Play With Me || 2 || Off the Ice Series

12 | The 'Nothing More' *

JASON

Her words cut through me, sharp and cold, even as I try to hold onto the heat of our kiss. "Nothing more," she says, over and over, like she's trying to convince herself as much as she's trying to convince me. And maybe she is. Maybe she needs to believe that this is just sex, just something physical, something that won't mean anything once we get off this island.

But I know better. I can see it in the way she looks at me, the way her hands linger on my skin, the way her breath hitches when I touch her. This isn't just sex for either of us, no matter how hard she tries to deny it.

But I can't push her. Not now. Not when she's so close to shutting down, to pulling away completely. So I nod, agreeing to the lie she needs to tell herself, even though it goes against everything I'm feeling, even though it kills me to hold back.

"Nothing more," I repeat, letting the words hang in the air like a promise, even though we both know it's a lie.

And then I kiss her again, because I can't not kiss her, because even if this is all we'll ever have, I need it. I need her.

The water is cool against my skin, but I barely feel it, too focused on the way her body fits against mine, on the way her lips move against mine, on the way everything about her feels like coming home. I've been chasing this feeling for longer than I care to admit, and now that I have it, I don't want to let it go.

But I can feel her hesitating, feel the way she's holding back, even as she kisses me like she can't get enough. It's like she's caught between wanting me and being afraid of what that means, and I don't know how to fix that. I don't know how to convince her that it's okay to let go, to trust me, to let herself feel something more.

So I take what she's willing to give, even though it's not enough, even though I want so much more. I kiss her like it's the last time, because maybe it is. Maybe after this, she'll pull away again - this time completely, build those walls back up, and I'll be left with nothing but the memory of her touch.

But I can't think about that now. Not when she's in my arms, not when she's looking at me like I'm the only thing keeping her grounded. So I kiss her, and I let myself get lost in her, even though I know it's dangerous, even though I know it's going to hurt like hell when it's over.

And when she pulls back again, her breath ragged, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and fear, I force myself to smile, to pretend that this is enough, that I can live with the boundaries she's set.

But deep down, I know I'm lying to myself. Because this—whatever this is—will never be enough. Not for me. Not when it's her.

"Nothing more," she says again, her voice a little steadier now, and I nod, even though the words taste like ash in my mouth.

"Nothing more," I echo, and this time, I mean it. Because if this is all she can give me, then I'll take it. I'll take it and hold onto it for as long as I can, even if it's not enough. Even if it breaks me in the end.

Because I'd rather be broken than never have her at all.

So I kiss her.

Her arms wrap around me, pulling herself into me like she's trying to sink into me, her peeked nipples running up my chest. I groan, the sound guttural, and I'm not afraid to admit that she makes me weak, makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and run off with her like some type of caveman.

The heat of Arden against me is like nothing I've ever felt. I'm lost in the way her body molds to mine, every soft curve, every little gasp that escapes her lips. It's pure fire, and the moment she pulls me closer, her body pressing against mine, any last restraint snaps.

I can feel every inch of her, the rise and fall of her chest, her breathing shallow and fast. She threads her fingers into my hair, tugging just enough to make my pulse kick up, to pull a groan out of me I can't hold back. Her touch is everywhere, leaving a trail of heat that's going to brand me for life, and for once, I don't care. I don't care about anything but this moment, about taking everything she's offering.

Her legs wrap around my waist, and it's all I can do not to crush her against me as I lay her back onto the sand, my hands roaming her body, memorizing every curve, every delicate line. There's a wild look in her eyes, a kind of need I know I can match, and it drives me, pushes me to meet her, to give her everything she needs and then some.

I'm moving without thinking, just feeling—her hands pulling me closer, her nails digging into my back, leaving scratches that make me groan. I press kisses down her neck, savoring every sound she makes, every way she arches into me, desperate and wanting. She says my name, breathless and raw, and it's enough to shatter any semblance of control I might have had left.

Her skin is warm under my hands, soft and smooth, and she feels so right. She's all I can see, all I can hear, and I can't get enough. She moves with me, every shift of her hips, every gasp, every little tremble pushing me higher until nothing else matters. I grip her hips, holding her in place as I drive us both to the edge, as I lose myself in her completely.

And when we finally fall, when the world blurs and fades around us, all I can feel is her, all I can hear is her voice, soft and breathless, saying my name like it's all that matters.