Work Text:
Bubbles, Banter, and Snow
Anya Forger, now nineteen and a second-year university student, exhaled a deep sigh as she lowered herself into the steaming hot tub, her skin prickling with warmth. The bubbling water rippled gently around her, the soft hum of the jets soothing her sore, overworked muscles. After the chaos of the day, the heat felt like a blanket of relief wrapping her body in comfort.
Surprisingly unrestrained, Anya reclined in the spacious tub, her long limbs draped casually in the water. She wore a revealing red bikini, a choice that would have once made her blush furiously. Yet, in her haste to pack, she had accidentally grabbed it, not realizing how bold it was until she was already at the resort. Her pink hair, now tied into two playful buns atop her head, gave her an air of carefree youth that contrasted with the luxury of the setting.
The room itself was a sanctuary of relaxation, with soft, plush towels folded neatly on marble counters and a faint scent of eucalyptus hanging in the air. The sleek tiles gleamed under the soft glow of spa lights, and the sound of trickling water from a nearby fountain added to the sense of calm. Anya leaned her head back, eyes closed, soaking in the moment.
It had been Becky’s idea to attend the Imperial Scholars Alumni Winter Event—a weekend retreat at a secluded ski resort. What Anya had expected to be a boring series of stuffy social gatherings had instead turned into a weekend of skiing, laughter, and catching up with old classmates from Eden Academy. Now, in the peaceful quiet of the spa, Anya finally had time to reflect, her thoughts drifting with the steam rising into the air.
She let out another sigh, sinking deeper into the water, regretting her decision to challenge them to races down the slopes. Perhaps that had been a bit too ambitious.
Since leaving Eden Academy, Anya had enrolled at Trinique College in McNally, where she was pursuing a degree in languages. It was far from most of her classmates who had opted to stay closer to home in Ostania. Trinique was prestigious, but Anya had come to realize that nothing would ever quite compare to the unique class structure of Eden Academy.
Still, it had been a relief to take a break from all of that. When Becky had insisted on attending this event, Anya hadn’t been particularly excited, but now, as an adult, the pressures of Operation Strix and her intense academic life were behind her. She could simply choose not to attend the post-ski social gathering going on right now. Instead, she had this hot tub all to herself.
As she tried to relax, something felt off. Her body was tense, not just from the physical exhaustion of the day. It was something deeper. She longed for comfort, to be touched and held, to feel a closeness she hadn’t allowed herself to think about in a while. Maybe it was just that time in her cycle, but her chest felt heavy and sensitive, adding to the quiet frustration that simmered beneath her calm exterior.
Just as Anya began to get comfortable, her thoughts drifted to the kind of men she could imagine herself being with. Absent-mindedly adjusting her bikini top, she sat upright, letting her arms rest at her sides. The quiet, soothing atmosphere of the hot tub enveloped her.
At that moment, the door creaked open.
Damian Desmond stepped in, still covered in snow from the slopes, clearly exhausted and still in his ski gear. He froze when he saw her, his face immediately turning bright red.
"Oh my god—sorry! I thought no one would be in here!" he stammered, quickly turning away.
Anya giggled. "Sy-on boy, you do know this is the women’s bath, right?"
Damian glanced up at the sign, panic flashing across his face. "Oh, shit! I didn’t realize!"
Anya’s eyes followed him as he stood there, awkward and embarrassed. Despite his bulky ski clothes, she couldn’t help but notice how much he had grown. He was taller now, more filled out—his presence hard to miss. Her gaze shifted to the window, where the snowstorm outside raged, making it clear how brutal the weather had become.
“I’ll just... head to the men’s bath. Sorry,” Damian muttered, already moving toward the door.
“Wait—did you bring a swimsuit?” Anya asked, half-teasing, but genuinely curious. She knew that the men’s facilities were all the way on the other side of the resort, probably a good 15 or 20 minute walk, easy.
Damian hesitated, still avoiding looking directly at her. “Uh, yeah... I did.”
She grinned, her voice playful. “It’s a mess out there. Just get in. I won’t tell anyone about you being a peeping Tom.” Her giggle echoed through the steamy room.
His face flushed even redder. “You know I’m not—”
A strong gust of wind howled from outside, rattling the windows.
Damian sighed in defeat. “Fine, but only because it’s freezing out there. Ewen kept challenging me all day, and my back is killing me.”
He began to change into his swimsuit, and Anya respectfully turned away, her cheeks warming slightly.
As she stared into the bubbling water, she reflected on Damian. They’d exchanged a polite hello on the first day of the trip but hadn’t spoken much since. She knew he attended Chambridge in Southwestern Ostania, one of the top universities in the country—though not Uxford, where both Donovan and Demetrius had gone, much to her surprise. From what little interaction they’d had, he seemed to have mellowed out since their school days. The weight of being the second Desmond son appeared to no longer hang over him like it once had.
