Page 68 of Trapped with the Forest Ranger
He parts my thighs.
Kneels.
My heart stops.
“Caleb—”
“This is what you get,” he says, his gazeblazing up into mine. “For now.”
His hands curl around my hips like he owns them. Like he owns me. The first swipe of his tongue steals my breath.
He worships.
Not with cruelty. Not with control. But with devotion.
“If you come back—if you choose me—we’ll talk about fantasies.” His voice is darker now, full of promise and warning. “But this? This is what I want you to remember.”
Then he leans in. Every stroke is reverent. Every growl against my skin is a benediction. I arch. I tremble. I shatter, again and again, until I’m boneless, breathless, broken open and whole in the same heartbeat.
And everything else disappears.
The trees. The stars. The night itself.
All gone.
Replaced by the heat of his mouth, the relentless rhythm of his tongue, the low growls of satisfaction vibrating against my skin. My fingers tangle in his hair. My head falls back. Every nerve lights up with need. With knowing.
I’ll never forget this.
Not if I live to be a hundred.
When he rises, his lips glisten and his pupils are blown wide. He kisses me like he’s never going to stop. Like maybe he never should.
Then he lifts me again, this time into his arms, cradling me like something precious. Like something he already knows he can’t afford to lose.
He takes me back inside and lays me on the bed, and then…
He fucks me like he's angry. Like he's grieving. Like he's already missing me. Like he’s leaving pieces of himself inside me to carry to Australia. Branding his name beneath my skin.
I meet every thrust, hands scrabbling for purchase. The wet sounds of our joining fill the air along with our raggedbreathing, my whimpers, his growls.
"Remember me." His free hand finds my throat. Not squeezing, just holding. Possessing. "Remember this feeling when I’m not there."
The words break something in him.
This angle is deep. More primal. He sets a punishing rhythm that has me climbing toward release embarrassingly fast.
I whimper. Try to hold back the tide building inside me, but he knows my body too well. Knows exactly how to push me to the edge. His fingers find my clit, circling with devastating precision.
He pulls almost all the way out. Slams back in.
I shatter.
My climax rips through me like lightning, every nerve ending firing at once. I scream as my body convulses around him. He fucks me through it, prolonging the waves until I'm sobbing from overstimulation.
Only then does he let himself go. His rhythm falters. His grip tightens. He buries himself deep with a roar that sounds like my name and empties himself inside me.
When we collapse together afterward, tangled and raw, I don’t feel broken. I feelwhole.
