Page 11 of My Protective Mountain Man

I shake my head in the negative. I’ve never done any of this before. My eyes are wide open and the anticipation is nearly killing me.

He picks me up and lays me down on the bed, spreading my legs. He slides two fingers into my wet heat, feeling my tightness,my virginity. He groans, I can see in his eyes he’s filled with lust and possession. He positions his face between my legs, his tongue finding the most sensitive part of my center.

I moan, my hands grabbing the sheets. "Everest, that feels so good."

My insides grow warmer, slicker. I can feel my juices sliding out of my center. The more he licks, the more swollen I feel. I can feel my walls clenching on his fingers as intense pleasure builds inside of me.

He continues to lick and suck, his fingers slipping in and out of me. My moans grow louder, my body tensing as I approach my climax. Everest looks up at me, his eyes never leaving mine as I come undone.

"Oh, Everest," I cry out, my body convulsing. My thighs begin to tremble and my body seizes in the most incredible feeling I’ve ever had in my life. Like all the tension has exploded and left my body in a sweet, lingering rapture.

Everest smiles, his fingers still inside me. "You taste incredible."

He lays next to me and holds me in his arms. My breathing slowly returns to normal. But my heart is racing. Not because I’m scared. But because I’m know I won’t be able to do what I came here to do. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

I’m supposed to talk to him about the land. That’s why I came here in the first place—my job, my future, everything I’ve worked for depends on this. If I can close this deal, it’s my ticket out. My ticket to freedom. The chance to finally stop answering to men like my boss who treat me like I’m expendable.

But I haven’t brought it up. I can’t. And the longer I’m here, the harder it gets.

Because Everest… he isn’t just some man standing in the way of a project. He’s not an obstacle. He’s a person. A good one. Rugged and rough around the edges, sure, but steady. Kind. Theway his eyes linger on mine makes me feel weaker than I already am.

I don’t want to pitch him. I don’t want to be the person who turns him into a transaction. I won’t be the woman who tries to get him to sell the family land that has such obvious sentimental value. I want to be someone he can trust.

And that terrifies me, because I haven’t told him the full truth. Not yet. But when he finds out, I know this will end badly. And every hour I spend wrapped in his warmth, in the illusion that this—we—are untangled from what brought me here, that truth gets heavier. It’s pressing down on me now, right here in his bed, making it hard to breathe. I don’t want this to end—ever.

But for now, I’ll drift off to sleep in the strongest arms I’ll probably ever know.

CHAPTER

SIX

EVEREST

The summer sunis beginning to rise and its warmth begins permeating my cabin. My arm is draped over her waist, our bodies tangled under the blanket on the bed, like we’ve always been this way. Last night was the beginning of something new in my life. I can already feel it.

Sierra’s breathing is slow, steady. Her cheek is resting against my chest, her fingers curled lightly against my ribs. Every part of her is pressed into me, like she belongs there. Like she always has.

I’ve never felt more sure of anything in my life.

Not the land. Not the quiet. Not even the mountain I’ve called home.

Buther?

Yeah. She’s the surest thing I’ve ever felt.

She stirs, just barely, her head shifting, breath catching slightly as she starts to wake. I brush my lips against her hair.

“Good morning,” I murmur.

She hums sleepily and nuzzles in a little closer. My chest tightens. I want to freeze time. Hold onto this moment and never let it go.

I pull back just enough to slip out from under the blanket. She groans softly but doesn’t protest. I smile and head into the kitchen to make her coffee. I don’t think I’ve memorized anything that fast in my life.

As it brews, I glance toward the bed where she still lies, one hand now resting where my chest had been. Like she’s still holding onto me.

I bring the mug to her carefully and kneel down beside her. Her eyes flutter open, soft and sleepy and so damn beautiful it physically hurts to look at her.

“Here,” I whisper. “For you.”

---