Damian slipped into the hot tub, the warmth of the water instantly relaxing his tense muscles. But despite the soothing heat, the air between him and Anya felt awkward—neither of them quite sure how to act now that they were sharing this intimate space.
Anya fidgeted with the bubbles, the silence stretching just a little too long before she gathered the courage to break it. “So, why aren’t you at the après-ski thing?” she asked, her voice casual.
Damian shrugged, his eyes avoiding hers. “Didn’t feel like it. I can’t be bothered with all the formality of those things. Too much small talk.”
Anya nodded. “Yeah, same here. Plus, I think I overdid it today.”
They exchanged a small smile, a moment of shared understanding passing between them. “It’s crazy we didn’t run into each other at all on the slopes,” Anya added. “I was racing Bill and George most of the day.”
“Yeah,” Damian agreed, relaxing slightly. “I was with Emile and Ewen, but we were mostly up in the harder runs. It’s insane we didn’t see each other.”
Anya noticed Damian’s expression shift, and his shoulders tensed even more. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just… my shoulders are killing me,” Damian admitted, rolling them uncomfortably.
Without thinking much of it, Anya swam over to him, her playful grin returning. “Want me to massage them? You look like you need it.”
Damian froze, a mixture of panic and nerves flashing across his face. “Uh… I—”
“C’mon, turn around,” Anya insisted with a teasing tone, her hands already gently resting on his shoulders.
Reluctantly, Damian turned his back to her, his muscles tense as if he wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or grateful. Anya’s fingers pressed into the tight muscles of his shoulders, and almost immediately, he let out a low moan of relief. His reaction startled her for a second, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she found herself smirking a little.
“Wow, you’ve really grown up,” Anya observed, her fingers sinking deeper into the tight knots in his back. She let her thumbs knead into the muscle just below his shoulder blades, applying a steady, comforting pressure. “What happened to little Sy-on boy?” she teased, her voice light but soft as her hands worked over his tense muscles.
Damian, who was piping hot red now, tensed even more beneath her touch, the teasing words hitting a nerve.
“Oh no, don’t be like that, I’m just teasing you…” Anya admitted, her tone softer, realizing she might have overstepped. Her hands slowed, her palms gliding in soothing strokes over his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. She was supposed to be helping him relax, not winding him up further.
“You’ve grown up too, you know… you look… good,” Damian muttered, his voice low and uncertain as his muscles finally began to unwind beneath her touch.
Anya’s fingers paused for just a second as a pink flush crept up her cheeks. She hadn’t expected that. “You really think so?”
“Yeah…” Damian’s voice was quieter now, but there was a sincerity to it. His body, once so rigid, melted further under her careful hands as she moved to his shoulder blades, pressing firmly into the tight knots there. “You’ve always looked good, Forger,” he added, his voice barely more than a breath as she worked her way down his back, the tension slowly releasing from his traps and upper shoulders.
The flustered feeling in Anya’s chest deepened, her hands hesitating for a moment as she absorbed his words.
"Do you ride a bike around Chambridge?" Anya asked, steering the conversation in a new direction. She knew Chambridge was a picturesque town with canals, where bicycles were the main mode of transportation.
“Yeah, actually,” Damian replied, his voice a bit tense, but more relaxed now. “Everyone does there.”
“I can imagine,” she said, grinning.
He leaned into her hands as she worked out a particularly tight spot on his shoulders. “Do you ride around Trinique?”
“Of course,” Anya replied, pressing her fingers deeper into the muscles. “But I’m not lugging around nearly as many heavy books as you are. That’s why your shoulders are so tight, especially right here.”
As she applied pressure to a knot, Damian let out a low groan, his body visibly easing. Anya felt a surge of satisfaction at his reaction, a strange sense of connection settling between them.
“If you don’t mind me asking… are you still with…?” Damian trailed off, purposefully avoiding the name.
“No, that ended a few months ago,” Anya said softly. “How about you and…?”
“That didn’t work out either,” Damian replied, his tone lighter, almost as if he might be smiling.
“Guess we’re both hard to be with,” Anya mused, increasing the pressure a little. She could feel Damian holding back a sound of relief, the deep vibrations from his chest resonating through her fingers, which sent a flutter through her.
“Seems like it,” Damian murmured. “How are you finding McNally? You’ve been there a while now, right?”
“Almost two years,” Anya nodded. “It took some getting used to, being all the way up there on my own.” McNally was an island nation in the far northwest of the continent. “But I love how international it is. When I get out of the city, the whole country is this incredible green.”
“Does it ever stop raining there?” Damian asked, his tone still curious.
Anya chuckled. “It does, but you’ve got to get used to the grey skies. It makes the sunny days feel even more special. You get a lot of rain in Chambridge too, right?”
