Page 48 of Trapped with the Forest Ranger
“You absolutely were.” I prop myself up on his chest, searching his face for any sign of regret. There’s none—just a relaxed openness, a dangerous contentment. “Practically snarled when you opened the door.”
“In my defense, you were tracking mud everywhere.” He smirks, but the words are gentle, almost indulgent.
I settle back into him, letting his warmth anchor me, the steady thump of his heart grounding me in the present.
His fingers thread through my hair, not tentative, commanding, working through the tangles with a patiencethat feels like ownership.
“You’re not going to run from me, are you?” The question is quiet, but there’s an edge to it—a challenge, a warning.
“No. Not tonight.” I shake my head, breath catching.
“You tell me if you want me to stop, or if you want more." His voice is unyielding, dominant even in vulnerability.
"I’ll take everything you give me. All of it. All of you.” Heat floods my cheeks, my body already answering for me.
He releases my neck only to drag his thumb along my jaw, claiming me with the smallest touch. "You have no idea how much I’m still holding back.”
“That should terrify me.” A shiver runs through me—fear and excitement tangled, impossible to separate.
“It should." His smile turns wolfish. "But you keep pushing. You keep asking for more, and I’ll bring it to you. Every dark, filthy thing you ever dreamed of. Just say the word.”
"I don’t know what that word is, but…" My breath stutters. “I trust you.”
“You take everything I give you, so beautifully.” His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face up for a slow, claiming kiss.
The words curl around me, hot and possessive, sinking straight to my core. His thumb drags along my jaw, holding me in place, gaze burning with a promise that’s anything but gentle.
Caleb doesn’t let me drift. He keeps me close, his dominance coiling tighter with every hour, every look. He doesn’t ask what I want—he tells me, shows me, and makes me want things I never dared say out loud.
He’s still holding back. Holding back because he knows all of this comes with an expiration date.
Because the day will come when I have to leave.
We lie tangled together, the aftermath heavy and sweet, his dominance still coiled around me like a second skin. Night falls as we talk—his stories, my confessions, the kind ofhonesty that only comes when you’ve been stripped bare, body and soul.
When sleep finally drags me under, I’m wrapped in his arms, his breath hot against my neck, his grip unyielding even in rest.
I feel truly wanted for the first time, which terrifies me more than any storm ever could.
Chapter 13
Heat lingersin the stillness of the cabin, thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and pine. Sheets cling to damp skin, tangled around our limbs, as I surface slowly—awareness unfolding in lazy waves. Caleb’s arm lies heavy across my waist, his breath steady against the back of my neck, warm and anchoring. My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache—used, marked, claimed.
Last night comes rushing back in fragments: the feral hunger in his eyes, the way he broke me apart and pieced me back together with every rough, reverent touch. The way he held me after, solid and possessive, daring anything or anyone to come between us.
I shift, careful not to break the spell, just enough to see his face. In sleep, the hard lines of worry and restraint have melted away, leaving him almost boyish—unguarded, heartbreakingly beautiful.
Something fierce and unfamiliar tightens in my chest, a yearning that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the man beside me.
His eyes flutter open, finding mine. For a moment, confusionflickers there—then recognition, and something softer, rawer.
“Hey.” His voice is rough with sleep, threaded with that dominant edge that never really leaves him.
“Hey, yourself.” Suddenly, I’m shy, the reality of morning-after intimacy hitting harder than any of last night’s confessions.
He doesn’t let me pull away. His arm tightens, anchoring me, dragging me back into the heat of his body.
“You sleep okay?”
