Page 3 of Beastly Mountain Man

And the way he’s looking down at me now? He looks like he wants to devour me whole.

I push myself up, wobbling onto my knees. My tongue darts over my dry lip, tasting dirt and adrenaline.

“Can you help me?” The words leave my mouth too soft, too breathless. “I’m lost.”

I’m not just lost—I’m unraveling.

His gaze scrapes over me, lingering where my shirt sticks to sweat-damp skin. Every instinct screams danger, but my body hums with something hotter, deeper. Fear and hunger twist together until I can’t tell them apart.

As his shadow swallows me whole, I wonder if I’ve just traded the wilderness for a different kind of beast.

2

Ace

The afternoon had been a slow defeat. Empty traps, stolen bait—just snagged cages and silence. By the time I stomped back toward the cabin, my mood was foul as it was.

Then she appeared.

A tangle of red hair stuck to her flushed cheeks, sweat gliding over freckled skin. Eyes green as the pines choking these woods—wide, unblinking. Spread across the ground as she took me in. Like a rabbit caught in a snare, waiting for its end.

My stomach clenches at the recent memory, but not from hunger for the food I could’ve had.

Now look at her, kneeling in the dirt, lips parted, with a wide-eyed look that has all the blood in my body roaring south.

My cock hardens, straining against my jeans like it meant to tear through the zipper. All she has to do is lower her gaze, and she’ll see it. Before she can, I move.

Without a word, I pull her pack from her shoulders. Hooking my finger in the small loop, it’s almost funny how easily she lets me. If I have to guess, it’s because she’s caught off guard. Too shocked to react quickly enough.

As she rises unsteadily, my hand finds her arm to steady her. Sunlight catches the dust swirling around her—pale skin gilded with earth, strands of hair clinging to her damp neck. When she shifts her weight, my gaze flickers downward instinctively, catching the shadowed warmth between her thighs.

For a minute, I forget how rude it is to stare. This pull she has on me is like sharp nails digging deep, keeping my eyes on where I want to touch her instead.

I force my eyes upward before they linger too long, but the image stays with me.

Her gasp is sharp in the humid air as I hoist her up effortlessly, like lifting kindling. Before she can protest, she’s draped over my shoulder, her hip grazing my ear as she squirms.

“Hey! I can walk—” Her voice cracks, half-anger, half-panic. Fingers scramble for purchase, hooking into my belt loops like they’re lifelines. The heat of her palms burns through denim. “I haven’t even told you where to go!”

Doesn’t matter. I know exactly where she belongs.

In my cabin, on my bed, with my tongue on her skin, once this hunger ripping through my gut finally wins.

I’m not the only one driven mad. All I have to do is breathe in, and I can smell it. Her arousal.

My boots crunch faster, my pulse racing.

This woman is mine. I’ve already decided on it. She’ll be my meal tonight.

Halfway through the hike back, her squirming slows and soon gives up altogether. Like a sack, she sighs.

“Where is everyone? Why haven’t we passed by a single person?” She’s still agitated. Her breath tickles my tailbone.

“Dangerous. Too much wildlife,” I explain, and feel the way her body responds to my voice. She shivered as if a chill had run along her spine. “Locals stay away from this part of the mountain.”

“Youcanspeak. Where are you taking me?” Just like that, she’s jerking again, demanding answers.

Grunting when her foot hits a little too close to my erection, I growl and tighten my grip on her thighs before slapping my palm against her ass. “Settle.”

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