“Yeah, but McNally sounds like it’s on another level. How do you like it, living on an island?”
“It’s different,” Anya admitted. “Isolating at first, but the people are warm. And Dublith, the capital, is amazing. The nightlife, the museums... there's a lot of culture packed into such a small place.”
Damian nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “And Trinique College? How is that compared to Eden?”
Anya raised an eyebrow, noticing his increasing curiosity. “It’s more relaxed, definitely less competitive than Eden. People are focused on what they really want to do. But why all the questions?”
Damian shrugged, trying to act casual. “Just curious.”
Anya gave him a knowing look but decided to shift the conversation. “Your turn,” she said, pulling her hands away from his shoulders and turning around. “Want to rub my back now?”
Damian tensed. “Uh, sure. I mean, if you want…”
Anya smiled, sensing his nervousness as she turned her back to him. “I’ve been doing all the work so far. Time for you to pitch in.”
Damian swallowed audibly, his hands hovering for a moment before gently resting on her back. “Like this?”
“Yeah, but a bit more pressure,” Anya encouraged, leaning into his touch slightly. His hands were warm against her skin, and as he tentatively began to rub, she let out a soft sigh. “That’s better. You’ve got good hands.”
Damian’s breath hitched at the compliment, and his fingers faltered slightly before resuming with more confidence. “Thanks... I guess.”
Anya let her eyes close, enjoying the sensation as the tension in her back started to melt away under his touch. “Mmm… right there,” she murmured, her voice slipping into a relaxed tone. “That feels amazing.”
Damian's cheeks burned at the sound of her voice, and he could feel his pulse quicken. His hands slowed for a moment as he tried to keep his focus. “Glad... glad you like it,” he said, his voice wavering slightly.
Anya shifted a bit, allowing him to access another spot, and her contented sigh made Damian’s hands tremble again. She wasn’t just relaxed—she was thoroughly enjoying it, and that awareness sent a flush of heat through him. “You’re really good at this,” she said, her voice soft.
Damian’s heart pounded in his chest. “I... I didn’t think I would be,” he admitted, trying to keep his hands steady, though the feel of her soft skin and the sound of her sighs were making it harder than he’d expected.
Anya smiled, sensing Damian’s flustered state. “You’re doing fine,” she teased gently, letting her head fall forward as she surrendered completely to the sensation. “Better than fine, actually…”
Damian swallowed hard, trying not to get too distracted by the closeness between them. Her voice was softer now, almost a purr, and the way her body relaxed completely under his touch was making it impossible for him to focus. His own body reacted in ways he didn’t expect, a heat rising within him as he struggled to stay composed. “I’ll… umm… thanks,” he muttered.
“You’re welcome,” Anya replied, her eyes closing as she gave in to the relaxation. She adjusted her position against the edge of the hot tub, her arms resting over the side, leaving her body exposed in a way that only heightened the intimacy.
The silence stretched between them, and Damian could barely think straight, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle, hands still on her shoulders. “Anya? Did you fall asleep?”
“No, no, I’m awake,” Anya admitted, slowly opening her eyes and shaking off the deep relaxation she had slipped into. She turned around to face him, her gaze soft yet intent, and with unrestrained warmth, she smiled. “That was really good. I just kind of relaxed and let go… thank you.” Her voice was syrupy sweet, dripping with sincerity.
The effect on Damian was immediate. His heart raced, his body tensed. This was not the Anya Forger from Eden Academy—it was a woman, fully grown, breathtakingly beautiful, and undeniably seductive. The soft lighting of the hot tub reflected off her skin, and her cleavage, glistening from the water, was all too visible. He could barely breathe, let alone speak.
“I… I…” Damian stammered, the rush of emotion overwhelming him. “G-God, you l-look…” His face flushed deep red, words failing him.
Anya’s smile faltered, replaced with concern. “Damian?” she asked, genuinely worried. She reached out, placing a hand on his forehead, wondering if the heat of the hot tub had affected him. Unable to resist any longer, she decided to peek into his mind, something she hadn’t done in years except for moments like this.
The intensity of his thoughts hit her all at once. His admiration, the sheer magnitude of his feelings—it was far beyond what she had ever seen before. His crush, which had lingered for years, now burned with an overwhelming intensity. The depth of his desire, how captivated he was by her, left her stunned. She blushed, the realization sending a ripple of warmth through her, awakening something deep inside. The longing she had buried earlier resurfaced, and without thinking, she acted.
Before Damian could react, Anya wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, her eyes closing as she whispered, “Damian…” Her voice was sultry, dripping with desire, and before he could respond, she kissed him.
For a moment, Damian froze, his mind spinning. This had all happened so fast, and for a brief second, he wasn’t sure if any of it was real. But the feeling of Anya’s fingers threading through his hair, her other hand gripping his shoulder, and the warmth of her body pressed against his told him otherwise. Slowly, he closed his eyes and kissed her back, deeply, pouring all his pent-up emotion into the kiss.
