Page 7 of The Mountain Man's Prize

I work her with my tongue and fingers, careful and thorough, building her slowly toward release. When she comes for the first time, it's with my name on her lips and her hands fisted in my hair, her thighs trembling around my ears. The sound she makes—half sob, half moan—nearly undoes me.

I crawl back up her body, stripping off my shirt as I go. Her hands immediately find my chest, exploring the muscles and scars with curious fingers. When she reaches for the button of my jeans, I catch her wrist.

"Are you sure?" I ask one more time, voice strained with the effort of control.

In answer, she pulls me down for a kiss, tasting herself on my lips without hesitation. "I'm sure," she whispers. "I want you, Beau. All of you."

Something inside me breaks open at her words. I strip off my remaining clothes, then position myself between her thighs, the head of my cock nudging at her entrance. She's wet and ready, but I know this will hurt her. The thought both agonizes and inflames me—the pain I'll cause, but also the knowledge that no man has touched her like this before. No one but me.

"Look at me," I command softly, and her eyes lock with mine. "Keep looking at me."

She nods, hands gripping my biceps. I push forward slowly, watching her face for any sign of too much discomfort. There's resistance, then a sudden giving way as I breach her completely. She gasps, eyes widening, nails digging into my arms. I freeze, buried to the hilt inside her, letting her adjust to the intrusion.

"Breathe," I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers. "Just breathe."

I hold still, though it's torture. She's tight and hot around me, her inner muscles clenching as she adjusts. After what feels like an eternity, she shifts beneath me, a tiny movement of her hips that tells me she's ready.

I begin to move, setting a slow, gentle rhythm that soon has her sighing and lifting her hips to meet mine. Her discomfort fades, replaced by pleasure I can read in every line of her body. I drink in the sight of her—head thrown back, lips parted, eyes half-closed in ecstasy.

Mine.The word pounds in my head with each thrust.Mine. Mine. Mine.

"You feel so good," I growl against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear. "So perfect. So tight around me."

She moans in response, legs wrapping around my waist, changing the angle and taking me deeper. I increase the pace, unable to maintain the gentle rhythm as my control slips. She doesn't seem to mind, meeting me thrust for thrust, her nails raking down my back in a way that makes me hiss with pleasure-pain.

I reach between us, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center, circling it with my thumb in time with my thrusts. Her inner muscles clench around me, her breathing turning to short, sharp pants.

"That's it," I encourage her, voice rough with exertion and need. "Come for me again, little dove. Let me feel you."

She does, her climax washing over her in a wave I can feel rippling through her body. She cries out my name, back arching, and the sight of her coming undone is enough to send me over the edge with her. I bury myself deep one last time and let go, my release tearing through me with an intensity that leaves me shaking.

In the aftermath, I gather her close, pulling the quilt over our cooling bodies. She curls against me, head on my chest, one leg thrown over mine. I stroke her hair, marveling at the silky texture, the way it slides through my fingers like water.

"Are you okay?" I ask, voice gentle in the quiet cabin.

She nods against my chest, then tilts her face up to mine. Her eyes are sleepy, satisfied, but also wondering. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Pride surges through me, fierce and primitive. "Good."

She studies my face, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "You called me yours," she says softly. "While we were... you said I was yours."

Did I say it aloud? I must have, in the heat of the moment. I consider lying, downplaying it. But the truth is etched too deeply in me now to deny.

"You are," I say simply. "From the moment I found you, you've been mine. I just didn't want to scare you with how quickly I knew it."

Instead of pulling away, she smiles—a small, secret curve of her lips that makes my heart stutter. "I think I might be," she whispers, and presses those smiling lips to my chest, right over my thundering heart.

five

Lila

I wakeup sore in places I've never been sore before, my body a map of sweet aches and tender spots. Beau's arm is heavy across my waist, his chest a furnace against my back. His breath stirs the hair at my nape, sending tiny shivers down my spine. I should feel trapped, pinned beneath the weight of him, but instead, I feel... anchored. Like I've been adrift my entire life, and his body is the first solid thing I've found to hold onto.

Light filters through the cabin's small windows, gray and dim—morning, but the storm still rages. The wind howls around the eaves, rain lashing against the glass, but in here, it's warm. Safe. I shift slightly, testing the various aches that pulse through my body. Between my thighs, there's a delicious soreness that makes heat bloom in my cheeks when I remember how it got there.

Last night. God, last night.

I've spent my whole life being careful. Sensible. The good girl who never took risks, who always colored inside the lines. Twenty-three years of measured steps and responsible choices. Then one storm, one cabin, one man with wild blue eyes, and suddenly I'm giving my virginity to a stranger who looks at me like he wants to consume me whole.

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