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All of Eden's plates are chipped. Some are much worse off than others, but they all have at least a sliver missing from the edge. You pick the nicest of the bunch, and pile it high with scrambled eggs.
Eden is cleaning his gun at the table. He's moved past the careful process of taking it apart - something he does so quickly you've never been able to follow the steps - and has started on polishing every dismantled piece.
"Going out today?" you ask, setting his breakfast in front of him.
Eden doesn't look up from his task as he answers you. "Might step out, after lunch."
The silence that hangs between you is ordinary; just another familiar part of the quiet routine that you've found yourself settling into at the cabin. You turn back to the stove, and dish up your own breakfast on a plate with a tiny triangular chip.
Eden has already started eating by the time you take your place across from him, and you dig in too, ravenous after the exertion of last night.
You swear you can still feel him between your thighs.
"Think you'd be able to bring back some berries tonight?" you ask. "I can make us something sweet if you find any."
Eden pauses, and makes a low sound in the back of his throat.
"You seem eager to get me to leave."
Your foot brushes his leg underneath the table, sliding all the way up to his knee.
"...Maybe I'm planning to run away."
You look over at him as you say it, eyes hooded with unconcealed secrecy. Eden returns your gaze, staring you down without moving a muscle before he looks back at his gun. As his eyes move away, you catch the quick twitch of his smile.
"You can try," he says simply.
The pit starting to form in your stomach flares low with heat.
☙
Eden stays close to home. He chops wood, weeds the garden, and spends an inordinate amount of time cataloging the jars of preserves shoved in his cabinets. A chore that he's never once done before; not as far as you’ve seen, anyway.
Though he keeps to himself, you can't help but feel like Eden is breathing down your neck. You've been cleaning the same window for ten brutally long minutes, waiting for him to head out on his hunt.
The heat that rages between your legs is unbearable now; begging to rub up against something. To straddle his waist and feel the whole, rough stretch of him, sliding in as his teeth nip your neck. You peek out of the window again. He's still right where he was before - infuriatingly - starting to chop yet more firewood.
This has been long enough. That's what you tell yourself as you hold your breath, easing open the front door of the cabin. The hinge squeaks, and you freeze in place, not daring to move until you've made sure the steady sound of Eden's axe is continuing uninterrupted.
You gather the loose fabric of your skirt - far from the most sensible clothing to wear when you're running and crouching your way through the woods - and tiptoe down the porch, stepping lightly over the loose second board.
You can't help but glance back at him. Eden is facing away from you, still absorbed in the rhythmic task of lifting his axe and bringing it down. You hurry to look away; you can't afford to distract yourself now, at this critical junction.
The sound of his axe grows fainter and fainter, as you slip between the trees.
☙
The forest is peaceful; at odds with the hammering rush of your pulse. You force yourself to move steadily, not give in to the frantic way that your feet want to fly over the leaf litter.
A twig snaps deliberately to your left, and you skitter to shelter yourself in a bush. The smile is already blossoming on your face.
"I know you're out here." Eden calls, without urgency, from the trees. Too close. "Didn't cover your tracks. Sloppy."
You bite back an excited laugh, holding your tongue with your teeth as both hands press against your mouth. Eden's footsteps are heavy, unmasked. It sounds like he's a few paces to your left, and getting farther away. Dragging it out.
"Might as well show yourself," he rumbles.
You catch a glimpse of him, sleeves rolled up and a hand rested on his belt as he looks everywhere but at your hiding place.
"Crafty little thing," Eden mutters, just loud enough for you to hear.
You dart out of the brush while his back is turned, all giddy exhilaration as you break into a run. Your feet meet the ground only briefly, before springing forward into the next step. Your lungs ache for air, even as they suck in breath after breath.
All at once, you stop, rounding a tree and then peeking back out from behind it to watch Eden stomp after you. Always the best part. But he's not anywhere to be found; the woods stare back at you, silent.
