💻 Hard Reset Bonus Content 🔥
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You found it! This is the exclusive bonus content hub for Hard Reset. As a huge thank you for reading, we’ve put together some extra material that you won’t find anywhere else.
Below you’ll find an exclusive extended scene set three months after the epilogue—Tom and Alex’s first weekend away at a mountain cabin. We hope you enjoy spending a little more time with your favorite grumpy silver fox and his sunshine!
✨ EXCLUSIVE BONUS SCENE ✨
The Cabin
⚠️ Content Warning: Explicit sexual content, praise kink, and size appreciation. Intended for mature readers only.
Three months after the epilogue
The cabin was Tom’s idea.
"A weekend away," he’d said, showing me the listing on his phone. "Just us. No work, no phones, no interruptions."
The photos showed a rustic A-frame nestled in the mountains, all exposed beams and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a private lake. There was a hot tub on the deck. A king-sized bed piled with blankets. A fireplace big enough to roast a small horse.
"It’s four hours away," I’d pointed out.
"That’s the point." Tom had pulled me close, his mouth hot against my ear. "I want you somewhere no one can hear you scream."
So here we were.
We’d arrived Friday evening, just as the sun was setting behind the mountains. Tom had built a fire while I unpacked the groceries—wine for me, sparkling water for him, enough food to last a week even though we were only staying two nights.
Now it was Saturday morning, and I was lying in the massive bed watching Tom sleep, and I was already half-hard just from looking at him.
He was on his stomach, face buried in the pillow, the blankets pushed down to his waist. His bare back was a landscape I knew by heart—the broad shoulders, the dimples above his ass, the scattered moles I’d traced with my tongue a hundred times. His hair was messy from sleep, gray catching the morning light.
Beautiful. He was so fucking beautiful, and he still didn’t believe me when I told him.
I scooted closer, pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. He made a sleepy sound but didn’t wake.
Another kiss, lower. Then lower still. I pulled the blanket down inch by inch, revealing the swell of his ass—thick and firm, covered in fine dark hair that I loved to grip when he was inside me.
"Alex." His voice was muffled, groggy. "What are you doing?"
"Waking you up."
"I noticed." He shifted, turning his head to look at me with one half-open eye. "It’s early."
"It’s nine. That’s late for us." I kissed the small of his back, let my tongue trace the dimple there. "Besides, I have plans for you today."
"Plans?"
"Mmhm." I nipped at his hip, felt him shiver. "You said no interruptions. No one to hear me scream." I slid my hand between his thighs, cupped him from behind—already thickening, his body responding to me even half-asleep. "I intend to take full advantage."
Tom groaned, pressing back into my hand. "You’re insatiable."
"You love it."
"I do." He rolled onto his back, and I got my first look at him fully—the hairy chest, the soft belly, the cock that was rapidly filling against his thigh. Even half-hard, he was obscene. Thick and heavy, the foreskin still covering most of the head.
A year together, and the sight still made my mouth water.
"Come here," he said, reaching for me.
I went. Crawled up his body, straddled his hips, leaned down to kiss him. Morning breath and all, because we were past caring about things like that. His hands found my ass immediately, squeezing hard, pulling me down so our cocks aligned.
"What do you want?" he murmured against my mouth.
"Everything. You. All of it."
"That’s not specific."
"Fine." I sat up, rolled my hips, watched his eyes go dark as I ground against him. "I want you to open me up with your fingers until I’m begging. Then I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for days. I want to scream loud enough to scare the wildlife. And then, when we’re done, I want to do it all over again."
Tom’s hands tightened on my hips. "We can do that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He flipped us suddenly—one of those moves that reminded me how strong he was, how easily he could manhandle me when he wanted to. I landed on my back with him looming over me, his weight pinning me to the mattress. "But first, I want to taste you."
He kissed down my body without waiting for a response. Throat, collarbone, chest—pausing to suck one nipple until I gasped, then the other. Down my stomach, following the trail of hair, nuzzling into the crease of my hip.
"Tom—"
"Patience." He mouthed at the base of my cock, his breath hot through the thin fabric of my boxers. "We have all weekend. I’m going to take my time."
