Page 56 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
His eyes lock on mine, and the edges of his control fray. “You already have me,” he says. “You’ve had me since the second you walked into my world and blew it apart.”
He stands and pulls me flush against him. His body is pure power, a wall of heat and need. His mouth crashes back into mine, his kiss messy and hungry now.Real. Full of everything neither of us said until now.
He carries me to the bearskin rug in front of the fire. Flames paint him in gold and shadow. He braces over me, his breath shaking just once. Just enough for me to know that he’s as affected as I am.
Then I see it—the bare hint of vulnerability behind the savage hunger.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters.
“How?”
“Like you see everything.”
I cradle his jaw. “Then stop hiding.”
He stares for a beat.
Then he breaks.
Chapter 12
Thorne
Her breath is still ragged from that first kiss—if you can even call it that. It wasn’t a kiss. It was afuckingdeclaration. Teeth. Tongue. Claim. It shattered whatever line we pretended existed between us.
I carry her closer to the fire in my room, her chest rising and falling, lips swollen from me. Costume still on—what’s left of it. Witch dress in shreds, thigh-high stockings slipping down, glitter smeared across her neck. My handprint still marks her hip. Her eyes are pure challenge.
“Say it,” she whispers.
“No.”
Her chin tilts, that stubborn spark burning bright even now. “Then you don’t get me.”
The fire behind her casts light over my shoulders, turning me into something carved out of night. I drop her to her feet and cage her against the old stone hearth, my fingers sliding up her arms just to feel her tremble. “I already have you.”
“You’re not listening,” she says, voice shaky but sharp. “If you want me—really want me—you’ll say it.”
My jaw is tight. My pulse is violent. I hate how exposed she makes me. I hate how truth sits on the tip of my tongue when she’s near. I hate that I’m going to give it to her anyway.
Because I can’t lose her. Not after this.
“I want,” I grit out, “everything.”
“Everything,” she repeats, softer now.
“Yes,” I rasp, threading a hand into her hair and forcing her to look at me. “Every word. Every secret. Every laugh. Every scream. Every night you think you’re alone. Every morning you don’t want to get out of bed. Every scar. Every storm. Every damn piece of you, Aspen—I want everything.”
She stares at me like she’s never seen me before.
Then she smiles.
Not the sharp, defensive smile she uses as armor—but something softer. Real. Devastating. For a second, I can’t breathe.
“Good,” she whispers, stepping closer until her body is pressed to mine, warm and electric. “Because I want everything too.”
My control snaps.
I grip the laces at the back of her dress and drag the costume open, watching the creamy white fabric fall away from smooth skin. Her breath catches when my fingertips trace down her spine. She isn’t wearing a bra. Of course she isn’t. No panties either.