You let out a small sound of surprise as you're pushed forward, into the rough bark. Behind you, there's nothing but heat.
"Found me."
You let your eyes flutter shut, already starting to feel lightheaded.
You press back, planning to cant your hips into his, but Eden is faster. He pulls away, leaving enough space between you to thwart your plans. One hand pressed to the dip where your shoulder blades meet is enough to keep you in place.
Eden leans down. Right next to your ear.
"Found you."
There's a finality to the words when he says them, and it rushes straight down to your cunt. You try pressing back again, but Eden is careful to keep himself just out of reach. You squirm.
"Awful impatient for somebody trying to run away," he comments. You can feel the soft hem of your skirt brushing all the way up your legs. "What should I do with you, troublemaker?"
You don't answer him, focused fully on chasing the anticipation.
Rough denim brushes your bare thighs. He presses against you at last, grinding the tent in his pants against the small of your back. It's not where you want him at all, but it's better than not having him. You stretch up against his weight, holding onto the tree for leverage as you flex and twist, trying to position yourself in a way that will make Eden rub your clit.
Suddenly, your arms are swallowed up by his hands as you're yanked backwards. Thrown right down into the dirt. Eden kneels in between your legs, starting to loosen his belt. You make room for him, fighting the urge to wrap tightly around his waist, and instead let your knees fall open.
Your skirt is already hiked halfway up your legs. Eden pushes it higher, exposing you fully to the harsh bite of chill lacing the air. It’s intense.
He takes one look at you, and his lips curl up.
"Thought so."
You plead silently for him to touch you, not daring to do more than wiggle your hips. Eden pays it no mind.
As if you weren't already wet enough, he looms over and spits on you, slick warmth against your hole.
Eden's fingers slide over you, parting your lips but refusing to dip inside. You gasp, feeling the way that he swirls your lewd fluids together before brushing over your clit. Finally.
Your moan causes the birds in the trees to take flight, their wings fluttering almost as fast as your heart. You press into his hand, urging Eden to claim you. To make you his. He remains firmly unrushed, moving leisurely at his own pace. At last, you feel yourself swallow him up as he pushes a finger inside.
"Such a tease," you complain - breathless, eyes closed - as Eden's thumb swipes your clit once and then moves away.
"I can go slower."
You try - and fail - to grab onto his belt. Eden keeps the dangling leather straps just barely out of your reach.
And true to his word, he slows down. Even though the outline of his cock is so visible that you might almost be able to fuck him without taking his trousers off, Eden stays stoic, working you with his huge fingers. He doesn't respond to your frustrated sigh.
"Don't you wanna feel good, too?" you coax.
"I will."
Arguing against Eden's patience is like trying to shove a brick wall. You might tire yourself out, but you won't get anywhere.
The only course of action is to lie back and take what he gives you - but you're restless. You angle yourself differently, trying to make his thick fingers reach as deep as the head of his cock would. You pant, desperate for more friction no matter how hard Eden presses his thumb. You're a mess for him, and all he does is stare down at you, passive.
"Learn your lesson yet?" Eden asks, taking his fingers away as he moves to his belt. You nod eagerly, chest heaving with need. "I'm not sure if you have," he drawls, planting his hands in the dirt as he falls over you.
He's still slow and methodical, taking his time. But you're grateful for it now, as he sinks all the way into you. It makes the stretch last longer.
Eden's breath fans across your face as he bottoms out, and you curl yourself around him at last. Ankles hooked behind his back and hands rifling through his hair, still sweaty and clinging to the sharp scent of gunpowder.
"Feels so good," you hum, though he hasn't even started to move yet. Eden lets you bask for a second, before dragging himself almost all the way out and then slamming back in. Not too fast, but with power that makes your toes curl.
"What is it gonna take to get you to quit causing me trouble?" he asks, never breaking his rhythm. "Don't you know this is how it'll end? With your back in the dirt, right where you belong."
You laugh, the perfect picture of mischief as you look up at him and bat your eyelashes.
