Page 57 of Possessed By the Mountain Man
That wicked woman walked into the costume party bare under her dress.
“For attention?” I murmur darkly against her ear. “From who?”
“From you,” she admits without hesitation.
Something primal growls loose in my chest. Mine.
“You walked around all night like this?” I slide a hand around to her stomach, pulling her hard against me.
She nods, smug. “Didn’t realize what it would do to you?”
I lean down, drag my mouth along her throat. “You knew exactly what it would do to me.”
A shiver rolls over her. “Maybe.”
I tear the rest of her costume away, letting it fall to the floor at her feet. She stands naked in front of me, wearing nothing but firelight and attitude.
“Look at you,” I say hoarsely. “Chaos wrapped in silky soft skin.”
“And you’re still here,” she says, chin lifting with that wild defiance I can never resist.
“Wrong,” I say, stepping back to drink her in. “I’m not just here. I’m not leaving.”
Her chest rises sharply. I watch her—every reaction, every flicker of vulnerability she tries to hide. Then I let her see the truth burning through me.
“You don’t run from the thing you were made for,” I tell her. “You claim it.”
Her eyes flare hot.
Slowly, I reach for my shirt—what’s left of it—and peel it off, dropping it to the floor. Her gaze drags over me, unapologetic. Hungry. She steps forward, palms skimming my chest like she’s mapping me.
Her voice is a whisper. “Touch me.”
Not a plea. A demand.
I wrap an arm around her waist and lift her effortlessly, her legs circling my hips like instinct. She gasps, clutching my shoulders. Her body is warm silk, nothing but temptation, and I swear my blood goes molten from the feel of her.
She leans in and bites my jaw—a sharp, wet drag of teeth that wakes every want I’ve held back since she walked into my life.
“You think you invented trouble,” I growl against her mouth, “but I was born in it.”
“Show me,” she breathes.
And I do.
I pin her to the stacked log wall beside the fire, heat licking over us in a halo of gold. I kiss her hard, dragging her bottom lip between my teeth until she moans and tries to take control again, nipping back, pushing back, fighting for dominance she’ll never get.
Because she belongs under me.
Claimed by me.
Ruined by me.
Her hands rake into my hair as my mouth devours hers, tongues colliding, breath hot and desperate. Every time she arches against me, I lose another piece of my sanity.
I don’t remember moving to the rug. Don’t remember lowering her down. I only know she’s looking up at me now like she wants to swallow me whole.
I kneel over her and slide a hand down the curve of her thigh, spreading her legs wide so she can’t hide. Her chest rises hard. Her pupils blow wide.
