Page 28 of Connecting with the Mountain Man

I grin, wrapping my arms around his neck as he lifts me effortlessly, my legs locking tight around his waist. His hands grip the back of my thighs, rough and possessive, and I can feel every inch of him pressed against me.

But instead of the bed, he lowers me slowly until my feet touch the floor. I blink up at him, confused, breathless.

“Turn around,” he growls, voice dark and thick with desire. “Hands on the bed.”

I shiver, but I obey, turning to press my palms against the mattress, arching my back just enough to give him the view he wants.

“Fuck,” Silas groans behind me, his big hands sliding down my hips, spreading me wider. “Look at that. Your pussy’s already dripping for me.”

I bite my lip, rocking back slightly, desperate for him to touch me where I need it most. His fingers glide over my slick heat, teasing me until I’m trembling.

“You’re soaked,” he murmurs, his thumb circling my clit lazily. “Just from getting me off?”

I moan softly, pushing back against his hand. “I could come right now.”

“Not yet,” he growls, withdrawing his hand. I whimper at the loss, but before I can protest, I feel him line up behind me. One hard thrust and he buries himself to the hilt, filling me so deep I gasp his name.

“Silas—”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grits out, gripping my hips like he’s holding on for dear life. “You take me so good, baby.”

I drop my head, eyes fluttering shut as he pounds into me relentlessly, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoing through the cabin. I arch further, one hand leaving the bed to pinch my nipples, rolling the sensitive peaks between my fingers as his cock drives me higher.

“Harder,” I gasp, twisting the soft bud until pleasure shocks through me. “Silas—fuck—harder.”

A growl rips from his throat, and he slams into me with enough force to make the bed creak beneath my hands. His grip tightens, pulling me flush against him with each brutal thrust, and I can feel every ridge, every thick inch stretching me to the limit.

I’m spiraling, falling apart beneath him, and he knows it. One hand slips between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing tight circles that make my legs shake.

“You’re close,” he growls, his breath hot against the back of my neck. “I can feel it. Come for me, Eden. Now.”

I break apart with a cry, shuddering as the orgasm crashes over me, pulling him deeper as my walls clench around him. Silas doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow—he rides me through it, cursing under his breath as he chases his own release.

His body stiffens behind me, and with one final thrust, he groans my name, emptying himself inside me as his lips graze the curve of my shoulder.

For a long moment, we stay like that, tangled and breathless, the only sound in the room our ragged breathing. Then, Silas pulls me upright, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his cock still buried deep. His lips press against my ear, voice soft but firm.

“I need you here, Eden,” he whispers, rocking his hips gently, as if to remind me exactly how good we fit. “I need you in this cabin. With me. Every day.”

I blink, still lost in the haze of pleasure. “You can’t make me.” I tease to ruffle his feathers.

His teeth graze my neck, and I feel his smirk against my skin. “Yes, I can.”

I open my mouth to argue, but his hand grips my chin, tilting my face until his lips meet mine in a possessive kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I lean into him, my smile curling against his mouth. “I guess I’m moving in, then.”

Silas lifts me effortlessly, carrying me back to the bed without breaking our kiss. His lips move slowly over mine, softer now, like he’s savoring every second. When my back hits the mattress, he hovers above me, his gaze tracing my face as if memorizing it.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs, brushing my hair back from my face. His thumb glides over my cheek, and I nuzzle into his palm, heart swelling with the tenderness in his eyes. “You know that, right?”

I nod, threading my fingers through his hair. “I know.”

He presses his forehead to mine, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. His warmth surrounds me, and I melt into him, letting my head rest in the crook of his neck.

For a long moment, we stay like that—wrapped up in each other, listening to the crackling fire and the steady rhythm of his heart.

Then, I feel him shift. His arm stretches toward the bedside table, and I peek up just in time to see him pull open the drawer.

“What are you doing?” I ask softly, propping myself up on my elbows.

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