Page 21 of Rescued By the Mountain Man

"God help us," I chuckle, letting her lead me inside.

The cabin is warm, the fire crackling in the stone hearth. It's bigger than my old place—three bedrooms, an open kitchen and living area, wide windows that showcase the mountains in every direction. Photos line the walls—our makeshift wedding at Darkmore Peak's summit, Jade's first day leading the resort's new avalanche awareness program, Lilybeth's birth, countless moments of our life together.

I shed my jacket and boots while Aspen heads straight for her cushion near the fire, circling three times before collapsing with a contented sigh.

"Hungry?" Jade asks, moving toward the kitchen.

"Just tired," I admit. "And cold. Can't seem to get warm."

She turns, eyeing me with a look I've come to recognize—and anticipate. "I think I can help with that."

Before I can respond, she's crossed back to me, rising on tiptoes to press her mouth to mine. The kiss starts soft, a welcome home, but quickly deepens as her tongue traces the seam of my lips. I respond instantly, my body forgetting its exhaustion as more primal needs take over.

"Jade," I murmur against her mouth. "I should shower first."

"Mmm, in a minute." Her hands slide under my thermal shirt, palms flat against my stomach. "First, I want to warm you up."

She guides me to the couch, pushing gently until I'm seated. Then she kneels between my legs, looking up at me with those green eyes that still hold the power to undo me completely. Her hands work at my belt, then the button of my jeans.

"You don't have to—" I begin.

"I want to," she interrupts, her smile both sweet and wicked. "I missed you. Let me show you how much."

She tugs my jeans and boxers down just enough to free me. Despite my exhaustion, I'm already hardening under her gaze. Her hand wraps around me, stroking slowly, her touch both familiar and thrilling.

"You have no idea how sexy you are when you come home from a mission," she says, her voice low. "All rugged and heroic."

"I'm just doing my job," I reply, though her words send heat coursing through me.

"My job right now," she says, maintaining eye contact as she leans forward, "is to make my husband forget about everything but how good this feels."

Her mouth closes over me, warm and wet, and a groan escapes before I can stop it. Her lips slide down my length, taking me deeper than seems possible. My hands find her hair, not guiding, just connecting, feeling the silky strands between my fingers.

She works me with practiced skill, knowing exactly how to bring me to the edge without pushing me over. Her tongue swirls around the head, tracing patterns that make my hips buck involuntarily. All the while, she watches me, her eyes locked on mine, the connection between us so much more than physical.

"God, Jade," I breathe, cupping her cheek in my palm. "You're incredible."

She hums in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. Her free hand slides up my thigh, then higher, under my shirt, nails lightly scratching across my abdomen. The dual sensation—her mouth around me, her hand on my skin—is intoxicating.

The cold that had seeped into my bones during the long rescue is replaced by scorching heat. Every muscle in my body tightens as pleasure builds, coiling at the base of my spine. I fight to maintain control, to prolong this exquisite torture.

"Jade," I warn, my voice strained. "I'm close."

She pulls back just enough to whisper, "I want to taste you," before taking me deep again.

Her words push me over the edge. My release hits with the force of an avalanche, white-hot pleasure flooding every nerve ending as I come in her mouth. She stays with me through every pulse, every shudder, only pulling away when I'm completely spent.

I slump back against the couch, breathing hard, as she rises to sit beside me. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"Warmer now?" she asks innocently.

I laugh, pulling her against my side. "Much. Though I'm not sure I can move anymore."

"Mission accomplished, then." She snuggles closer, her head on my shoulder.

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, my heartbeat gradually slowing. My hand finds its way to her stomach again, to the miracle growing there.

"I love you," I say, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything I feel for this woman who crashed into my life and refused to leave.

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