Not My Type, But My Love

Chapter Thirteen

The cabin was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire that burned brightly in the stone fireplace. The wooden beams of the ceiling seemed to stretch high above them, and the scent of pine lingered in the air, mixing with the warmth of the fire. Outside, the world was draped in darkness, the only light coming from the flickering stars and the soft glow of the cabin’s windows.

Anika stood by the window, looking out at the snow-covered trees in the distance. The peace of the place had calmed her nerves, but the tension between her and Atlas had only grown stronger since they arrived. The air felt thick, charged, like it was waiting for something to break, to shatter. The desire was there, unmistakable and raw, but it wasn’t just the physical need she felt. It was the emotional pull, the vulnerability she couldn’t ignore.

She turned when she heard his footsteps behind her, her heart racing at the sound of his approach. He had been quiet for a while now, but she could feel him watching her, waiting for her to make the first move. It was always like this with him—patient, deliberate, but so utterly in control.

“Anika,” he said softly, his voice low and smooth, as he came to stand beside her. His gaze moved over her, dark and intense. “You look beautiful.”

She swallowed hard, the words thick in her throat. She wasn’t sure how to respond to him anymore—this Atlas, the one who was tender and gentle when he needed to be, and commanding when he wanted to be. She couldn’t help but feel her chest tighten at the intensity of his attention. He had a way of making her feel like the only woman in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of them.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She shifted, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him close the distance between them, his presence overwhelming in the best way possible.

He reached out to touch her face, his thumb gently brushing over her cheek. The warmth of his skin against hers was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The way he touched her felt so familiar, but at the same time, it was new—unexplored, uncharted.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead before sliding down to capture her lips in a kiss that was slow, tender, but filled with an undeniable hunger. She melted against him, her body instinctively leaning into his touch as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer.

It was everything—everything she had been holding back, every feeling she had been too afraid to acknowledge. It was a release, a letting go of the walls she had built around herself.

Anika responded to him fully, her hands finding the edges of his jacket, pulling it off him as his lips trailed down her neck, making her gasp. Every touch, every kiss, every movement made her feel like she was on fire, yet somehow, she felt safe in his arms. Like nothing else in the world mattered except this moment.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against her skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. He stopped, his hands resting lightly on her waist, waiting for her to answer.

She could feel her heart pounding, but this time, it wasn’t fear—it was anticipation. She had never been more sure of anything in her life.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sure.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a quiet growl, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her toward the bed. The cabin was quiet, but the sound of their breathing, of their hearts beating in sync, filled the air as he gently laid her down on the soft linens.

He paused, looking down at her with a mixture of tenderness and something more. His eyes were dark, but there was a softness there—a depth to them that made her stomach flutter.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, as he slid off his shirt, revealing the chiseled lines of his body. She couldn’t help but admire the sight of him, his muscles rippling with each movement. He was beautiful, but it was more than that. There was a rawness in his gaze, an intensity that she couldn’t look away from.

Anika reached up, her fingers trailing over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her touch. She had never been more sure of the chemistry between them—how it had grown into something far more than she had expected.

He leaned down, kissing her with more urgency this time, his lips demanding but still tender. Anika’s hands explored his body, tracing the hard muscles of his chest, the strength in his arms. She was fascinated by how his body responded to her touch, how he seemed to lose himself in her just as much as she was losing herself in him.

Their clothes came off slowly, each piece of fabric a barrier being stripped away, until all that was left was skin, exposed and vulnerable. The moment was raw, intimate, and deeply emotional. Neither of them spoke as they moved together, their bodies fitting in a way that felt like they had been made for this.

Atlas was careful with her, always mindful of her responses, of the way her body reacted to his touch. Every kiss, every caress was filled with reverence, as though he was trying to savor the moment, to imprint it in his memory. It was a beautiful dance of give and take, of trust and desire.

When they finally came together, it was slow, almost painfully so, as if both of them were afraid to cross a line they couldn’t come back from. But it was also liberating, a release of all the tension that had been building between them. It was a moment that was both physical and emotional, a connection that went deeper than just their bodies. It was about trust, about letting go, and about being completely vulnerable with each other.

When it was over, they lay together, their bodies tangled in the sheets, the silence between them comfortable, yet charged. Anika rested her head on Atlas’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“That was…” she began, but her words faltered, not knowing how to describe what she had just experienced.

“Perfect,” Atlas finished for her, his fingers gently tracing the line of her back. “I feel the same way.”

She smiled softly, lifting her head to look at him. “This… it’s different with you.”

“It’s different with you too,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Anika looked into his eyes, and for the first time, she saw something there—something real. It wasn’t just about passion or attraction. It was something deeper, something that told her that maybe, just maybe, they were both starting to fall for each other in ways they hadn’t expected.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the warmth of the fire fading but their connection growing stronger. Eventually, Atlas kissed her forehead and whispered, “We should get some rest. We’re heading back tomorrow.”

Anika nodded, feeling a strange sense of contentment. She had never felt more at peace than she did in that moment, lying beside him in that cabin, knowing that whatever came next, they had crossed a threshold together.

The next morning, they left the cabin, the snow still falling gently outside, and returned to their own places. But the night they shared, the intimacy and connection, remained between them, unspoken but undeniable.

As they parted ways, Atlas gave her one last lingering kiss, a promise that this wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning.