Page 21 of Christmas With The Broken Mountain Man
"Mason," she gasps as my fingers circle her clit.
"Let go," I encourage her again. "You're safe with me."
Something in my words reaches her. I see the moment the last of her walls crumble. She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her forehead to mine as she moves with newfound abandon.
"That's it," I murmur against her lips. "Take what you need."
"I need you," she confesses, the words spilling out as if she can't contain them. "All of you."
I capture her lips in a kiss that tells her everything I'm not ready to say aloud—that I'm falling for her, that she's become essential to me in ways I never thought possible, that I'd do anything to keep her safe and happy.
When she comes this time, it's with her eyes open, locked on mine, a level of intimacy I've never experienced before. The sight of her falling apart in my arms pushes me over the edge. I follow her into bliss, holding her tight against me as waves of pleasure crash over us both.
Afterward, we lie tangled together, her head on my chest, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her back. I've never felt so content, so perfectly at peace.
"Thank you," she whispers against my skin.
I tilt her chin up, needing to see her face. "For what?"
"For making me feel..." She searches for the right words. "Safe. Beautiful. Worthy."
"You are all those things," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "And so much more."
She settles back against me with a contented sigh. "I didn't know it could be like this."
"Like what?"
"So connected. Like it's not just bodies, but..." She trails off.
"Souls," I finish for her. Because that's what it felt like—a joining of more than just physical forms.
She nods, pressing a kiss over my heart. "Exactly."
As she drifts toward sleep in my arms, I make a silent vow. I'll spend the rest of my life, if she'll let me, showing her exactly how precious she is. How worthy of love, of pleasure, of safety. How completely she's captivated me in just these few short days.
Because somehow, in the space of less than a week, this woman has become everything to me. And I'm beginning to hope that I'm becoming the same to her.
CHAPTER SIX
DESTINY
Iwake to the unfamiliar weight of an arm draped across my waist and the steady rhythm of Mason's breathing against my neck. Sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. For a moment, I simply exist in this perfect bubble, warm, safe, and utterly content.
Last night changed everything. What started as a desperate escape plan has transformed into something I never expected to find, especially not so soon after Greg. Something that feels dangerously like falling in love.
I trace the veins on Mason's forearm where it rests against my stomach. His skin is warm, slightly rough with a dusting of dark hair. I've memorized these arms now, how they feel wrapped around me, how they trembled with restraint as he entered me, how they held me through each shuddering climax.
"You're thinking too loud," he murmurs against my hair, his voice morning-rough in a way that sends delicious shivers down my spine.
"Sorry." I roll to face him, taking in the sight of sleep-tousled hair and stubbled jaw. He looks younger like this, less guarded.
"Don't apologize." He props himself up on one elbow. "Just tell me what's going on in that beautiful head."
The simple request, spoken with such genuine interest, catches me off guard. Greg never cared about my thoughts unless they served his purposes.
"I'm thinking this is crazy." I place my palm against Mason's chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my fingers. "Three days ago, I showed up on your doorstep with a black eye and a suitcase. Now we're in bed together."
"Regrets?" His blue eyes search mine, prepared for rejection but hoping against it.
