Page 6 of The Mountain Man Bidder

She’s seen me in town, in the woods, but neverhere.Never in the place I built with my own hands. The place that has been my refuge. Minealone.

What if she doesn’t like it? What if it’s too rough, too remote? What if she steps in here and realizes she belongs somewhere brighter, somewhere livelier, somewhere that isn’t with me?

I hear her car coming up my driveway, and my heart stutters in my chest.This was a stupid idea. I should have rented a hotel room with room service. Not cooked her rabbit that I caught in a snare today with herbs I grew in my window garden.

Then she walks through the door, and every doubt I have disappears.

Stella pauses on the threshold, eyes wide as she takes it all in. Then she smiles, slow and sweet, like she already feels right at home.

“This is perfect,” she says, her voice soft but certain.

Relief washes over me. I take her coat, hanging it by the door, and lead her to the table. We sit, and I watch her as she takes her first bite, her eyes slipping shut as she hums in appreciation.

“This is amazing, Pete,” she says. “You’re an excellent chef.”

I shrug, feeling a little self-conscious. “Had to learn to cook. Can’t exactly order takeout up here.”

She laughs, the sound wrapping around me like warm blanket, and suddenly the tension in my chest loosens. We talk about our favorite movies and books, about our childhood dreams and ambitions, and about silly everyday things that would be boring to anyone but us. And when the meal is done, and the fire is lower but still glowing, I take her hand and lead her to the couch.

The moment stretches between us, thick with something unspoken but understood. She looks up at me, her brown eyes searching, and when I lean in, she meets me halfway.

Her lips are soft, warm, tasting like wine and something sweeter. Something uniquelyher. My hands slide into her hair,and she presses closer, her fingers curling against my chest. The fire flickers and the world narrows to just this. Justus. I don’t want to rush, don’t want to push, but when she whispers my name against my lips, I know there’s no going back.

I lift her into my arms, carrying her to my bed, the heat between us building with every touch, every sigh. Her fingers slide under my shirt, tracing the hard planes of my back, sending a shudder through me. I press kisses along her jaw, down the curve of her throat, savoring every inch of her, every sound she makes.

She’s everything—soft and strong, delicate and wild all at once. I lay her onto the bed, and when she looks up at me, eyes dark with need, I know I’ll never be the same.

“Oh, God, Stella,” I murmur as I slide her jeans and panties down her hips, exposing her soft mound. She practically purrs, letting her knees fall open to show me everything. “Back up,” I instruct.

She obeys, and I kneel onto the bed, lowering my face to kiss her most intimate place.She’s so fucking sweet. Sweeter than any dessert.

She moans with pleasure, grinding against my face. I lick slowly, moving my tongue in lazy circles, lapping up her juices as she gets more and more wet. My hands reach up to find her breasts, only to discover that she’s still wearing her sweater. I shove my hands beneath the fabric, trailing my fingertips along her soft skin until I reach the lace of her bra.

“It snaps in the front,” she says breathlessly.

I find the latch and her tits spring free. Then they’re in my hands where they belong. I gently squeeze her nipples, and she cries out in ecstasy, coming on my tongue.

I stand, stripping off my own clothes faster than I ever have before. I’m goddamn Superman, moving at the speed of light to get inside her.

A moment later, I’m over her with my cock pressed against her center. “Tell me you want this,” I growl.

“I want—” I shove inside before she can finish the sentence. “Yes!”

We move together, slow at first, then desperate, like we’ve both been waiting for this moment our entire lives. She feels sofucking goodthat I have to ease back a few times to catch my breath. I want this to last. . . don’t want to explode too soon.

“Harder,” she moans. “Please. . . don’t stop!”

Jesus.I do as she commands, pounding her again and again and again, savoring each cry of pleasure that comes from her sweet mouth. I don’t just want her. Ineedher. I’m like a starving man who’s eating meat for the first time in years. And as I lose myself in her, and we shatter into a million pieces, crying out together, I know this is forever.

I’ve gotten what I always wanted—and so much more. Stella isn’t justmine.I’m alsohers.And that’s something this mountain man never imagined was possible.

Hours later, I wake to the first hints of morning light filtering through the trees, painting soft golden stripes across the bed. Stella is curled against me, her hair fanned out on my pillow, her breath steady and slow.

I’m used to waking up to an empty bed. But now I never want to wake up alone again.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her temple. She stirs slightly, then smiles without even opening her eyes.

“Morning,” she murmurs sleepily.

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