Page 51 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
I stalk her again, voice a snarl. “Say that again.”
She pokes my chest. “You. Are. A. Mountain. Men climb mountains.”
I catch her wrist—fast. She gasps. “Men fall off cliffs too.”
Her pulse slams under my fingers.
She stares up at me. “I don’t fall easy.”
“Good,” I growl. “I don’t catch easy.”
Her pulse kicks harder.
We're both lying.
She doesn’t move when I step toward her. Maybe she thinks I’m bluffing. Maybe she doesn’t understand that whatever thin thread of control I had is gone. Maybe she does understand—and wants this as bad as I do.
Either way, I’m done pretending.
I reach her. She lifts her chin like she always does when she’s about to smart off. My hand is on her before she can speak—fingers wrapping around the back of her neck, thumb sliding against her pulse. Christ. She’s warm. Too warm. I’ve been cold for five straight years and she walks in here and sets me on fire like it’s easy.
Her lips part. I feel her breath. Vanilla. Sugar. Temptation.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” I rasp.
“Pretty sure I do,” she whispers back.
“No,” I growl. “You’re poking something with teeth.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt. “Bite, then.”
Fuck.
She has no idea what she just asked for.
“You really want to keep playing with me?” I ask, my voice low, dangerous. “Because I won’t stop this time. You start something tonight—you better be damn sure you want to finish it.”
Her eyes flick over my face, searching. Testing. Then she nods—slow. Deliberate. Brave.
And that’s it.
I snap.
I crush my mouth to hers.
Not gentle. Not sweet. Not polite.
A collision.
Her gasp opens her up to me and my tongue slides against hers—hungry, claiming. She tastes like candy and chaos and the first real thing I’ve felt in years. She moans into my mouth, and I swear I feel it in my bones.
My hand fists in her hair, tilting her head back so I can go deeper. She moves with me—wild, greedy, kissing me back like she’s been starving too. Her nails rake down my chest through my shirt and I growl into her mouth, pushing her back until her spine hits the log wall.
“Thorne—” she breathes.
I’m already there, pinning her with my body, rocking her hips against mine just enough to feel the sweet little sound she makes when she realizes exactly how wrecked I am over her.
“Feel that?” I grind harder. “That’s what you did.”
