Page 19 of Sheltered By the Mountain Man

Her little nails stab at my skin, sending a bolt of lightning down my spine. I could come. Without her even touching me. Fuck, that's never happened. But this isn't about my pleasure.

I feel her inner walls flutter and increase the speed of my hand. Pumping harder, pressing firmer against that small bud with each stroke. Once more. Twice.

Her thighs clamp down on my hand. Her body shivers, and she lets out a cry of pure pleasure. Watching Bella come is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I could do this every day. Iwantto do this every day. Wake up with Bella in my arms. Make her come on my hand, my tongue. My cock. Over and over until she begs me for mercy and we're both sated. I'd never get enough.

She smiles and opens her eyes. I love how they sparkle, as if what she sees makes her happy. As if I do.

I roll onto my back, bringing her with me and tuck her against my side. She's trusted me with her life and now her body. She shouldn't have. I'm not worthy of that trust. But damn if I don't want it—and her.

I think I'm falling in love with shy Bella Brown.

Chapter Eight

Mason

She places a kisson my chest, then raises back up onto her elbow to trace her fingers over my chest. “I love your body. Every muscle is like it's carved by a master.”

That tugs a smile to my lips. She's a romantic. I lean my head back on my pillow and close my eyes, letting my body cool down. It pulses with need for her, aching to sink into the heaven between her thighs.

Her touch feels good. Comforting even. She skims her hand over my pecs and up to my shoulder.

“What's this from?”

Too late, I realize she's tracing the scar there. It's still pink, but not as puckered.

“Is that a gunshot wound?” Bella sits up and leans over me to look closer. Her silky hair tickles my chest where dread has just taken root. “It doesn't look that old.”

I gust out a sigh. I've learned so much about her in the last day. What have I told her about myself? Almost nothing.

And now you have to start with the worst of it. Way to go, Walker.

“It wasn't that bad.” I wince. “The wound, I mean. The bullet went straight through.”

She looks at me like I've lost my mind. “Who shot you?”

“Someone kidnapping the woman and child I was supposed to be protecting.” I've thought about it every day for the last six months. What could I have done differently? I should have been more observant of the van instead of looking for the sedan I thought was following us. I had tunnel vision, and it almost cost Darcy and Gracie their lives.

“Supposed to be? What happened?”

“I was doing some work for Citadel Securities down in New Orleans. Just helping out a friend for a few days. They were tracking a gang suspected of trafficking and had some threats against family members. I was supposed to protect a nanny as she picked up a little girl from preschool. Shit went sideways, and they were kidnapped. Taken from me with almost no effort.”

She traces my scar. “This doesn't look like 'no effort'.”

I force myself to lay still. “I disabled two of the men and was running after the other two who had grabbed the girls when the driver opened fire. He tagged me in the shoulder, and I went down just long enough for them to escape.”

“There were five men. Were you the only one protecting them?”

“Yeah.”

“Did the girls... make it?”

“We rescued them several hours later. They never should have been there.”

“Mason, how can you have stopped the kidnapping when it was five against one?”

“I trained for that kind of shit for years in Special Forces. It never should have gone down like it did. The first two men should have been down in seconds. They caught me off guard when all I was supposed to do was protect those girls.”

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