Page 17 of Curves for the Mountain Man

He growls on an exhale. “You’re too good for me. Too fucking good, but I don’t know…”

“Don’t know what?”

“How the fuck I’ll let you go when the time comes.” His eyes redden, and he looks away, swallowing hard.

“Must you?” I stroke his cheek, my voice trembling.

“The only thing I must do is start over with you. Do things right,” he says, quickly swiping the back of his hand over his cheeks before setting his gaze on me. His lashes are moist, his eyes swirling with a depth of emotion I wish I could unravel. “I need another chance to make you feel good, Ginger. To show you what it’s supposed to be like between a man and a woman.”

My heart hammers in my chest, my eyes rounding quizzically. “Okay,” I sigh, anticipation lighting up my nerves.

“Let me get you cleaned up, and then we’ll try this again properly. If you still trust me after that botched-up fucking.”

“Botched up?” My bottom lip trembles. “I loved it. It made me feel so many things I’ve never felt before.”

“Pain shouldn’t be one of them.” He frowns, motioning for me to stand.

My cheeks burn. “Don’t look because there could be blood. I don’t want to gross you out.”

The big Ranger shakes his head, nuzzling my neck and massaging my hips with his big hands. “You could never gross me out.”

“But—”

“It’s not possible.”

I run my hands through his long hair, unceasingly fascinated by his flowing locks and soft beard. In this environment, surrounded by everything uncivilized and untamed, he’s gloriously wild, breathtakingly feral.

“Let me do this right for you,” he growls seductively, urging me to stand and follow behind him as he threads his fingers with mine. “Please.”

I nod, desire and curiosity twisting in my mind.

Stripped down to our souls, he cleans me gently with icy water from the falls and then scrubs his chest and cock briskly. A thick knot forms in my throat as I watch the droplets slide down his chiseled pecs and well-defined abs, anticipation building in my chest with the thrum of my heart.

Guiding me back to the bed of boughs, hands-held, fingers-entwined, he encourages me to lie down, his eyes sliding over my naked body as I recline. He follows, wrapping me in his warm, strong arms and pressing our bodies together. Lying flesh-to-flesh like this is deliciously sensual as his hands roam boundless over my body.

His lips cover mine, kissing me gently as my breath hastens. His hands stroke my cheeks and hair, and he makes out with me, our chests pressed together, our hearts happily slamming against each other.

“Damn, you are a good kisser, Aries,” he pants, finally pulling away to catch his breath with a lopsided grin.

My cheeks burn as I flirt, “The question is, are you Scorpio freaky?”

He chuckles, tweaking my nose playfully. “You have to judge for yourself. But I’d love to spend hours learning your body, every inch of it, and what makes you lose your mind. Get the right toys for you and find a million ways to get you off. Make it my li—” His eyes startle, and he amends his words. “Make it my mission to make your legs shake.”

“I want that,” I whimper, wishing he’d spoken his first impulse.

He smiles sadly, stroking my cheek. “Get comfortable,” he orders, moving towards my feet.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong, Sweetness. You’re just so fucking gorgeous. I can’t take my eyes off you. And you do fucked up shit to my heart.”

“Fucked up shit?”

“The best kind of fucked up shit,” he answers. “I’m a Ranger, Ginger, not a poet.”

I giggle as he strokes the outsides of my thighs, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’m going to eat you out until your pussy grinds into my face drowning me in your sugar-sweet honey.”

My breath catches in my throat.

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