Page 10 of His Wild Desire

His other hand cups my breast, pinching and teasing my nipple in a way that walks that delicate line between pain and pleasure. I can feel myself getting wetter, my body readying itself for the release that's just within reach.

"Caleb!" I keen his name like a broken prayer, my fingers fisting in those chestnut locks as he works me higher with every thrust and swirl of his thumb. "Oh god, please..."

He silences me with a searing kiss, swallowing every breathless whimper and plea tumbling from my lips. The wet heat of his mouth moves in perfect counterpoint with the relentless stroking of his hand until I'm writhing against him, mindless in my pursuit of that blinding peak.

"That's it, darlin'," he rasps against my lips. "Let go. Come for me."

His gravelly command is my undoing.

With one final flick of his fingers, the wave crashes, and I'm tumbling, tumbling, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. His fingers work me through each shattering pulse, his mouth hot and demanding on mine.

When the last tremors finally ebb, I slump against him in a boneless, sated heap, my chest heaving as I fight to catch my breath. Caleb nuzzles my sweat-slicked temple, pressing a reverent kiss there as he helps to pull my pants back into place.

"Caleb," I finally manage to rasp out, still delirious in the aftermath, "I..."

"Shhh." His low rumble silences me before I can find the words. Those piercing blue eyes are soft as they gaze into mine. "You don't gotta say nothin', Emma. Not now."

I give a faint nod, still too dazed to protest as he gathers me into his arms and rises with that effortless, masculine grace. His solid heat surrounds me, that rich, earthy musk wrapping around me as he carries me back along the winding trail.

The rhythmic sway of his stride soon lulls me into a languid, contented silence. My cheek pillows against the broad expanse of his chest, rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. I feel safe here in the cradle of his arms. Cherished and adored in a way I've never allowed myself to experience.

As the secluded cabin finally comes into view, a tiny, unbidden smile curves my lips.

Whatever this is between Caleb and me, I know one thing for certain—I have no intention of letting it go anytime soon.

Chapter 5

Caleb

Istoke the crackling fire with a metal poker, watching the flames flicker and dance in the dimly lit cabin. The scent of wood smoke hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the lingering traces of pine and earth still clinging to my skin.

Just the memory of Emma's soft curves pressed against me, her nails raking through my hair, is enough to have desire stirring low in my gut once more. I shift on the worn leather couch, adjusting the snug denim over my growing arousal with a soft grunt.

I should be terrified at how quickly she's burrowed under my skin. At how desperately I want—no, need—to claim her as mine in the most elemental way possible. A woman like her, with her polished city ways and endless ambition, has no place in the simple, rugged life I've carved out for myself. She's only here temporarily before inevitably returning to the world where she belongs.

So why can't I seem to summon even an ounce of resistance against the connection rapidly taking root between us?

The soft creak of the floor has me glancing up, and any attempts at rational thought come skidding to a halt. Emma emerges from the bathroom, a vision that damn near steals the breath from my lungs.

She's swimming in one of my faded flannel shirts, its tails brushing her thighs, leaving those long legs deliciously bare. Loose tendrils of chestnut hair frame her face, and her green eyes are wide and luminous in the firelight, thick lashes fanning over high cheekbones.

She's so beautiful it damn near hurts to look at her. But I can't seem to tear my gaze away, drinking in every soft curve and delicate angle like a parched man at an oasis.

Emma catches me staring, and a slow, coy smile curves those full lips. "See something you like, hoss?"

The teasing lilt in her voice simultaneously inflames me and loosens the knot of tension gripping my chest. Instead of answering, I push to my feet, grab the bottle of Woodford Reserve from beside the couch, and hold it up with an arched brow.

"Thirsty?"

At her eager nod, I pour a generous splash into each of the tin mugs I've set out and hold one out to her. Emma accepts it with a murmur of thanks, sinking down onto the opposite end of the worn couch with a contented sigh.

I take a sip of the smoky bourbon, letting the slow burn trickle down my throat before joining her on the soft leather. We sit in comfortable silence for a few long beats, the occasional creak of the cabin's aged beams mingling with the snap and crackle of the dancing flames.

"This is nice," Emma finally murmurs, her gaze trained on the mesmerizing flicker of orange light. "Peaceful." She takes another sip, then shoots me a wry glance over the rim of her mug. "Though I suppose you'd hardly consider a near bear mauling 'peaceful.'"

I roll my eyes toward the shadowed ceiling. "What the hell were you doing wandering around out there alone anyway?" I ask. "Especially with that busted ankle."

Emma shrugs one shoulder, gaze dropping to the amber liquid swirling in her tin mug. "I don't know, I just... I was going stir-crazy, I guess. Sitting around that cabin with nothing to do except overthink my entire existence."

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