The smirk on my lips felt more natural than I expected, a cocky edge to it that masked the nervous flutter in my chest. Quincy's words hung in the air between us—"Be gentle, okay? It's my first time"—and I could see the mix of anticipation and vulnerability in her wide eyes. The rain pounded harder against the cabin roof, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to echo the racing pulse I felt under my fingertips where they rested on her collarbone.
"I meant it," I murmured, my voice low and steady as I leaned down, brushing my lips against her forehead, then her temple. "Gentleman, remember? But only as gentle as you want me to be." My hand trailed down from her chest, fingers dancing lightly over the oversized polo shirt—my shirt—that draped loosely over her frame. It was comically large on her, the hem riding up just enough to tease a glimpse of her smooth thigh when she shifted beneath me.
She let out a soft, breathy laugh, her hands sliding up my arms to grip my biceps. "I trust you, Al. Just... don't stop." Her voice was a whisper, laced with that same possessiveness from earlier, but now it carried a hunger that made my blood heat. Her legs parted slightly, inviting me to settle more fully between them, and I did, my weight pressing her into the mattress with deliberate care. The foam beneath us was surprisingly plush, yielding just enough to cradle our bodies like it had been made for this exact moment.
Our kiss reignited slowly, a languid exploration that started with soft pecks and evolved into something deeper, more urgent. Her lips parted under mine, and I tasted the faint sweetness of her—rain-kissed skin and the lingering warmth of her breath. My tongue slipped past her teeth, coaxing a quiet moan from her throat that vibrated straight through me. God, she was responsive, every little sound she made urging me on like fuel to a fire.
I pulled back just enough to look at her, my thumb tracing the swell of her lower lip. "Tell me if it's too much," I said, though part of me hoped she'd push for more. Her cheeks were flushed a deep pink, her chest rising and falling in quick rhythms, the thin fabric of the polo doing nothing to hide the way her nipples had hardened into peaks.
"Too much would be you stopping," she replied, her eyes sparkling with that wild glint I was starting to crave. She arched her back slightly, pressing herself against my hand as I cupped her breast through the shirt. The weight of it was perfect in my palm, soft and full, and I squeezed gently, rolling my thumb over the sensitive bud until she gasped, her hips bucking up instinctively.
Emboldened, I tugged at the hem of the polo, sliding it up her torso inch by inch. She lifted her arms to help, and I peeled it off in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. Underneath, she was bare—her skin glowing in the dim light filtering through the cabin's single window, rain-streaked and flawless. Her breasts were pert and inviting, the rosy tips begging for attention, and lower, the gentle curve of her waist flared into hips that promised sin.
"You're beautiful," I breathed, the words slipping out unbidden. It wasn't flattery; it was fact. Quincy had always been the vibrant one, the girl who lit up rooms, but seeing her like this—vulnerable, eager, utterly mine in this stolen moment—hit me harder than any dungeon boss ever could.
She bit her lip, a shy smile breaking through her boldness. "Your turn." Her fingers fumbled with the waistband of my trousers, but I caught her hands, kissing her knuckles before guiding her to the buttons of my shirt instead. We undressed each other with unhurried hands, the rain's symphony outside masking the soft rustle of fabric. My shirt came off first, her nails grazing my chest as she explored the planes of muscle there, tracing old scars from hunts I'd never actually lived through but carried anyway.
When my trousers followed, pooling at the foot of the bed, her gaze dropped, widening at the sight of me—hard and straining against my boxers. A soft "Oh" escaped her, half-surprise, half-awe, and she reached out tentatively, her fingers brushing the outline. The touch sent a jolt through me, and I groaned, capturing her wrist to still her before I lost control too soon.
"Not yet," I rasped, kissing her again to distract us both. My hand ventured lower, slipping between her thighs to find her already slick with arousal. She was warm, so damn warm, her folds parting easily under my fingers as I stroked her gently. Quincy whimpered into my mouth, her body trembling as I circled her clit with feather-light pressure, learning her rhythms—the way she tensed when I flicked too hard, melted when I soothed with broader strokes.
"Al... please," she begged, her voice breaking on a moan as I dipped a finger inside her, finding her tight and welcoming. She was soaked, her inner walls clenching around the intrusion like she was made for this, for me. I added a second finger, curling them to brush that spot that made her cry out, her hips grinding up to meet my hand in desperate little circles.
"You're so wet for me," I murmured against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there. "Does it feel good? Tell me."
"Yes—God, yes," she panted, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Don't stop... it feels like... like fireworks." Her words dissolved into a keening whine as I pumped my fingers faster, my thumb pressing her clit in tandem. She was close already, her body coiling tight like a spring, breaths coming in sharp gasps. I watched her face—eyes squeezed shut, lips parted in ecstasy—and it was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. This was Quincy, the girl who'd built empires with her magic, unraveling under my touch.
