Page 31 of Daddy of the Mountain

"Much." There was something in his eyes—something warm, unguarded.

"Alright, mountain man," I said, unable to keep the grin off my face. "One more."

"Good girl," he said softly, and the words sent a shiver down my spine.

I turned away quickly, hoping he didn’t see the way my breath hitched. For the third time, I crossed my arms, squared my shoulders, and fell.

My breath caught, but instead of the usual spike of fear, something else surged up—light, electric. Halfway down, a laugh bubbled out of me, loud and startling, like I couldn’t keep it in anymore. It echoed off the trees, sharp and bright against the stillness.

His arms closed around me, solid as ever, pulling me upright before my boots could even skim the snow. “You’re laughing now?” Silas asked, his voice low, teasing. His brow ticked up, but there was heat in his eyes, the kind that made my stomach flip.

"Guess so," I said, twisting in his grip to face him. The grin on my face felt unstoppable, reckless. “Didn’t think you’d catch me that fast.”

"Always do," he said simply, his hands firm at my waist. He didn’t let go, not right away, and I didn’t step back either. There was something different about the way he held me now. Not just steady. Close. My heart thumped hard enough I swore he could hear it.

"Alright," I said, trying to sound casual, even though I wasn’t fooling anyone—not him, not myself. "That was fun."

"Fun?" His lips curved slightly, and for once, his face wasn’t all stern lines and shadow. That smile—unguarded, almost boyish—hit me harder than I expected.

"Yeah, fun," I shot back, lifting my chin. But the warmth in his eyes made it hard to hold onto the sass. My breath hitched when his thumb traced along my jawline, rough and deliberate. I froze, caught between leaning into him and stepping away.

"Good girl," he murmured, the words slow, deliberate. They hit me deep, warm and sweet, pooling low in my chest.

"Daddy," I said, quieter now, my voice not quite steady. I didn’t know if it was a warning or a plea. Maybe both.

The air between us thickened. His hand stayed on my jaw, thumb brushing slow and steady, like he could read every thought racing through my head. Maybe he could. I didn’t say a word, didn’t trust myself to, not with the way my chest rose and fell too fast, too shallow.

"Alana," he said, low, nearly a growl. My name sounded different when he said it like that. Rough. Intentional.

I tipped my face up before I could stop myself, instinct pulling me closer. His eyes flicked down to my lips, then back up, catching mine like they’d caught on something they couldn’t shake loose. And then his mouth was on mine.

It wasn’t soft—not at first. He kissed like he was staking a claim, firm and sure, drawing a small gasp from me before I melted into him. My hands found his coat, fingers curling intothe worn fabric as if holding on to him would keep the ground steady under my feet.

His beard scratched against my skin, rough but grounding, and his other hand came up to cradle the back of my head. Warmth spilled through me, starting at the press of his lips and spreading until it burned away the last chill in the mountain air. I forgot everything else—the cabin, the snow, even the ache in my ankle. There was only this, only him.

"Silas," I whispered against his mouth, not sure if I meant it as a question or a prayer.

"Shh, sweetheart," he murmured, the words brushing against me as softly as the wind. “Just let me.”

He kissed me again, slower this time. Like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to memorize me. His hand slid to my waist, pulling me closer, fitting us together like we were made for it. Every inch of him was solid, warm, steady, and I leaned into it, into him, more than I realized I needed to.

I shifted, and the snow crunched beneath us, reminding me where we were. But he didn’t seem to care. Neither did I. My fingers slipped higher, finding the collar of his jacket, the heat radiating from his neck, the pulse there strong and steady under my touch.

"Cold?" he asked, voice rougher now, his breath mingling with mine.

"I’m fine," I said, breathless. I was more than fine. My hands moved over him, exploring the hard planes of his chest, the unyielding strength in his shoulders. "You worried about me, Daddy?"

That word—"Daddy"—slipped out naturally now, teasing, testing him. His gaze darkened instantly, and I saw the way his jaw ticked, his grip tightening ever so slightly on my hip. It sent goosebumps skittering down my arms.

"Always," he rumbled, his voice rougher now. He shifted again, the movement deliberate as he slid a hand up my thigh, pushing aside the barrier of fabric. He paused, just for a second, giving me a chance to stop him. But I didn’t want to stop. Not now. Not with him.

I wrapped my arms around him and pulling him closer. I wanted to feel every part of him, to drown in this moment before it slipped away.

"Ally," he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire, and I could feel him, hard and thick against my inner thigh. "You sure about this?"

"I’ve never been surer," I breathed, my heart pounding in my ears, drowning out the world around us. In this moment, it was just the two of us, suspended in time and space, untouchable.

Silas's fingers danced over the fabric of my clothes, teasingly slow, savoring each inch of exposed skin as he traced patterns of heat and want. With a deft touch, he began to peel away the layers that separated us, revealing the vulnerable flesh beneath. I shivered in anticipation, my pulse thrumming in time with the mounting desire that coiled in my core.

---