Making it Right - Short Story
The wind howls outside the cabin, rattling the wooden shutters as the fire crackles warmly in the hearth. I sit cross-legged on the overstuffed armchair, arms folded, glaring at Jude as he busies himself in the kitchen. His broad shoulders and thick arms strain against the flannel shirt he always wears, and normally, the sight alone would have me softening. But not tonight. Tonight, I’m staying mad.
He glances over his shoulder, his beard twitching with a nervous smile. “Wine?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Trying to bribe me already?”
“Bribe? No,” he says, setting the bottle and two glasses on the coffee table. “More like… an offering of peace.”
With an exaggerated huff, I uncross my arms just long enough to pour myself a glass. Jude sits on the edge of the couch, towering over me even as his leg nervously bounces up and down, looking like a puppy who knows he’s chewed up the couch cushions.
“You could’ve just told me,” I say, my tone sharp but honest. “Instead of leaving me to find out from Mrs. Callahan of all people.”
“I know.” He kneels down, resting his forearms on his thighs so he’s closer to my level. “It was stupid. I was stupid.”
“You’re not wrong.” I huff out, pursing my lips and raising an eyebrow.
His lips twitch as he fights back a smile. “Can I make it up to you?”
I shrug, taking a sip of the wine. It’s my favorite, which doesn’t go unnoticed. Jude steps back, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting toward the corner of the room. Following his gaze, I spot the table he’s set up by the window, draped in a soft white tablecloth that pools slightly at the edges. Candles burn steadily, their flames casting warm flickers of light over a plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries and a vase of roses so vibrant they almost don’t look real.
The scent of vanilla and roses lingers in the air, mixing with the faint smokiness of the fireplace. It’s the kind of setup you’d see in a magazine—too thoughtful, too perfect for the grumpy giant who rarely has time for frills. Yet here it is. Here he is, standing there like a man who’s thrown everything into an apology and isn’t sure if it’s enough.
I lean back into the chair, letting the moment stretch. “You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, my tone lighter, softer now.
“I did. You mean everything to me, Lila. And when I screw up, I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it right.”
I love this man, such a cinnamon roll. My heart flutters despite my best efforts to stay mad. Still, I let him stew for a moment longer, swirling the wine in my glass.
“And here I thought you were supposed to be this rugged, take-no-prisoners type,” I tease.
Jude smirks, the spark of confidence returning to his eyes. “Only when it doesn’t involve you, sweetheart.”
Before I can quip back, he stands, pulling me gently to my feet. His large hands settle on my waist, and the size of him—the sheer presence of him—never fails to send a shiver down my spine. He bends, his lips brushing my ear. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”
The tone in his voice has heat pooling low in my belly, but I tilt my chin up defiantly. “You think I’m just going to let you off the hook because you’re big and sexy and sweet?”
He chuckles, deep and low, the sound vibrating through me. “I’m hoping you’ll let me off the hook because you know I’d do anything for you.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, his mouth captures mine, warm and insistent. His beard tickles my skin as his hands slide to my hips, pulling me closer against him. My resolve crumbles, replaced by a need that burns hotter than the fire crackling behind us.
“Jude,” I whisper, my voice a mix of frustration and desire.
“Tell me what you need, Lila,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down my neck. “I’ll give you anything.”
I tug at the buttons of his flannel, my fingers trembling slightly as they brush against his chest. His skin is warm and firm under my touch, and he lets out a ragged breath when I slide my hands up his broad chest.
“You,” I say simply. “I need you, big guy. Now!”
With a growl, he scoops me into his arms, his strength effortless. I squeal, smacking his shoulder lightly, but he just grins, carrying me toward the bedroom like I weigh nothing at all.
The candles flicker in the corner of my vision, and the wineglass I left behind teeters precariously on the armrest, forgotten. All that matters is the way he feels against me—solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best possible way.
Jude nudges the bedroom door open with his foot, the hinges creaking softly as he carries me inside. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp he must have turned on earlier, the soft light casting shadows across the walls. He sets me down gently, his large hands lingering on my waist as he leans in, his forehead brushing mine.
“You’re everything to me, Lila,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know that, right?”
I cup his face, letting my fingers trace the edge of his beard. “I do. But you still need to show me.”
His lips curl into a grin, and before I can say anything else, his hands are on the hem of my shirt, sliding it up and over my head in one smooth motion. The cool air kisses my skin, but the warmth of his gaze makes me feel anything but exposed. He drinks me in like I’m the only thing in the world he wants, his fingers skimming along the curve of my hips before settling on the waistband of my leggings.
“Off,” he says, his voice rough yet tender.
“Bossy,” I tease, but the word catches in my throat as his lips find the sensitive spot just below my ear. His teeth graze my skin, and my knees go weak, but his hands are already there, steadying me.
“I’m just making sure you don’t forget who takes care of you,” he murmurs against my neck, his hands slipping beneath the waistband to tug the leggings down. He drops to his knees as he works them off, his mouth brushing the inside of my thigh as he does. The heat of his breath sends a shiver racing up my spine, and when his lips press a kiss just above my knee, I let out a soft gasp.