"Come for me, Quin," I whispered, sucking a mark into her collarbone. "Let go."
She shattered with a cry that echoed off the wooden walls, her pussy fluttering around my fingers as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Her thighs clamped around my hand, trapping me there as she rode it out, body arching off the bed in beautiful abandon. I didn't let up, drawing out every tremor until she collapsed back, boneless and glowing, a satisfied smile curving her lips.
"Holy... that was..." She trailed off, laughing breathlessly as she pulled me down for a messy kiss. "Your turn to feel good."
But I shook my head, shedding my boxers and positioning myself at her entrance. "Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come again." The head of my cock nudged her slick folds, teasing, and she nodded eagerly, wrapping her legs around my waist.
"Slow," she reminded, though her eyes burned with need.
I pushed in inch by inch, savoring the stretch, the way she gasped and clutched at me. She was tight—impossibly so—her body adjusting with little whimpers that twisted into moans as I filled her completely. When I bottomed out, hips flush against hers, we both stilled, breathing hard, the world narrowing to the point where we joined.
"Move," she urged after a beat, rocking her hips experimentally. "Please, Al. I need you."
That was all the permission I needed. I started slow, shallow thrusts that let her feel every ridge, every pulse, building a rhythm that had her sighing in bliss. Missionary like this was intimate, perfect for her first time—our eyes locked, her hands roaming my back as I leaned down to kiss her breasts, laving attention on each nipple until they were swollen and sensitive. She arched into my mouth, chanting my name like a prayer, her pussy clenching around me with every withdrawal.
"Faster," she gasped after a few minutes, her confidence blooming as pleasure overtook shyness. I obliged, snapping my hips harder, the slap of skin on skin mingling with the rain's roar. The bed creaked beneath us, but it held—Quincy's craftsmanship, no doubt. She met every thrust, her legs tightening around me, heels digging into my ass to pull me deeper.
It was building again for her, I could tell—the flush creeping down her chest, the way her breaths hitched. "Right there—oh, fuck, Al!" Her first curse of the night, raw and unfiltered, sent a thrill through me. I angled my hips to hit that spot inside her, grinding against her clit with each plunge, and she came undone a second time, walls pulsing in rhythmic waves that nearly dragged me over the edge with her.
I pulled out just in time, panting, not ready to end it yet. "Turn over," I suggested, voice rough with restraint. "On your knees."
Quincy's eyes lit up, a mischievous spark amid the haze of afterglow. "Bossy now, are we?" But she complied eagerly, flipping onto her stomach and pushing up onto all fours, presenting herself to me. The view was obscene—her ass rounded and inviting, pussy glistening with our combined arousal, pink and swollen from my attentions. She glanced over her shoulder, biting her lip. "Like this?"
"Perfect," I growled, kneeling behind her and running my hands over her curves. I teased her entrance with my cock, sliding through her folds without entering, drawing a frustrated whine from her. "Patience, love. I want you begging."
She did, gloriously— "Please, Al, fuck me. I need it so bad"—and I sank into her from behind, the new angle letting me go deeper, hitting spots that made her scream into the pillow. Doggy style was primal, raw; I gripped her hips, pulling her back onto me as I thrust, the pace relentless now. Her breasts swayed with each impact, and I reached around to pinch one nipple, then the other, while my other hand found her clit, rubbing in tight circles.
Quincy was a live wire, pushing back to meet me, her moans turning to sobs of pleasure. "It's too much—too good—I'm gonna..." She didn't finish, exploding around me with a force that soaked my thighs, her body shaking as orgasm ripped through her. The sight of her coming apart, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream, nearly undid me. But I held on, slowing to let her catch her breath, peppering kisses along her spine.
"You're incredible," I murmured, easing out and flipping her onto her back again for a moment, just to see her face—flushed, euphoric, utterly wrecked in the best way. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her hair a wild halo against the pillow. "Best time of your life yet?"
She laughed, a giddy, breathless sound. "Keep going and it might be the best night ever." Her hands tugged at me, urging me closer. "I want to be on top now. Let me ride you."
Hell yes. I lay back, cock throbbing against my stomach as she straddled me, positioning herself with a determined glint in her eye. She sank down slowly, inch by inch, a low moan escaping as she adjusted to the fullness. Once seated, she paused, hands on my chest for balance, rocking her hips experimentally. "Oh... this feels different. Deeper."
"Take what you want," I encouraged, gripping her thighs but letting her set the pace. And God, did she. Quincy started tentative, grinding in circles that had us both groaning, then built to a bounce, rising and falling with increasing confidence. Her breasts jiggled with each descent, and I couldn't resist—sitting up slightly, I captured one in my mouth, sucking hard as she rode me.