He pulled my boxers down, freeing my erection. I was hard enough to ache, pre-come already beading at the tip. Tom looked at me like I was a meal he was about to devour.
"Beautiful," he said, and then his mouth was on me.
He’d gotten so good at this. In the early days, he’d been hesitant, unsure—learning a new skill, figuring out what I liked. Now he sucked cock like he’d been doing it his whole life. Deep strokes, perfect suction, his tongue doing things that made my toes curl.
I fisted my hands in the sheets, trying not to thrust. "Fuck, Tom, your mouth—"
He hummed around me, the vibration shooting straight to my core. One hand came up to cup my balls, rolling them gently, while the other slid between my cheeks to press against my hole.
"Yes," I gasped. "Please, yes—"
He pulled off long enough to wet his finger, then took me back into his mouth while he pressed inside. Just one finger at first, slow and teasing, opening me up by increments. I bore down on it, desperate for more.
"More. I can take more."
A second finger joined the first. The stretch was delicious—that familiar burn that meant good things were coming. Tom fucked me with his fingers in rhythm with his mouth, and I lost myself in the dual sensation, pleasure building from both ends.
"I’m gonna come," I warned, my voice breaking. "Tom, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna—"
He didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down—sucking harder, fucking me faster, crooking his fingers to nail my prostate on every thrust. I came with a shout that echoed off the cabin walls, pulsing into his mouth while my body clenched around his fingers.
He worked me through it, gentle now, easing me down. When he finally pulled off, his lips were red and swollen, and he was looking at me with naked hunger.
"Good?" he asked.
"You know it was." I reached for him, pulled him up for a kiss. Tasted myself on his tongue. "Now I want the rest of it."
"Already?"
"Give me five minutes." I grinned against his mouth. "Then I want you to wreck me."
The five minutes turned into ten, but only because Tom insisted on fingering me properly.
"I’m not going to hurt you," he said, three fingers deep, stretching me with patient determination. "You know how thick I am. You need to be ready."
"I’m ready. I’m so ready, Tom, please—"
"One more." He added a fourth finger, and I keened at the stretch. It was a lot—four of his thick fingers was close to the girth of his cock—but my body opened for him, welcomed him, wanted more.
"Okay." He withdrew his fingers, and I felt the loss immediately—empty, aching, desperate to be filled. "Okay, you’re ready."
I watched him roll on the condom, slick himself with lube. His cock looked even bigger than usual, flushed and straining, the head fully exposed now. A year together, and I still felt a thrill of anticipation every time we did this. A little bit of nervousness, a lot of want.
"How do you want me?" I asked.
"On your stomach. Pillow under your hips."
I arranged myself, face down on the mattress, ass tilted up. I heard Tom groan behind me.
"Look at you." His hands smoothed over my cheeks, spreading me open. "So perfect. So ready for me."
"Then stop teasing and fuck me."
He laughed, low and dark. Then I felt him—the blunt head of his cock pressing against my hole, demanding entry.
The first push was always the hardest. No matter how much prep we did, no matter how relaxed I was, there was always that moment of too much. Tom was thick—thicker than anyone I’d ever been with—and my body had to stretch to accommodate him.
"Breathe," he said, one hand rubbing soothing circles on my lower back. "Just breathe, baby. Let me in."
I breathed. Forced myself to relax, to open, to trust him. And slowly, inch by inch, he sank inside.
The stretch was intense. Overwhelming. I felt every ridge of him, every vein, the impossible girth of him spreading me wider than I thought I could go. By the time he bottomed out—hips flush against my ass, buried to the hilt—I was shaking.
"Okay?" Tom’s voice was strained with the effort of holding still.
"Yeah." I turned my head, pressed my cheek into the pillow. "So full. God, Tom, you’re so deep—"
"You take me so well." He pulled out an inch, pushed back in. Testing. "Like you were made for my cock."
"More. I need more."
He gave me more.
The first few thrusts were slow, careful—letting me adjust, making sure I could handle it. But I was past the point of careful. I pushed back against him, fucking myself on his cock, demanding more.
