Page 9 of Protected By the Ranger

I whimper, my hips instinctively rising to meet him, but he holds back with a dark, knowing smile playing on his lips. Answering my silent plea, Gideon says, “Not yet, Ariel. I want to feel you squirm for me.”

My hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in, trying to pull him closer, but he maintains his torment.I can only moan, my body begging for more. The teasing becomes too much, the ache inside me too intense to bear.

“Please, Gideon,” I beg, my voice breaking. “I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken with something primal. He sheathes himself in a condom and with a moan, aligns himself and slowly begins to push inside. The initial stretch is exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain. I gasp, my body trembling as he fills me inch by inch, the sensation blinding like the sun.

Once he is fully inside me, he pauses, allowing me to adjust. The fullness is almost too much, but it feels so right, so perfect. Gideon starts to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending ripples of pleasure through my body. Every stroke is purposeful as if designed to drive me crazy.

He watches me, his gaze intense, as though he is studying my every reaction—every gasp and moan that escapes my lips. His hands roam my body, pinching my nipples to hard peaks, and then he leans down and begins sucking on them. I can feel the muscles in his back flex under my hands as I hold on to him for dear life.

“Oh my god,” I sob, when he pushes his hand between us and finds my clit. He rubs the nub which makes my walls tighten around his thirsty cock. He makes a tortured sound as he increases his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, more demanding.

“You are so fucking tight that I can barely move.” His voice is strained.

I can barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. All I can do is feel—feel the exquisite pleasure he’s giving me, the connection that binds us in this moment. My body responds to him instinctively, matching his rhythm, meeting his every thrust.

The tension inside me builds to a breaking point, every nerve ending alight with sensation. I’m so close, teetering on the edge of my climax. He hovers over me, his lips capturing mine in a possessive kiss, his tongue dangling with mine in a dance of raw passion.

Soon, I am clawing at him in my blinding need as I get closer. Gideon shifts his hands below me, grabbing my ass and adjusting me to an angle that makes his cock hit that sweet spot inside me. Pulling my hair harshly as he bites the curve of my neck, Gideon begins thrusting into me like a madman. “Come for me, Ariel. I want to feel you shatter around me,” he commands against my skin.

With those words, I scream his name as the climax rips through me. The coil inside me snaps and I’m thrown into a sea of bliss. I ride out the orgasm as he keeps up his lazy thrusts. Wave after wave of intense pleasure leaves me panting and trembling.

Gideon captures my moans with his lips as his pace becomes frantic, his control slipping as he chases his own release. His movements become desperate, driven by a need as intense as mine. I moan his name, and with a guttural groan escaping him, he finds his release.

Gideon collapses on top of me, his forehead resting against mine. The world blurs into a haze of pleasure. Our bodies are slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we come down from the high.

He shifts, rolling us onto our sides, and pulls me into his arms. His fingers trace idle patterns on my back. I nestle against his chest, the fast rhythm of his heartbeat soothing me.

Stroking my hair, Gideon’s voice breaks the silence, a soft murmur against my ear, “Ariel?”

“Mm?” I mumble.

“Are you alright?” His voice is a mix of concern and tenderness.

“Mm-hm,” I mumble, again. My scattered brain can no longer forms sentences but a smile tugs on my lips.

Gideon laughs quietly, his chest gently vibrating against my palm. He pulls me closer, holding me tightly, and lays a soft kiss over my eyes. Snuggled into his embrace, the weight of exhaustion pulls me under. The last thing I hear before drifting off is Gideon murmur, “Sleep well, baby. I’ll keep you safe.”

Chapter 4

The wind howls outside, breaking the quiet morning. Amidst the chaos, a rhythmic thwack cuts through, echoing steadily. I reach for Gideon but find only cool, empty sheets. His absence leaves a chill in the air.

I sit up, my body deliciously sore. The memory of Gideon’s intense gaze, the way he held me and ravished me, comes flooding back. Shaking those thoughts away, I take a deep breath to calm the desire simmering within me. My injured foot feels tender but manageable to walk.

I pull on the charcoal sweatshirt, inhaling his woodsy and masculine. My pulse quickens, but doubts creep in. What if he regrets everything that happened last night?

Hiding won’t help, I decide. If he regrets it, I’ll thank him and leave, though I feel safer here than anywhere else. But who am I kidding? It’s Gideon. His arms already feel like home.

With a blanket wrapped around me, I step into the cozy living room and glance at the myriad of wilderness photos on the wall.

The cabin feels different now—more lived-in, more his. A wave of sadness washes over me. I’d always dreamed of retiring here, surrounded by childhood memories. When I leave, I’ll lose a part of myself, but knowing it’s in Gideon’s hands brings comfort.

Wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, I head towards the source of the persistent thwacking sound—the garage. The noise grows louder as I approach, and when I open the door, the sight before me takes my breath away. Gideon stands there in a black, full-sleeved V-neck t-shirt and pants, chopping wood with powerful, precise swings.

The soft fabric of his clothes cling to his body, accentuating the defined muscles of his arms and chest. The cool wind flows through the slightly ajar garage door, carrying with it the scent of pine and sawdust. Despite the chill in the air, Gideon is sweating, a sheen of moisture glistening on his forehead. The drops catch the dim light and make his skin glow.

I watch him, mesmerized by the hypnotic display of strength and grace. His muscles ripple with each swing, a symphony of power and attention. Each crack of the ax against the wood sends a shiver down my spine, resonating deep in my core.

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