Anya moaned softly against his lips as Damian began to trail kisses down her neck. She had fully given in, her entire body responding to the sensations she had craved for so long. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, pressing against him.
Damian groaned, his need for her growing with every subtle movement of her hips against his. The water swirled around them, but it did nothing to cool the heat building between them. With no hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her effortlessly out of the water. Their bodies stayed entwined as he carried her to a nearby lounge chair, sitting them down, his lips never leaving her skin.
Anya’s breath quickened as Damian’s kisses moved lower, down from her neck to the tantalizing swell of her cleavage. His lips were soft but insistent, and every touch sent shivers of pleasure through her.
“God… this bikini…” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he kissed along the curve of her breasts. The way her skin felt against his lips was intoxicating, and he savored every moment.
Anya moaned again, arching into him. Her body was on fire, aching for more. Without a second thought, she reached behind her neck, untying the knot of her bikini top, letting it loosen and fall away. Her chest heaved as she pressed her bare breasts against his face, her voice husky with need. “Touch me… squeeze them, lick them… I need it.”
Damian let out a low moan at her words, his hands immediately finding their way to her breasts as her top slipped to the floor. “Like this?” he whispered, his voice sultry as he squeezed and kneaded her soft skin, his touch firm yet gentle.
Anya gasped, her back arching as his hands caressed her. “Yes…” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair as he hovered over her, his breath hot against her skin.
“Anya…” Damian whispered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so sexy…”
He leaned in, kissing her nipple gently, earning another moan from her. The sound was intoxicating, and he couldn’t resist. He began to suck, alternating between kisses and licks, his other hand kneading her other breast, driving her wild.
Anya writhed beneath him, her nails digging into his back as her body melted into his touch. “Yes… yes…” she pleaded, her voice breathy, completely lost in the sensations. The way he teased her, alternating between her nipples, licking and sucking, made her head spin with pleasure.
Damian’s heart raced as he felt her responding to every touch, every kiss. Her moans were music to his ears, and they only emboldened him. His hands began to travel lower, savoring every inch of her soft skin as his fingers trailed down her hips, reaching the waistband of her bikini bottoms. He tugged gently, pulling them down.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice rough with desire as he looked up from her chest, his eyes locking with hers.
Anya’s hair had fallen loose from the buns she had earlier, spilling over her shoulders. Her face was flushed, her lips parted, but her eyes… they held his, burning with the same intensity. “Yes,” she whispered, the word full of heat, her consent clear and firm.
Damian slowly pulled the bottoms down, his fingers grazing her skin as she lifted her hips to help him, letting the wet fabric fall away. Freed from the constraints of her bikini, she lay back, her chest rising and falling quickly, her entire body offered up to him.
He dove back to her breasts, kissing her feverishly, his hands exploring her with more confidence now, savoring every soft moan, every shiver that ran through her. Anya’s hips began to move again, pressing up against him, her body responding to his every touch, her desire as clear as his.
Instinctively, Damian’s hand slid lower, exploring her body with growing confidence. His fingers found their way to where they both ached for him to touch, her soft, wet folds parting beneath his fingertips.
“God… Anya,” he groaned, his mouth returning to her nipple, sucking harder this time as the heat between them intensified.
Anya’s moans grew louder, more desperate, her body trembling with each touch. The sounds she made were a mix of pleasure and need, incoherent but filled with desire.
“Are you this wet… for me?” Damian murmured against her skin, his voice thick with lust. His fingers now glistened with her arousal as he teased the tip of his index finger over the entrance to her folds, his eyes lifting to meet hers.
“Y-yes…” she managed to say, her voice breathy, her gaze locking with his. A wave of shyness washed over her, but the intensity of the moment kept her grounded in the sensation.
Damian bit his lip, his heart racing as he found what he was looking for. Her clit was swollen and sensitive, and he began to stroke it gently, his fingertip moving in small, teasing motions that made her body quake beneath him.
Anya’s head fell back as she writhed in pleasure, her moans growing louder. Her hips moved in rhythm with his touch, the pleasure building with every flick of his fingers.
Without any warning Damian moved to the end of the chair pulling Anya’s legs over his shoulders and pulling her body closer to him. She immediately sat up as she looked at him feeling very self conscious.
“D-Damian…” she managed to let out, the sight of him looking so driven, so lustful between her legs “y-you don’t have to, I’m…”
“No, no, you lie back down…” he encouraged as he patted her midsection “let me do this”
“B-but…” Anya stammered, flustered and suddenly self-conscious. She hadn’t meant for things to go this far, and now Damian Desmond was literally between her legs.
