His hands skimmed my waist, slow and deliberate, as he guided me down. 'You don't have to hold yourself up. Let the land take you,' he murmured.

Instead of hard earth, I landed on a bed of leaves, as thick and plush as a pile of cushions. Was I imagining things? The forest floor in this part of the woods had been rough and uneven and littered with stones—I was sure of it.

Yet there I was, sprawled on a carpet of fallen foliage as soft as a mattress, and nowhere near as squeaky. Maybe the dim light was playing tricks on me. Maybe everything felt dreamlike because I was half out of my mind with adrenaline and need.

Either way, I didn't fight it. My back pressed into the leaves as he lowered himself on top of me.