"Harder," I gasped. "Come on, Tom, I won’t break. Fuck me like you mean it."
Something snapped in him. I felt it—the moment he let go of his control, stopped being careful, started taking what he wanted.
He grabbed my hips and pounded into me.
The sound alone was obscene—skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of lube, my breathless moans and his guttural grunts. The bed frame slammed against the wall with every thrust. I buried my face in the pillow and screamed.
"That’s it." Tom’s voice was wrecked, barely recognizable. "Let me hear you. No one around for miles—scream for me."
I screamed. I couldn’t have held it back if I’d tried. Every thrust punched the air out of my lungs, hit something deep inside me that made my vision white out. I was hard again—impossibly, achingly hard—my cock rubbing against the pillow beneath me.
"Gonna come," I sobbed. "Tom, I’m gonna come again, just from your cock—"
"Do it." He shifted angles, and suddenly he was nailing my prostate on every stroke. "Come for me. Come on my cock like a good boy."
That was it. The good boy did it. I came for the second time that morning, untouched, spilling onto the pillow beneath me while my whole body convulsed. Tom fucked me through it—two more strokes, three—and then he was coming too, burying himself deep and pulsing inside me.
We collapsed together, sweaty and gasping.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Tom was still inside me—softening now, but neither of us wanted to break the connection. His weight pressed me into the mattress, heavy and grounding.
"Holy shit," I finally managed.
"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to my shoulder blade. "Yeah."
"You called me good boy."
"I did. You liked it."
"I really did." I turned my head, caught his eye. "We should explore that."
Tom grinned, slow and filthy. "We have all weekend."
We did explore it. That afternoon, in the hot tub, where Tom held me in his lap and whispered filthy praise in my ear while I rode him slow and deep.
"Such a good boy for me. Taking my cock so well. You love being full of me, don’t you?"
I did. God, I did.
Later, after dinner, in front of the fireplace on a pile of blankets. Tom on his back this time, me straddling him, controlling the pace. I sank down onto him inch by inch, watching his face as I took all of him.
"You’re so tight." His hands gripped my thighs hard enough to bruise. "Every time, so fucking tight. How are you still this tight after a year?"
"Maybe you’re just that big."
"Alex—" His hips jerked up, and I gasped as he went impossibly deeper. "You can’t say things like that when I’m inside you."
"Why not?" I rolled my hips, clenching around him deliberately. "It’s true. You’re huge, Tom. The biggest I’ve ever had. Sometimes I still can’t believe I can take all of you."
He growled—actually growled—and flipped us over, pinning me beneath him. His next thrust drove the breath from my lungs.
"You take it because you’re mine," he said, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips. "Because your body knows who it belongs to. Because you were made for this—made for me."
"Yes," I gasped. "Yours. All yours. Only yours."
We came together that time, mouths locked, bodies shaking. I felt him pulse inside me and thought, This. This is what I was waiting for my whole life.
Sunday morning, we lay in bed watching the sun rise over the lake.
My body was deliciously sore—the good kind of sore, the kind that reminded me of every moment we’d shared. I’d have bruises on my hips where Tom had gripped me. My throat was raw from screaming.
I’d never been happier.
"We should do this more often," I said, tracing shapes on Tom’s chest. "Get away. Just the two of us."
"We should." He caught my hand, brought it to his lips. "Maybe make it a regular thing. Once a month, or—"
"Once a month seems ambitious. We have jobs."
"Jobs are overrated." He kissed my knuckles, one by one. "You’re more important."
"Sap."
"Your sap."
I smiled, warm and content. "Yeah. My sap."
We lay there in comfortable silence, watching the light change. Eventually, we’d have to get up. Pack our things. Drive back to the real world, with its responsibilities and routines.
But not yet. Right now, we had this—the cabin, the quiet, each other.
Tom pulled me closer, pressed his lips to my forehead.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too." I tilted my head up, kissed him soft and slow. "Now take me back to bed. We’ve got a few more hours before checkout, and I intend to use every single one of them."
Tom grinned. "Yes sir."
He did.
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