She threw her head back, a goddess in motion, her pussy gripping me like a vice. "Al—yes, just like that!" Her rhythm faltered as pleasure built, but she powered through, chasing her peak with abandon. I thrust up to meet her, one hand sneaking between us to thumb her clit, and she came spectacularly—body convulsing, a gush of wetness coating me as she screamed my name, collapsing forward onto my chest.
That was it for me. The feel of her clenching, the heat of her skin, the raw emotion in her cries—it shattered my control. I flipped us over in one fluid motion, pinning her beneath me in missionary again, pounding into her with short, frantic thrusts. "Quin—fuck, I'm close—"
"Come inside me," she gasped, nails raking down my back. "Please, Al. I want to feel you."
Her words tipped me over. I buried myself deep, groaning her name as I spilled into her, pulse after pulse, the pleasure blinding. Stars burst behind my eyelids, my body shuddering as I rode out the waves, her arms wrapped tight around me like she'd never let go.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours, tangled and spent, the rain a soft lullaby now. I pulled out gently, a mix of our releases trickling between her thighs, and she sighed contentedly, not minding the mess. I grabbed the discarded polo, cleaning her up with tender swipes, then myself, before pulling her into my side.
Quincy nuzzled my neck, her voice sleepy but sated. "That was... beyond words. I feel like I floated away and came back changed."
I chuckled, kissing her temple. "Good. Because we're not done exploring." My hand traced lazy patterns on her hip, already stirring at the thought of more—of lazy morning sex, of trying her against the wall, of whatever wild ideas her inventive mind cooked up.
She lifted her head, eyes gleaming. "Promise?"
"Promise." And as the storm raged on outside, I meant it. In this cabin, in this world I'd stumbled into, Quincy wasn't just a chapter from someone else's story. She was mine, and I was hers—rain or shine, dungeon or dorm, forever if we played our cards right.
But for now, sleep claimed us, bodies entwined, hearts syncing to the fading patter of rain.
---
The next morning dawned gray and misty, the forest outside shrouded in a veil of lingering fog. Quincy stirred first, her leg thrown over mine, a soft hum escaping her as she stretched like a cat in sunlight—though there was precious little of that filtering through the cabin's shutters. I watched her through half-lidded eyes, admiring the way her hair cascaded in messy waves, the faint love bites I'd left on her neck blooming like secret badges.
"Morning," she murmured, propping herself on an elbow to lean over me, her breast brushing my arm in a way that was anything but accidental. Her smile was wicked, the post-orgasm glow from last night still clinging to her like dew. "Sleep well?"
"Like the dead," I replied, pulling her down for a lazy kiss that tasted of sleep and satisfaction. She melted into it, her body aligning with mine effortlessly, and I felt myself hardening against her thigh. Apparently, neither of us was done yet.
She noticed—of course she did—and ground against me teasingly, a giggle bubbling up. "Eager beaver. What if I want breakfast first?"
"Breakfast can wait." My hands roamed her back, dipping lower to squeeze her ass. "But if you're hungry..." I rolled us so she was on top again, her knees bracketing my hips. She was already wet—I could feel it slicking my length as she slid along it, not entering, just teasing.
Quincy's eyes darkened with renewed heat. "You're insatiable." But she didn't complain, lifting herself to guide me in, sinking down with a shared moan. This time, it was slower, more languid—a gentle rocking that built like the morning mist, her hands braced on my chest as she circled her hips.
I let her lead, thumbs stroking her thighs, watching the pleasure etch lines of bliss on her face. She was radiant, head tipped back, lips parted as she chased her rhythm. "Feels so good," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss me deeply, her pace quickening. The wet sounds of our joining filled the cabin, obscene and intimate.
When she came, it was with a soft cry, her body trembling as she ground down hard, drawing me deeper. I followed seconds later, spilling into her with a grunt, holding her close as we rode the aftershocks.
Pancakes never tasted so good after that.
---
Days blurred into a rhythm after the cabin—classes, hunts, the usual chaos of academy life. But Quincy and I stole moments wherever we could: a quick fumble in the library stacks, her bent over a table as I took her from behind, muffling her moans with my hand; a heated shower in the dorms where she dropped to her knees, her mouth hot and eager around me until I pulled her up and spun her against the tiles, thrusting into her under the spray.
Each time, she bloomed under my touch, her pleasure my north star. The girl who'd feared abandonment now chased ecstasy with abandon, her body a map I memorized and remapped. And in those stolen highs, I found not just release, but something deeper—a tether to this world, to her, that made the transmigration feel less like a curse and more like fate.
Little did I know, the storms weren't done with us yet.