Sensing her hesitation but remaining unfazed, Damian’s voice dropped to a soft murmur. “Just relax… I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” His eyes locked onto hers, filled with an intensity that made her breath catch. “To you.”
Anya was stunned. Her body flushed as heat spread across her cheeks, and she instinctively threw her hands over her face, trying to hide. It wasn’t that she was inexperienced—she’d been here before—but this was different.
Her thoughts evaporated in an instant when she felt it—a soft, tender kiss right on her clit.
“Oh my… fuck” she exhaled, the words slipping out of her in a daze. Even though she knew what was coming, it still took her by surprise, hitting her with full force.
Damian kissed her gently, savoring the delicate smoothness of her skin before letting the tip of his tongue slowly tease her sensitive nub. Anya’s legs loosened, and her body writhed with a shuddering moan.
Then he gave in to his growing desire, fully tasting her with greedy, deliberate movements. His hands found her hips, holding her steady as he lavished her with loving licks and kisses.
“Anya…” he murmured between his attention, his voice low and syrupy. “You taste incredible.” He leaned in closer, the featherlight flicks of his tongue sending electric waves through her body.
“Oh—f—, f—, f—,” Anya gasped, the tension inside her winding tighter. “I’m going to… I’m going to—”
Damian’s grip on her tightened as he moaned against her, his lips closing over her clit with a deep, hungry suck. The pressure surged inside her, and her body trembled uncontrollably as her release hit, wave after wave crashing through her. Her vision blurred as she moaned loudly, almost beyond control, finally pushing him off as she collapsed back, breathless and nearly hyperventilating.
Damian couldn’t help but grin as he settled next to her, lying on his side as she fought to catch her breath.
“I’m sorry, that was just… so…” she stammered, a hand pressed against her chest, trying to steady her racing heart.
Damian bit his lip, a forced but familiar smile playing at his lips, reminiscent of their school days. “No, no, please don’t be sorry. I’m, uh…” He chuckled softly, his boyish charm still there. “I’m just glad you enjoyed it.”
Their eyes met, and suddenly they were both laughing.
“Yeah, I bet you’re happy with yourself,” Anya teased, her cheeks flushing as she reached out to pull him closer.
“Well, I mean…” He wrapped his arms around her, still chuckling. “Yeah, kind of.”
Anya gazed at him, watching the way his face lit up with joy. “You know, you’re so cute when you’re like this,” she said, a playful smile on her lips.
Damian blushed, leaning in to kiss her again. How they could shift from such raw, animalistic passion back into the playful teasing of their youth was a mystery neither of them could explain, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.
Their kiss was slow and tender at first, a gentle exchange that deepened as the moment stretched between them. Anya’s hands began to roam, tracing the lines of Damian’s chest and arms, feeling the solid muscle beneath his skin.
“I wasn’t kidding earlier, you know…” Anya murmured as their lips parted, her fingers trailing lightly up and down his chest. “You’ve really grown up… quite nicely, I might add.” She gave his bicep a playful squeeze, feeling a rush of girlish excitement as she did so.
Damian’s blush deepened, his heart racing as the reality of the moment hit him. This stunning, completely naked woman was not only with him but was admiring him in a way that made his insides flutter. He couldn’t find the words to respond, overwhelmed by the combination of her touch and the intensity of her gaze.
“Hmmm…” Anya’s eyes gleamed with mischief as her fingers continued their slow exploration. “You know… I’m not one to leave debts unpaid,” she teased, her voice soft but suggestive, her eyes locking with his.
Damian, already flustered, shook his head. “Y-you don’t owe me anything…”
Anya smirked, her fingertips now tracing the line of his jaw. “Well, maybe I want more… don’t you?” Her voice was low, breathy, dripping with seduction.
Damian groaned softly, his body betraying his words as his erection throbbed, harder than ever. “O-of course I do…”
Taking full advantage of Damian’s shyness, Anya grinned triumphantly, gently pushing him back into the lounge chair. She climbed on top of him with graceful confidence, her movements deliberate as she settled herself over him. “Well, let’s do this then,” she said, her voice teasing but full of promise. Her hands slid down his sides, and she tugged at the waistband of his trunks, mirroring his earlier actions. “But I think these need to go…”
Damian’s breath hitched as Anya’s hands moved lower, anticipation and desire flooding his senses. He was entirely at her mercy now, and the mixture of her playful dominance and the raw, undeniable connection between them only made him want her more.
With slow, deliberate movements, she began pulling down his trunks, and he lifted his hips slightly to help her. When his erection sprang free, her eyes took him in, full of admiration and desire.
“Wow, Damian…” she murmured, her words making his cheeks burn with a mix of pride and shyness. But he didn’t have long to dwell on it as Anya wrapped her fingers around him, the touch gentle yet firm.
