Page 14 of Mistletoe Cowboy
He chuckles. “That a bad thing?”
“Don’t know.” My bottom lip trembles.
“I promise to go at your pace, Sassy. You’ve never minced words with me before, so don’t start now.”
I chuckle. “No, apart from the mistletoe kiss, I suppose I haven’t.”
“Give me your mouth again,” he demands, pulling me closer. “You’re my new favorite flavor.”
We move as one in the quiet of the cabin, hands exploring, goosebumped flesh and trembling hands, learning each other like worship. My legs wrap around his waist as he flips me onto my back, faces inches apart as he slides into me slowly, incrementally, taking his time.
It’s too much, I grimace, panic seizing my brain. He reads my face, pulling back then easing forward again, crooning words of comfort and love like I’m a wild Mustang he’s gentling. I relax around him, trusting, breathing, learning how to live in the space of what we both want.
Our breaths sync, hearts harmonizing as we find a rhythm that works. Each time he draws back, gives me a momentaryreprieve, he thrusts a little harder, a little deeper, laying claim. My fingernails dig into his back, breath shuddering as I ride the line between pleasure and pain.
My hands descend to his round, tight ass, pressing him deeper, though my eyes sting, and I bite my bottom lip.
“Need more of you, Silas. All of you,” I groan as our bodies collide, growing together into one thing bigger than both of us.
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, eyes appraising my face.
“I want you to wreck me,” I reply, chin darting up in challenge.
“Stubborn as always,” he says with a chuckle, hips digging deeper, pain unfurling around pleasure until I’m arching my hips up into him, taking everything he has to give.
“God, you feel so good, Sage. Like where I was always meant to be.”
“And you … Silas, your cock … yes,” I moan, taking and receiving in equal measure.
I cry out as he moves more confidently. Then stops, turning his head to the side for a moment, closing his eyes, and concentrating before thrusting again. His hand slides between us, circling my clit.
I float, fly away, breath coming faster, heart a timpani staccato. Eyes lock, all heat and tenderness. We come as one, bodies exploding into each other. Heat, pain, pleasure. All wrapped together in the dark need of decades.
When the storm finally quiets, we lie tangled in the hush, every secret stripped bare. One arm braces his weight, so he doesn’t crush me. His finger traces my jawline, eyes washing reverently over me.
“Never thought I could love you more than I already do, Sage. But you’re my everything.”
“And you’re mine,” I whisper, kissing his stubbled cheek.
A long silence follows, our breaths slowing. The heater kicks in again, a low whine. As the storm finally quiets, I don’t know where the sound of the wind ends and the rhythm of him begins.
Silas shifts, grabs his phone, eyeing the screen for a moment. “Still no signal,” he says. “Don’t want Ralph and the crew risking their necks on account of us.”
I nod, realizing how fragile the quiet of this little world we’ve created together really is. I don’t know if it’s ready to bear the weight of outside pressure yet, of what others will say and do to stop us.
“What’s that look for?” he asks, the creases deepening in his forehead.
“Just don’t want to deal with Walter, Ralph, the hands, anybody else right now. I want you all to myself. Is that selfish?”
“No.” But his voice sounds raw. “If you’re thinking you can hide this now, though, Sage. Well, I won’t let you. You’re mine, condemnation or not. I want the world to know it, and I won’t accept any less. Can’t ever live that half-life without you again.”
“Me neither, Silas.”
“Good, then.” His chest rumbles.
For the first time in eight years, I’m not cold.
My hands slide over his body, fingers tracing hard planes of muscle. I murmur, “You’re so different now.”
