Page 26 of Lost in the Wild

“Just the one damsel, actually.” When I squeeze her, Evie laughs. And it’s somehow the longest walk of my life to get back to the cave, even though the whole journey must take less than twenty minutes all told, both of us chatting happily the whole way.

“Wait, the stick—”

Too late. The icy waterfall dunks us both as I step inside. Evie slaps at my chest, spluttering, and my grin makes my cheeks ache as I stride to the brown pelt by the fire.

“Oh, you jerk! I’m soaked to the skin!”

I know. Evie’s nipples are hard, pressing against the thin cotton of her tank top, and my mouth waters as I set her down.

“I’ll warm you up again, city girl.” With a bath, yes, but first—this.

She huffs in response, but she’s not mad really. She’s playing along, all while staring at me with hungry eyes.

I light a fire. For the first time in years, my hands shake and I drop a match. I’m too eager to get back to her; too worked up and trying to rush.

“Amateur hour,” Evie says.

Pausing, I turn and raise an eyebrow at her. She grins and wriggles on the pelt, and fuck, when did she peel that top off?

Because Evie’s bare from the waist up, her skin milky in the dim cave, and her pink nipples are hard little beads. As I watch, goosebumps raise on her chest and arms, and she’s squirming even worse now, biting her lip under my perusal.

The fire catches. Thank god.

Tossing the burned match onto the logs, I stand and tug my shirt off in one go, then fling it into the shadows. My boots go next, kicked off one by one.

Fuck ‘em. I’ll wear them in town, I’ll blend back into society for my future wife, but there will always be part of me that longs for the mountain breeze on my bare chest. That wants packed dirt and tree roots beneath my feet. And I won’t hide that side of me, not from her—and especially not when Evie giggles with delight and shimmies her leggings down.

We undress in a clumsy blur of limbs, pieces of clothing flung all around the cave. One of Evie’s hiking socks lands perilously near the fire, but neither of us care enough to stage a rescue.

Can’t do anything now except crash to my knees on the pelt, my legs throbbing from the hit of uneven stone, and drag my woman closer by the ankles.

“Rowan!”

Yeah. That’s what I want: my name on her lips. When I press her thighs wide, Evie spreads easily beneath my touch. Her hips tilt up, trying to draw my gaze down to the thatch of auburn curls between her legs.

She’s pink and swollen and slick down there, glistening in the firelight. Already so needy for me. It calls to some ancient instinct of mine to sink deep inside her and pound my troubles away until I forget the whole world.

But first…

Settling down on the stone ground, I don’t care about the chill that seeps immediately into my body. Don’t care about the lumps and pebbles beneath the pelt. All I care about is shouldering my way into position, tossing her ankles over my shoulders, and leaning down to breathe on Evie’s slit.

“Oh–oh!” Her back arches, body rolling on the pelt. Haven’t even touched her yet, and already she’s writhing. Evie peers down her body at me, both turned on and alarmed. “What are you…?”

“I’m going to taste you here.” A single finger taps on her pubic bone, and Evie twitches again, choking back a yelp. “I’m going to lick you and suck you and make a fucking mess of you, sweetheart. And when you come, I’ll feel every vibration on my tongue.”

Her breath quavers. Evie plucks at the brown fur pelt where the tufts tickle her hips, and she seems… shy.

“Okay. But you should know, I’ve never… Any of this, I haven’t…”

Her words trail off as I lean down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against her inner thigh. She’s never been touched this way? Never lain with a man before?

Red hot hunger and possessiveness spiral in my gut at that thought, clenching tight. My skin heats a few degrees, and the chill of the stone floor is long forgotten.

Christ, I could eat this girl alive. Could swallow her whole.

Because she waited for me.

And she’s mine.

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