He started moving—slow, deep rolls of his hips, grinding against my clit with every thrust. The bed creaked softly under us—tiny, rhythmic squeaks that seemed deafening in the quiet cabin. I could hear Dad’s snores pause for a second, then resume. My heart pounded so hard I thought it would give us away.

Jake fucked me like that for long minutes—controlled, deliberate—hand still over my mouth, eyes locked on mine. Every drag of his cock against my walls sent sparks up my spine. His pubic bone ground against my clit on every downstroke, building pressure slow and relentless.

“You feel that?” he whispered, lips brushing my ear. “Feel how deep...