Damian’s hips jerked involuntarily, and a low, needy moan escaped his lips. “Mmph—” The sensation of her touching him sent an immediate wave of pleasure through him, making him throb even harder in her hand.
“You’re so…” she whispered, her eyes locked on his, a teasing glint dancing in them as her hand began to pump him slowly. “Big… no wonder you’re so… cocky,” she teased, the hint of a giggle slipping through, her mischief as familiar as it was endearing.
Damian groaned, his head spinning from the combination of her praise and her teasing. Out of anyone, it was Anya—only Anya—who could make him feel this way. She always saw him for who he truly was, and that’s what made her so special to him. That’s why he had always loved her.
Anya bit her lip as she watched Damian’s reaction, her gaze flicking between his flushed, handsome face and his pulsating length in her hand. There was something deeper here, something that went beyond lust. The connection between them was palpable, tangible, and it stirred emotions inside her that went beyond mere desire.
Acting purely on emotion, Anya positioned herself over Damian, and as if reading her mind, he placed his hands on her hips, guiding her as she rested her hands on his shoulders for balance. Their eyes remained locked, and there was a silent understanding, a mutual vulnerability they shared in this moment.
Slowly, Anya spread her legs and began to lower herself onto him, Damian bracing himself as he felt her warmth envelop him. His grip on her hips tightened slightly as he penetrated her inch by inch, their gazes never wavering.
They both gasped when he was fully inside her, the sensation overwhelming, their bodies trembling from the intensity of it. Their faces were flushed, hearts racing in unison. Anya rolled her hips slightly, adjusting to the feeling as she clung to his shoulders for support.
Damian, breathing heavily, began to move slowly, thrusting in and out of her with deliberate, measured movements. Anya matched his rhythm, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. And then, unable to resist the pull between them, they kissed—hard, passionate, and desperate, as if trying to convey every emotion they had for each other in that one kiss.
As they furiously made love, their moans filled the air, but it was more than just physical. The emotional connection between them was undeniable, stronger than anything either of them had ever experienced before. Every movement, every touch, was laced with the weight of years of unspoken love and longing.
Their bodies trembled as they lost themselves in each other, completely consumed by the moment, by the love they felt so deeply. It was as though the world around them had melted away, leaving only the two of them, bound together in a way they never had been with anyone else.
“Oh, Damian…” Anya gasped, her breath hitching as she continued to ride him, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly. The tension inside her was reaching its peak, her body teetering on the edge.
“God, Anya, I’m so close,” Damian groaned, barely able to keep up. He was still in disbelief that the woman he had longed for was now on top of him, driving him wild as he felt himself deeply inside her.
“Yes, yes, I am too…you feel so good, s-so hard for me,” Anya breathed out, her nails digging into his skin as she crashed her lips against his in a desperate, rough kiss.
Damian returned the kiss eagerly, though their breaths were ragged, the intensity of their moans making it hard to focus. “You’re the only one who gets me this hard…,” he panted. “Oh, Anya… I’m going to—”
His words were cut off as Anya’s climax hit, her moan rising in pitch, louder than anything before. Her body convulsed, her inner muscles clenching tightly around him, triggering his own release. He groaned deeply as he came, spilling inside her with wave after wave of intense pleasure.
They both remained still for a moment, breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other, lost in the shared moment of afterglow.
“Damian…” Anya’s voice was soft, almost lost in the gentle snowfall, but it carried just enough warmth to catch his attention.
He turned to her, his eyes filled with the same tenderness he’d had back in first grade when they danced together for the first time. “Yes, Anya?” His smile made her heart flutter, familiar but deepened with something far more intense.
“My room is right next door, you know…” She tilted her head with a little smirk, her breath forming misty clouds in the cold air. “You should stay with me tonight. I mean… it’s still snowing pretty heavily.”
Damian’s grin spread slowly across his face as he caught her playful tone. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to risk trudging all the way across the resort in this weather.” He stood up, taking her hand with a gentle squeeze. “Plus, I’d rather be with you.”
Anya knocked her knuckles lightly against the lounge chair, still amused. “These chairs are sturdier than they look,” she joked, glancing at him with a sly smile.
Damian laughed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, especially considering they survived the weight of two adults… catching up.”
Anya smirked, slipping back into her clothes. “Catching up, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
He chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled on his jacket. Together, they started walking toward her room. The snow fell softly, blanketing everything in white, while the warm glow of the resort’s lights reflected off the powder, creating a serene, dreamlike atmosphere around them.
“So… you remember earlier when I asked you about McNally and Trinique?” Damian’s voice broke the comfortable silence between them, his hand still holding hers as they walked.
Anya glanced up, noticing how the falling snow seemed to make him look even more handsome, his hat pulled low and his eyes bright. “Yeah, why were you so curious?”
Damian smiled, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Well, I’m going to be spending a year abroad there, starting next autumn. Turns out they have some of the best historical archives in the world. Perfect for what I want to study.”
