “Bossy much?”

I smirked. “Just making sure you’re taken care of. Humor me.”

She took the cup, her fingers brushing mine, and sipped carefully. Her lashes fluttered as she drank, and for a moment, I just watched her, marveling at how she made something as simple as drinking tea look so... mesmerizing.

“What?” she asked, lowering the cup.

“Nothing,” I said, shrugging. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how pretty you look right now,” I said without missing a beat.

Her eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her tea. “Ryan!”

“What?” I grinned, leaning closer. “Can’t a guy compliment his girl?”

Her lips parted, and she stared at me, her expression softening. “Your girl, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice dropping. “My girl. Got a problem with that?”

She shook her head, her gaze dropping to her lap. “No... no problem at all.”

The shy way she said it made my chest tighten. I reached out, brushing my thumb over her cheek, forcing her to look at me.

“You know I meant what I said earlier,” I told her, my tone serious now. “I’m not gonna let you regret this. Not ever.”

Her eyes searched mine, and whatever she found there must’ve been enough because she smiled, leaning into my touch.

“So...” she started, her tone lighter, “you’re really full of surprises, aren’t you? First, the whole ‘thoughtful guy’ act, and now you’re being sweet.”

“Sweet?” I scoffed. “Don’t get used to it, Mouse. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, right,” she teased. “The bad boy who doesn’t care about anyone. How could I forget?”

“Exactly,” I said, but the grin tugging at my lips gave me away.

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of the waterfall filling the space between us. Then she broke it

“Do you ever just... not smirk?”

“Excuse me?”

“That little smirk of yours,” she said, gesturing at my face. “It’s practically a permanent fixture. Do you even know how to smile like a normal person?”

I laughed, genuinely this time, the sound rumbling in my chest. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Maybe,” she said, grinning. “But at least I know how to smile.”

“Okay, Mouse,” I said, leaning closer until our faces were just inches apart. “How about you teach me?”

Her breath hitched, and for a second, she seemed to forget how to speak. Then she shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re perfect,” I countered, my voice dropping again.

She blushed, and I leaned back, content to let the moment linger. For the first time in a long time, everything felt... right.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, painting the clearing in soft orange hues, I found myself lying beside her on the blanket we’d spread out. She curled into me without hesitation, her head resting against my chest, her breath evening out as she started to drift off.

There were all kinds of sex. Sweet, sensual lovemaking. Rough, hard fucking. Casual quickies and emotional encounters, each one a different shade of intimacy. At twenty years old, I thought I’d experienced them all—every variation, every depth, every kind of connection.

And then there was Violet.

It was different with her. Intense in a way I couldn’t explain, as if the world had narrowed to just her—the way she felt, the way she tasted, the way her breath hitched and her fingers curled into my hair. Every sound she made, every inch of her body, had burrowed beneath my skin and taken root, settling something heavy and unshakable in my chest.

It felt like… cancer.

But instead of killing me, it consumed me in a way I couldn’t resist, didn’t want to resist.

She tasted so damn good, I’d wanted to stay there for hours, drawing every gasp, every moan from her lips until she was trembling. Even now, the memory of it burned through me, hot and relentless, like a drug I was already addicted to. The way she had gripped me, so tight, so perfect—it was seared into my mind, etched into my blood.

Heat flared in my chest, spreading fast and thick through my veins, until the only thing I could think about was her. The taste of her, the feel of her, the way she’d responded to me. It ignited something primal, something uncontrollable.

My gaze flicked to where she lay, peaceful and utterly unaware of the chaos she’d left behind in me. The urge to slip between her thighs, to wake her with my mouth and remind her of exactly who she belonged to, clouded my thoughts.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay rooted where I was. But God help me, she was already the sweetest kind of addiction, and I knew I’d never get enough.

Violet was everything I shouldn’t want—innocent, trusting, so damn good it made me ache. And yet, here she was, wrapped around me like she belonged there.

And the truth was, I didn’t want to let her go.

I made a silent vow: I’d make sure she never regretted this. Not for a second.

Whatever it took, I’d make her feel like the most cherished, most cared-for woman in the world. Because she deserved nothing less.