“Jude…” My voice is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to make him pause, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. The intensity in his gaze has my heart pounding, and I reach down, threading my fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly. “Please.”
He doesn’t rise immediately. Instead, his hands grip my hips, holding me firmly in place as he leans in. The first pass of his tongue is slow, deliberate, and utterly devastating. My breath catches, and my knees threaten to buckle, but his grip tightens, anchoring me as he tastes me like I’m his favorite meal.
“Jude,” I gasp, my fingers tugging at his hair as he groans against me, the vibration sending a shockwave through my body. He doesn’t let up, his tongue and lips working me over with the kind of precision only he knows. Every flick, every stroke, pulls me closer to the edge, and I can’t stop the whimper that escapes me.
When my legs tremble, he shifts one hand, sliding it under my thigh to lift me slightly, holding me steady as he devours me with a hunger that has my heart racing. The sheer dominance of it, paired with the way he knows exactly what I need, leaves me breathless, clinging to him as the tension builds and builds.
Just as the pressure reaches its peak, he pulls back, his beard glistening as he looks up at me with a wicked grin. “Not yet, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I’m not done with you.”
He rises in one fluid motion, his strength evident as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. His sheer size makes me feel small in the best way, but it’s the way he holds me—firm, protective, and full of purpose—that sends a shiver racing down my spine. His lips claim mine again, more demanding this time, and I lose myself in the heat of him, in the way his hands roam my body like he’s committing every curve to memory.
He steps back just enough to unbutton his flannel, his broad chest coming into view as he shrugs it off. My hands move to it instinctively, running over the firm planes of muscle as he kicks off his boots and jeans. When he’s finally as bare as I am, he lifts me again, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the bed.
The mattress dips as he lays me down, his body hovering over mine. He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek before his lips curl into a wicked grin. “Let me get more comfortable so I can eat you the way I want,” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with intent.
I smirk, trailing a finger along his jawline. “Don’t get too comfortable, big guy. I’m not letting you stop until I’m completely satisfied.”
His grin widens, and the heat in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine. “Sweetheart, that’s exactly what I’m counting on.”
His grin turns wicked as he shifts lower, settling himself between my thighs with a purposeful ease. His lips moving down my neck, grazing my collarbone, before leaving a line of searing kisses along my stomach. Each touch sends sparks racing through me, anticipation building with every second.
When his mouth finally reaches the spot I need him most, he doesn’t hesitate. His tongue teases, his lips press, and the way he devours me pulls a sharp cry from my lips. My fingers clutch the sheets as my body arches toward him, completely at his mercy.
“Good girl,” he murmurs against me, his voice rough and full of satisfaction. “I want to hear you, sweetheart.”
Jude takes his time, his lips and tongue moving against me in ways that leave me trembling beneath him. Every flick, every swirl, is calculated yet so unrestrained, as though he’s savoring every second. My hands clutch at his hair, fingers twisting into the thick strands to hold him where I need him, and when I tug a little harder, his groan vibrates against me, sending a shockwave through my body.
“You taste so damn sweet,” he rasps between strokes, his voice muffled but thick with want. “I could stay right here forever, Lila. Keep you coming on my tongue until you can’t take it anymore.”
“Jude,” I gasp, my voice breaking as I arch off the bed, my hips pressing against his mouth. He grips my thighs tighter, holding me steady, his beard rough against my skin as his tongue moves faster, more insistent. Heat pools low in my belly, coiling tighter with every second, every skilled stroke of his tongue. It’s overwhelming, and yet I can’t stop myself from chasing it, from pulling him even closer.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice dark and commanding. “Give it to me. I want all of it. I want all of you.”
The pressure inside me builds impossibly high, my breaths coming in sharp, desperate pants as I grip the sheets with one hand and his hair with the other, holding on for dear life. My body trembles uncontrollably, the tension teetering on the edge, until he presses his tongue just right, his hand sliding up to press against my lower belly, grounding me.
“Jude!” I cry out, the sound raw and unrestrained as the tension shatters. My orgasm crashes over me in waves, my body arching and quaking beneath him as I lose myself in the intensity of it all. His tongue doesn’t stop, drawing out every ripple, every pulse, until I’m gasping his name, my grip in his hair slackening as the aftershocks leave me boneless.
When I finally open my eyes, he’s rising over me, his lips swollen and his beard glistening, the look of satisfaction in his eyes pure sin. He drags a thumb over my cheek, his expression softening as he leans down to kiss me, letting me taste myself on his lips.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with restraint. “I want to lose myself in you, Lila, always.”
I pull him closer, my legs wrapping around his waist as I feel the heat of him pressing against me. “Then stop holding back,” I whisper, my voice daring. “I want you.”
His eyes darken, a growl rumbling low in his chest. “Careful, sweetheart,” he says, his hand trailing down my side to grip my hip. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
“Try me,” I taunt, tugging him closer with my legs.