Anya stopped for a moment, eyes widening in surprise. “Wait, really?”
“Yep,” Damian said, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “And… there’s this girl I’ve liked for a long time who goes there too. I was hoping she might’ve ditched her lame boyfriend by then, so I could have a shot.”
Anya felt warmth bloom in her chest, her cheeks flushing despite the cold. “Well, lucky for you…”
“And,” Damian continued, his voice dropping into something softer and more sincere, “I was thinking about visiting during the breaks next semester, you know, to get a feel for the place. Do you think you’d want to see me?”
Anya’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze. There was something in his eyes—hopeful, genuine, and full of something unsaid. “Yes… but our schedules don’t match up at all. I’ll still have classes, and you’ll be on your breaks.”
They finally reached her door, and as Anya fiddled with the key, she looked back at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But maybe I could come visit Ostania during my breaks. You know, spend a little time in Chambridge. I think I could even convince this guy I’m into to get me first-class flights,” she added with a wink, her lips curving into a playful smile.
Damian burst out laughing, the sound filling the quiet night. “Oh, you think you could convince him, huh?” He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against him.
“Yeah, I’m pretty persuasive,” she teased, her voice soft as she looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat.
Damian smiled down at her, the warmth in his gaze melting away the cold around them. Without another word, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly deepened. His hands held her close, as if he never wanted to let her go, and when they finally pulled away, the world felt even quieter, as if it was just the two of them standing together in the snow.
*Bonus Epilogue*
The next morning, Ewen and Emile were on edge as they wandered through the resort, searching for any sign of Damian. Fresh snow crunched under their boots, but it did little to ease the gnawing worry building between them.
“I’m starting to freak out, man,” Ewen muttered, glancing around. “We haven’t seen him since last night.”
“No shit,” Emile agreed, checking his phone for the hundredth time. “You don’t think he’s still out there, do you? We left him on the slopes.”
“He said he wanted to stay and practice,” Ewen said, his voice tight. “But you know they close the lifts at night. We’re not supposed to ski after dark. It’s dangerous as hell—he could’ve wiped out and nobody would’ve found him.”
Emile’s face paled. “Fuck, what if something happened? What if we screwed up leaving him out there?”
A tense silence settled between them until Ewen spotted someone familiar slouched at a nearby coffee shop table. “Hey, look, there’s Becky. Maybe she knows where he is.”
They hurried over to where Becky sat, looking far worse for wear. She had sunglasses on and was nursing what had to be the largest coffee in the entire resort. Even through her layers of expensive ski gear, she looked rough.
“Becks, have you seen Damian?” Ewen asked as they approached.
Becky raised her head slowly, grimacing as she lifted her sunglasses slightly to glance at them. “Are you two seriously still searching for Lord Damian? We’re 19, not 9. I thought you guys had outgrown that whole… follower thing.”
Ewen and Emile ignored the jab. “We haven’t seen him since last night,” Ewen repeated, his tone more urgent.
“Yeah, and we’re worried. He stayed on the slopes after us,” Emile added.
Becky raised an eyebrow and then smirked. “Wait, hold on—you left him on the slopes? After dark? Are you fucking serious?”
“He wanted to practice more!” Emile protested.
Becky let out a short laugh before wincing. “Well, aren’t you two a pair of geniuses. You know skiing after dark is a death wish, right? No lights, no patrols. I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent the night with a snowbank.”
“Exactly! We’re trying to find him,” Ewen groaned. “What if something happened?”
Becky rubbed her temple, shaking her head. “Well, I haven’t seen him.”
“Where’s Anya? Maybe she’d know,” Ewen asked, grasping at straws now. It was worth a shot—those two always had this magnetic pull toward each other.
“I’ve got no clue,” Becky replied, flicking her hand lazily as if the effort of speaking was too much. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday afternoon. She was all about having a chill night in, didn’t even bother with the après-ski.”
Ewen and Emile exchanged a knowing look.
“Wait… so neither of them were at the après-ski?” Ewen asked, the pieces of the puzzle starting to click together in his head.
“Nope,” Emile confirmed, his brows furrowing. “I didn’t see them. Becky, who did you even talk to last night?”
Becky groaned and waved them off like they were asking about a hangover she was desperately trying to forget. “Please, can we not talk about the après-ski? We don’t speak of what happened at the après-ski.” Her face tightened, the universal sign of ‘I drank way too much and now regret everything.’
Ewen, undeterred, leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Wait… doesn’t Anya have a boyfriend?”
Becky snorted so hard her sunglasses nearly fell off. “Pffft, that’s over. Donezo. What, did you not get the memo?” She took a long, dramatic swig of her coffee like she was washing away the memory of Anya’s failed relationship. “Besides, Damian’s still with what’s-her-face, right?”
