Page 4 of Bewitched By the Mountain Man
"Maybe." His hand comes up slowly, giving me time to move away if I want. But I don't. His fingers graze my chin, tilting my face up to his. "Or maybe you're tired of being the good girl."
I flinch, not from the words, but from how right they are. I've always been good. Done what I was supposed to. And where has it gotten me?
Even the way he says it,good girl, makes my stomach flutter. Like maybe I’m not one. Not anymore.
"I don't even know your name," I whisper.
"That's the point." His thumb traces my bottom lip, and I shiver. "Here, we're nobody. No history, no expectations."
"This is crazy."
"Yes."
"I don't do things like this."
"I can tell."
"But I want to."
The words are out, and my pulse stumbles. When did I become this person? This woman in a too-short dress in a sex club, contemplating hooking up with a stranger in a mask?
His hand slides into my hair, and he waits. The choice is mine.
I don’t kiss strangers. I definitely don’t kiss them in masked sex clubs. But I close the distance anyway.
His mouth finds mine as if he’s been waiting for it all night. His hands grip my waist, dragging me against him, and I go. No hesitation. No shame. No second guessing.
My fingers thread through his hair, and I use it to pull him closer. His kiss deepens as he growls against my lips. He’s swallowing me, devouring me, and I want every second of it.
When he finally pulls away, his mouth grazes my ear.
“We could go back out there. Or you could stay here with me, and I’ll show you what it means not to be a good girl.”
2
LACHLAN
Istare down at her, this fragile, intoxicating creature who hasn’t run or even looked away. Who should absolutely know better.
She doesn’t. Or she doesn’t care.
Her breath is shallow, chest rising in soft, uneven waves. That mask shields half her face, but nothing can hide the desire in her eyes.
“I want to stay here with you,” she says.
That’s it. The dam breaks. I reach past her and turn the lock.
I kiss her again, harder this time, consuming her with everything I haven’t let myself want in too long. Her lips part on a gasp, and I take full advantage, claiming her mouth.
My hand tightens on her waist, dragging her against me. My fingers slide into her hair and I tug, just enough to tilt her head back. I want more of her mouth. More of the little sounds she makes when I take what I want. She gives in so easily, but not weakly. She's choosing this.
I didn’t come here for this. I never do. This place is for control, not chaos. For watching, not touching. I don’t chase women. I don’t fuck in the open. I don’t lose control.
But this one.
Something about her calls to every part of me I’ve kept locked down.
I break the kiss and lift her onto the nearby table. The wood groans under us, candles sputtering in their holders. Her dress rides up, barely covering anything, and I shove it higher, my palms sliding up her thighs. They're soft, quivering under my touch.