Jude answers with a sharp thrust that takes my breath away, and I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. He groans low and deep, his head falling to my neck as he stills, his body trembling with the effort to keep control.
“Lila,” he rasps, his voice a broken whisper. “You feel… incredible. Perfect. Like you were made for me.”
“Jude,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I shift my hips, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back. I need you.”
His groan is guttural, raw, as though my words unravel whatever restraint he has left. “You want it hard, sweetheart?” he growls, lifting his head to meet my gaze, his eyes blazing with heat. “Then you’re going to get it hard.”
The first thrust is sharp, jolting me as he drives deep, his body pressing flush against mine. I gasp, arching into him as he sets a relentless pace, each snap of his hips sending a shockwave through me. His hands grip my hips, anchoring me as he moves, the force of his thrusts driving me higher and higher. My nails rake down his back, desperate to ground myself as he consumes me, body and soul.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, his voice hoarse and ragged. “So tight, so perfect. You take me so well, Lila.”
“Jude,” I pant, the word breaking as his movements become harder, more demanding, each thrust tearing a moan from my lips. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”
He leans down, his lips brushing my ear as he growls, “Not until I give you everything, sweetheart.”
The intensity builds to an unbearable crescendo, my body trembling beneath him, toes curling as the pressure coils tighter and tighter. Just when I think I can’t take any more, Jude shifts, pulling out and flipping me onto my stomach with an ease that leaves me breathless.
Before I can process, he’s behind me, pressing me down with one large hand on the small of my back while the other grips my hip, hard enough to bruise. “Stay right there,” he commands, his voice dark and filled with promise.
I bite my lip, the raw authority in his tone sending a thrill through me as I obey, arching my back just enough to meet him. He enters me again in one powerful thrust, and I cry out, clutching the sheets as he sets a brutal rhythm, each snap of his hips pushing me further into the mattress.
“You like that, don’t you?” he growls, his hand sliding up to fist my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head back. “You like it when I take you like this?”
“Yes,” I gasp, my voice barely audible over the sound of our bodies moving together. “Jude, yes!”
“Good,” he bites out, his hand sliding back to grip my waist, his fingers digging into my skin. “Because I’m not stopping until you come on my cock so hard you see stars.”
The angle, the force, the sheer intensity of him is too much, and yet it’s not enough. My body burns, every nerve on fire as he takes me, his groans and the filthy words he murmurs spurring me on. The tension builds impossibly high, my breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps as I chase the release that’s just out of reach.
Then his hand slides around, finding the bundle of nerves at my center, and my entire body shatters. The orgasm crashes over me in waves, white-hot and all-consuming, my scream muffled as I bury my face in the pillow. My body clenches around him, and he groans, his movements growing erratic as he follows me over the edge, his release hitting with a growl so deep it reverberates through me.
He collapses beside me, pulling me close as our breathing slowly evens out. His lips press a soft kiss to my temple, his hand trailing lazily up and down my back.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his voice still rough.
I let out a soft laugh, curling into his chest. “More than okay. That was… I don’t even have words.”
“Good,” he says with a grin, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Because I’m not done showing you how much I love you.” Then he leans in and kisses me tenderly. His hands smoothing over my curves so softly, I can barely feel them.
After he thoroughly worships my body again, we lay tangled together, our limbs a mess of heat and exhaustion. The fire crackles softly in the corner, its warm glow casting flickering patterns across the wooden walls. Shadows dance over the bed, playing across the planes of Jude’s face as he pulls me closer. The scent of burning wood lingers in the air, mingling with the musk of our skin, and the soft hum of his breathing fills the quiet space around us.
Jude brushes his lips against my temple, his beard tickling my skin. “Am I forgiven?” he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with a hint of playful vulnerability.
I smirk, tracing lazy circles on his chest, my nails lightly grazing his skin. “You’re getting there,” I tease, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
He chuckles, the sound low and satisfied as his hand trails lazily up and down my spine. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”
“Mm, you’re off to a decent start,” I reply, letting my lips brush over the edge of his jaw. “But don’t think for a second you’re off the hook just yet.”
His grin widens, and he rolls us slightly, tucking me against his side as his fingers sweep a strand of hair from my face. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb lingers on my cheek, makes my heart flutter despite my best efforts to keep my sass intact.
“Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady. “Because I plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
I pause, the weight of his words sinking in, and for a moment, I can’t think of anything snarky to say. Instead, I press a kiss to his chest, right above his heart, and let myself settle against him. The firelight flickers, casting us in a golden glow, and the world outside the cabin feels miles away.
“You’re lucky I love you,” I whisper, my voice softer now, the truth of it wrapping around us like a blanket.
Jude tightens his arm around me, his lips brushing the top of my head. “No, Lila,” he says, his voice full of quiet conviction. “I’m lucky you love me back.”
And as the fire crackles softly in the background, I close my eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat carry me into the kind of peace only he can give.
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