Page 17 of Stranded with the Mountain Man

In answer, I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him closer."Completely sure."

He presses forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size.The stretch is exquisite, a burning fullness that borders on too much and not enough simultaneously.When he's fully seated, we both pause, breathing heavy, foreheads pressed together.

"Okay?" he asks, concern edging through the desire in his voice.

"Perfect," I assure him, shifting my hips experimentally."Move, Ross. Please."

He begins with measured thrusts, maintaining careful control even as his muscles tremble with the effort.I recognize the restraint for the protection, consideration, and affection it is wrapped in physical form.

But I don't want his control.I want all of him, raw and unfiltered.

I run my nails down his back, nipping at his lowerlip."I won't break," I whisper against hismouth."Letgo."

Something snaps in hisexpression.His next thrust comes harder, deeper, drawing a cry of pleasure from mythroat.He sets a new rhythm, still mindful but with an edge of the wildness I'd beenseeking.

"Like that?" he growls, his hand sliding beneath me to lift my hips, changing theangle.

"Yes," I gasp as he hits a spot that makes sparks dance behind myeyelids."God,yes."

He drives into me with increasing urgency, his breathing ragged against myneck.Every thrust pushes me higher, the tension building to an almost unbearablepeak.When his hand slips between us, thumb finding my center, I shatter with a cry of hisname.

The pleasure radiates through me in waves, my inner muscles clenching aroundhim.He groans, his rhythm falteringas he follows me over the edge, his release pulsing within me as his body shudders abovemine.

For several heartbeats, we stay locked together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked skin pressedtight.Then he carefully shifts his weight, rolling to the side and bringing me with him so I'm nestled against hischest.

The silence that follows isn't awkward, but filled with unspokenemotion.His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I listen to his heartbeat gradually slow beneath myear.

"That was..." I search for words adequate to describe what justhappened.

"Yeah," he agrees, pressing a kiss to mytemple."Itwas."

Such a simple exchange, yet somehow it encompasseseverything.The years apart, the connection rediscovered, the questions still unanswered about what comesnext.

"Stay," he murmurs as my eyes grow heavy, his arm tightening aroundme."Sleep heretonight."

The request is about more than just where I spend the next few hours, and we both knowit.It's an invitation to cross another line, to acknowledge that what's happening between us isn't just physical release ornostalgia.

"Okay," I whisper, nestlingcloser.

As sleep claims me, I realize I haven't felt this content, this right, in twelveyears.Whatever complications tomorrow brings, whatever choices we still face, this moment is perfect in itssimplicity.

I belong here, in Rosco's arms, in ways I've denied for toolong.

Even if it's just fortonight.

Chapter

Four

ROSCO

I'm up before dawn, my body still keeping MC hours despite years away from the club.Sleep didn't come easy last night, not Deena's warm body pressed against mine and the echo of promises neither of us should be making.

Last night was a mistake. A momentary weakness.Something that can't happen again.

I repeat these thoughts as I silently pull on boots and a jacket, careful not to wake the woman sleeping down the hall.Bear lifts his head from his bed by the dying embers of last night's fire, watching me with knowing eyes.

"Stay," I whisper, and he settles back down with a soft huff.

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