"Maybe I forget."
Eden tries to hide his smile in the crook of your neck. You press into him, rolling your hips to meet each languid thrust. Suddenly, Eden’s pace picks up.
"Then I'll just have to give you some way to remember," he says. Eden's lips smother yours, the kiss hot as he keeps fucking into you. For a split second, you think that's all he's talking about. Then he pulls away. "Think I might have to knock you up."
You clench. Eden looks down with a lopsided smile.
"I felt that."
Far too easily, Eden lifts you up off the forest floor.
The rough bark of the tree presses into your back as he props you against it. You scramble to grab onto him, wrapping your arms securely across his broad shoulders. Not that you need to; Eden wouldn't let go of his hold on you if you were trying to push him away. Never mind clinging to him. His hands keep you spread open; dig in to the meat of your thighs.
"You'd think twice about running away when you're stuffed with my kid," he grunts, voice straining. "Wouldn't be able to run if I made it so you can't walk."
"Eden-!"
His name comes out half-choked, tears staining your eyes as you clamp down again, close to milking him. Eden lifts one hand up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around as you shake like a leaf. The loss of support from one leg makes you flinch, quickly pressing it into his side, pulling him deeper.
"You forget what this feels like?" he asks, his grip growing tight.
Eden's hand on your neck makes you see stars. He kisses you, riding your orgasm with quick, short thrusts. His hips bruise as he presses in.
"Say you won't leave me." Eden grunts, gritting his teeth as he snaps into you.
"I won't," you promise, wobbly voice melting into his chest. "I need you, Eden."
"That true? Ask for it, then."
"Please," you whine, your nose pressed to his shoulder. He smells feral. Like he might just rip you apart, whether he means to or not. "Need you- Need you to-"
"Fuck."
And that's all the warning you get, before Eden is filling you up, forehead pressed to the tree as his neck strains and fingers twitch. You let out a small gasp of surprise as you feel the first spurt of warmth, coating your walls and then pooling to drown Eden's cock, buried inside you.
He stays still, breathing hard but controlled as he keeps your hips right where they are. Never letting go.
Your hands start to flit over his jacket, wanting nothing but to pull him in closer. But wary of breaking the spell. Finally, Eden leans back, slipping out of your heat with a sigh that you'd miss if you weren't pressed against him.
Without asking, he slings you up over his shoulder. It's time to go home. Eden carries you back the whole way, which is just as well. There's not a chance in the world you could stand right now.
Eden kicks open the door, and deposits you straight on the bed. Leaves and twigs dislodge from your hair, showering over the blankets. You gasp.
“You didn’t think I was done,” Eden taunts, his hands already spreading your legs again. One drifts up, lifting the hem of your blouse, and he palms your breast. “Not even close.”
You hum, raking your nails down his back.
☙
The next morning, you’re washing the dishes. Another new day, starting out just like all the others. Your sore muscles serve as the only faint trace of the night you had, spent beneath Eden until the moon rose and then set.
As you’re lost in your thoughts, you feel Eden’s hand, reaching around from behind you to press you back into his chest. His palm splays on your abdomen, holding possessively onto the place where he made sure to fill you up, over and over again.
He leans down, hovering over you in order to press his rugged cheek to your warm temple. You melt into him. Eden doesn’t remove his hand.
“Think you might try running away again?”
He asks casually, but the low rumble of his voice makes you swoon. Eden’s thumb brushes over you, tracing the spot where, just maybe, his hard work has paid off.
“Hmm. Not sure yet.”
You sway your hips, very deliberately bumping his, as you go back to scrubbing the dish. Chipped again, just like all of them are. They’ve been dropped in the sink one too many times. Sloppy, as Eden would say.
His beard tickles as he turns to plant a kiss, reaching under your blouse to grope you.
“Let me know,” he hums. “Once you decide.”
As he leaves, you look out at the sky. Pretty pastel blue, sun shining bright.
It’s a beautiful day for a hunt.