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“It’s too complicated, right?” I release a little huff of a laugh that doesn’t have any humor in it. I’m so sick of that answer, of being here in this limbo, of this push and pull between us. It shouldn’t be complicated. “I just want you.”
“Fuck.”
He lowers his forehead to mine and presses it there as he takes several long, deep breaths, like he’s searching for something—the answer to a question, composure he lost long ago, the willpower to get up and walk away.
Maybe all of those.
And when he draws his head back, the change in his gaze makes my pussy throb, need pooling heavy between my legs.
It’s shifted from uncertain to determined.
From scared to ravenous.
This is the man who kissed me in the library the other night.
The man who saved me in those woods.
Strong, dangerous, capable of things I probably can’t even imagine.
But instead of turning me away, it only turns me on more, and I twist in his hold to face him fully. His hand falls away from my face, and I take his between my palms, his beard scraping them as I press my mouth to his and end any further debate he may have wanted to have about the righteousness of our desire.
Weston groans against my lips, and I arch my hips to meet his cock trapped between our bodies. He releases a feral growl and grips my ass, dragging me over to straddle him as he rolls onto his back.
My still-damp hair falls around me as I stare down at him. Spread out beneath me in this massive bed, my very own lumberjack madman, my very own beast.
One of his hands tightens on my hip while the other reaches up to brush wet strands away from my face. “Take what you want, Callista. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”
It’s a promise I’m not sure he can keep.
But I am not willing to walk away.
Not now.
Because what I said to him is true.
It might be insanity, but here in this bed with him, I feel safer than I ever did at the bottom of this mountain before my life got upended. I may have been content in my cozy little apartment and with my job. Things might have seemed good. But the moment that axe appeared, it showed how all of that was merely a mirage.
None of us are truly in control of our lives.
Outside forces intervene at inopportune times to rip away what we hold sacred and threaten what we love.
Not here, though.
This is his mountain.
His bed.
I’m his, regardless of how much he tries to deny it.
It’s there in his searing gaze as he stares up at me, silvery-white hair against the dark, silky pillowcase.
I shift up, gliding my already wet pussy along his length, and he hisses, his fingers digging into my hips even harder. Muscles in his neck strain, as if he’s trying to temper the beast inside him that wants so badly to take control.
Soaking him with my heat, I roll my hips so his cock rubs along my clit.
His jaw clenches.
I keep moving over him, working both of us up until a hum vibrates through my entire body. The head of his cock catches inside me, and a low groan slips from his lips. Dropping my head back, I gasp at the sensation, clenching around him and seeking to be completely filled.
