Page 15 of The Forbidden Mountain Man Lumberjack
"Tell me to stop," she challenges, her eyes never leaving mine.
I should. God knows I should.
Instead, I close the distance between us and capture her mouth with mine.
The first touch of her lips is electric, sending fire racing through my veins. She makes a soft sound of surprise that melts into a sigh as her hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer.
The kiss deepens, and every reason why we shouldn't be doing this fades away under the heat of her mouth, the feel of her pressed against me. Her lips are soft, yielding yet demanding, and I'm lost in the taste of her, the small sounds she makes as I pull her onto my lap.
For this moment, she's not my consultant and I'm not her client. We're just a man and a woman, giving in to something that's been building since the moment she walked into my office.
And God help me, I never want it to end.
CHAPTER SIX
SOPHIA
His lips are warm against mine, the kiss deepening with an intensity that steals my breath. Wyatt's arms tighten around me, pulling me closer on his lap as the fire crackles in the hearth, bathing us in flickering amber light.
Time seems to slow, the world narrowing to just this moment, just this man. His beard is softer than I expected against my skin, his mouth firm yet yielding as it moves against mine with growing urgency.
When we finally part, both breathing hard, his eyes have darkened to the deep green of pine forests in shadow, desire evident in his gaze.
"Sophia," he says, my name a rough whisper that sends shivers down my spine.
I touch his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw through his beard. "I want this," I tell him, surprised by the steadiness in my voice despite the way my heart thunders in my chest. "I want you."
Something shifts in his expression—hunger tempered with tenderness. His hand rises to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip in a gesture so gentle it makes my heart ache.
"You're trembling," he observes, studying me with those perceptive eyes.
I laugh softly, nervously. "Is it that obvious?"
"Talk to me," he says, and the care in his voice gives me courage.
"I haven't... I've never..." I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "This would be my first time."
Understanding dawns in his eyes. "You're a virgin."
I nod, heat rushing to my face. "I focused on school, then my career. It never seemed like the right time or the right person."
Instead of the disappointment or hesitation I feared, his expression softens with something that looks remarkably like reverence.
"We can stop," he says, though I can feel how much he wants me in the slight tremor of his hand against my face. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."
"I don't want to stop." I shift closer, eliminating what little space remains between us. "I've just never wanted anyone the way I want you."
His eyes darken at my words, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of color remains. "Are you sure?"
In answer, I kiss him again, pouring all my certainty, all my wanting into the press of my lips against his.
He stands in one fluid motion, lifting me with him as if I weigh nothing at all. I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, my arms looping around his neck as he carries me toward the stairs. Each step jostles me against him, creating friction that pulls a soft gasp from my lips.
At the threshold of his bedroom, he pauses, looking down at me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "Last chance to change your mind."
"Take me to bed, Wyatt," I whisper against his lips.
He lays me on his bed with a gentleness that belies the strength in his arms, then stands back, his eyes never leaving mine as his fingers work the buttons of his flannel. The deliberate reveal of his body makes my mouth go dry—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, chest covered in dark hair that disappears beneath his jeans. A roadmap of scars tells stories of a life lived outdoors, of risks taken and survived.
