Page 14 of Claimed By the Mountain Man

“About that.” He pulled me closer. “I’m thinking maybe Ethan wasn’t completely wrong.”

“About setting you up with a mail-order bride?” A flare of jealousy shot through me. If Logan had set up his own profile. If some other woman had matched with him.

“About me needing someone.” He placed his hands on my hips. “Specifically, about me needing you.” Logan’s expression softened as he looked down at me, his gaze dark and serious. “I love you, Samantha. I think I have since the moment I openedmy front door, finding you standing there, turning my whole world upside down with your city girl charm and those curves that drive me crazy. But, I have to be honest. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be what you need, but I want to try. I want you to stay. I don’t care if it scares the hell out of me—I want you here.”

His words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. For a second, I thought I might cry. But then I saw the look in his eyes—raw, vulnerable, and so honest—and the ache in my chest melted into something warmer, something brighter.

Before I could say anything else, his arms wrapped completely around me, pulling me against his chest. His grip was firm, his body warm and solid, and I felt my doubts fade away.

“You mean something to me,” he murmured against my hair. “More than I know how to say.”

I laughed softly, the sound muffled against his chest. “You’re saying it just fine.”

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands cupping my face. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said again, his voice steady this time. “Stay. With me. Be my mountain mail-order bride.”

The vulnerability in his eyes, the sheer force of his presence, made my knees weak. I smiled, leaning into his touch. “I’ll stay.”

“Good.” His expression was still dark, but there was no denying the look in his eyes. He wanted me. Wanted me to stay.

I rose on my toes and kissed the underside of his stubbled jaw. “Take me to bed, Logan.”

Logan carried me to the bedroom, my heart racing with anticipation. Our first time together had been incredible, but this felt different—deeper, more meaningful now that we’d admitted our feelings. He laid me on the bed with a gentlenessthat made my chest ache, his eyes burning as he looked down at me, making me shiver.

“Cold?”

“No.” I reached for him, needing to feel his skin against mine. “But I could use some warming up anyway.”

He stripped off his shirt, and my breath caught in my throat. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the sight of him—all hard muscle and tanned skin, a testament to his outdoor lifestyle. When he joined me on the bed, I ran my hands over his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath my palm. The steady thump matched my own racing pulse.

“I love you,” I whispered, because I could, because the words felt right on my tongue. Because they were true.

His kiss started gentle, a contrast to his usual intensity that made me melt. His hands found the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head before claiming my mouth again in a kiss that left me gasping for air.

“Mine,” he growled against my neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against my sensitive skin. His hands roamed my curves with a reverence that made me feel beautiful. He stripped me of my bra. “Every gorgeous inch of you.”

“Yours,” I agreed, my voice breaking on a moan as his mouth found my breast. “Always yours.” I tangled my fingers in his hair as he sucked my nipple deep into his mouth, his other hand kneading my ripe flesh.

“Logan, please.” The sensations were overwhelming. Each touch, each kiss felt magnified, more intense than our first time. Maybe because now, I knew this wasn’t just physical—this was everything.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He nipped at the curve of my hip as he removed my pants and panties. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I breathed, lifting my hips to help him. “All of you.”

Once he had me bare, he stood up to shed his clothes. I couldn’t help but stare. My mountain man was magnificent, all raw power and masculine beauty. All mine.

“You know this naked lumberjack look is working for you.”

“Minx.” I loved seeing that slight smile of his, but then I couldn’t think of anything as he lowered himself back on top of me. The weight of his body on mine was better than a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. I bent my leg, wrapping my leg around his hip. His large hand covered my thigh, holding me to him.

I pulled him down for a kiss that quickly turned desperate. Then his hands and lips were everywhere, stroking, teasing, learning my body all over again. When his fingers found my center, I was already embarrassingly wet for him.

“So ready for me,” he murmured, sliding one thick finger inside me. I gasped at the intrusion, my body clenching around him. When he added a second finger, the stretch made me whimper. His thumb circled my clit as his fingers moved inside me, curling upwards.

“Logan, please.” I didn’t care that I sounded desperate. That I was begging him to take me. “I need you inside me.”

He positioned himself between my thighs, the broad head of his cock pressing against my entrance. “Look at me,” he commanded softly. When I met his gaze, he pushed inside me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size.

The stretch was exquisite—a delicious burn that had me moaning his name. He felt even bigger, filling me so completely I could barely breathe. When he was fully seated, he pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you,” he whispered.

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