Page 63 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
“For what?”
“For you to stop lying to yourself.”
My pulse jolts. “I wasn’t lying.”
His hand slides up, fingers curling around the soft column of my throat—not squeezing, just holding. Claiming. “You’ve been lying since the second you walked into my life.”
“I have not.”
“You have,” he growls. “You act like this is a game. Like you’re here for a stupid Halloween contest. Like this—” his thumb strokes the tendon of my throat, making me shiver—“didn’t mean anything, when I know damn well it did.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Stop.”
“I won’t.” His voice digs deeper. “I won’t let you hide behind glitter and sarcasm and fake witch curses. You want real? Here it fucking is, witch. I want you. In my bed. In my life. For however long you’ll stay.”
My breath breaks. “Don’t?—”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t say things like that unless you mean them.”
His hand turns my chin until I have no choice but to face him.
Glacial green eyes. Firelight. Truth.
“I don’t waste words,” he says. “If I say something, it’s because it’s carved into my bones.”
I ache. God, I ache everywhere. I want to kiss him so badly it hurts—but fear licks at me again.
Fear of losing this. Fear of wanting too much.
“You’ll get tired of me,” I whisper. “Everyone does eventually.”
He inhales, slow and lethal. “Look at me. Do I look temporary to you?”
My laugh comes out painful. “You look like the type to get bored when things get complicated.”
“You,” he growls, pulling me on top of him until I’m straddling his hips, “are never boring.”
His hand slides up my spine and buries into my hair. “You’re chaos. You’re wild. You’re alive. And I’ve never wanted anything more.”
Everything inside me goes silent.
Then loud.
I stare down at him. This brutal, infuriating man who guarded his heart behind stone and iron. This man who made me feel seen. Wanted. Matched.
“Thorne…”
“Say it,” he rasps. “Say you feel it too.”
My mouth trembles. “I do.”
He nods once, jaw tense. “Then stop fighting it.”
My lips part. “I’m not good with?—”
“Trust?” he finishes for me. “Neither am I.”