Emile shook his head. “Nope. He’s single.”
Ewen’s eyes widened, the gears visibly turning in his head. “Oh my God… do you think…?”
Becky raised an eyebrow. “Do I think what?”
“That they’re finally…” Ewen’s voice trailed off as if the very concept was so monumental it couldn’t be uttered out loud.
Becky let out a disbelieving laugh, throwing her head back for emphasis. “What? You think Damian and Anya finally—after all these fucking years—hooked up? She lives in another country now. There’s no way…”
All three of them stood there, stunned, skeptical yet undeniably intrigued. Everyone knew the history, the endless back-and-forth, the constant dance around each other. Could it really have happened?
“I mean, that’s a lot of sexual tension,” Emile muttered, wincing like the thought itself hurt to process.
“Yeah, like a volcano that’s been dormant for centuries,” Becky added with a snort, her coffee cup rising in salute. “Kaboom.”
The three of them chuckled unable not to.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Ewen said, rubbing his hands together with the excitement of a man on a mission. “We gotta check Anya’s room.”
Without further delay, the trio hurried to Anya’s suite, hearts pounding in unison. As they reached the door, Ewen held up a hand, motioning for silence. “Wait… do you hear that?”
They pressed their ears against the door, listening closely.
Inside, voices could be heard, just loud enough to make out.
“Here, try this… you have to taste it like this,” one voice said, soft but full of suggestion.
“Seriously? You want me to eat it off there?” the other voice responded, a teasing tone lacing every word.
“Yeah, trust me… it’s part of the experience. Right there.”
There was a moment of silence, then a loud, drawn-out groan. “Oh, fuck me, baby, that’s so good… so fucking good.”
The three outside the door froze, eyes wide with horror.
“Let me have some now,” came the other voice, punctuated by a loud thud, as if someone hit a surface. “Yeah… fucking amazing, right?”
“Goddamn…” Becky whispered, eyes widening in disbelief.
Then came the kicker: “You know what we should try next?”
The trio immediately panicked, stumbling away from the door and hitting their heads together in the process, yelping loudly.
The door swung open, revealing a fully dressed Anya, looking equal parts amused and confused, with Damian standing behind her, his expression sheepish.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” Anya asked, crossing her arms as she looked between them.
Emile was still rubbing his head from the collision. “No… seriously, what the hell is going on in there?”
Anya raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Damian with an unreadable expression before turning to face the trio again. “We ordered room service. McNally-style breakfast. I convinced Damian to make a sandwich with bacon, eggs, and toast.”
“Yeah, it tastes amazing, but this is so messy,” Damian added with a sheepish grin, holding up a half-eaten, greasy sandwich. A glob of egg was dangling precariously from his chin.
The three stared at them, mouths slightly open, their brains struggling to reconcile the casual breakfast scene with what they’d imagined. It was as if someone had just yanked them out of an entirely different reality.
Becky was the first to break the stunned silence, blinking rapidly. “Oh… right…” she muttered, her face now a brilliant shade of pink. “We thought…”
Before she could finish, Anya moved closer to Damian, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Oh, let me help you,” she said softly, wiping the dripping egg from his chin with a napkin. Her fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary. “Such a big baby,” she teased, her voice almost too gentle.
Damian’s grin widened, and for a moment, it was like no one else existed. “Aw, thanks,” he murmured, his voice low, eyes locked on hers with a warmth that radiated throughout the room. “You’re so sweet.” His gaze softened, lingering on Anya’s face as if she were the only thing that mattered.
The air felt charged, thick with unspoken words, the undeniable closeness between them impossible to ignore. There was an intimacy now that hadn’t been there before—something that felt like it had been years in the making but was now on full display.
Becky’s eyes darted between them, her mouth hanging open as she tried to process the shift in dynamic. She shot a look at Emile and Ewen, who both looked equally gobsmacked.
“Damian… why are you here?” Becky finally asked, her voice sharper, her disbelief edging into something more probing. “In Anya’s room? You two just decided to have breakfast together—alone?”
Ewen’s eyes widened in realization, his finger suddenly pointing as if he had uncovered a scandal. “Wait—yeah, Bossman, aren’t those the same ski pants you wore yesterday? They’ve still got the same dirt stains from when you fell!”
The room fell into an awkward silence as both Anya and Damian flushed red, their faces betraying more than either of them was willing to admit. They looked undeniably sheepish, like two kids caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.
Damian opened his mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out.
Anya, eyes wide and a little too bright, clapped her hands together loudly, breaking the tension. “So! Who’s ready to go skiing?” she said, her voice far too cheerful, as if trying to erase the past few minutes.
The intensity of the moment was impossible to ignore, but the trio outside the door could only stand there, dumbstruck, caught between wanting to know more and being too flustered to press further.