Page 38 of Shadow of Misty Mountain

I step forward, close enough to catch the scent of her skin—citrus mingled with the lingering trace of her shower soap. I reach for her shirt, letting my fingers tease along the hem before smoothly pulling it over her head. Her arms rise instinctively—there’s no resistance.

“You’re beautiful,” I confess quietly, a gentleness in my tone that betrays my intent. “I never imagined I’d want this, not like this, not ever—until you walked in and upended every plan I had.”

She blinks, torn between smiling and crying.

“Travis…” she begins.

“Lie down,” I command in a steadier tone.

She complies, settling onto the bed as though it were second nature. I kneel beside her and press a soft kiss to her stomach, just above her navel. Her gasp strikes me like a physical blow.

She lifts her head to watch me, and as I meet her eyes, my fingers begin to part her thighs. Her breath catches sharply as I lower myself between her legs and let my tongue explore her, tasting her warmth and surrender. I know I won’t stop—not until I’ve unraveled every piece of the composure she once clung to.

She writhes beneath me, her hips undulating. My hands grip her thighs firmly, holding her steady. She tries to speak, but I cut her off.

"Don’t speak," I command, my hand resting across her stomach. "Just feel."

Her moan starts soft, then deepens as I work her with slow, circular motions of my mouth followed by firmer strokes. I can feel she’s nearly there; her body arches and her fingers dig into the sheets.

"Travis," she gasps, her breath ragged and her voice trembling.

"Let go," I insist. "Give it to me."

I’m nearly overwhelmed watching her come undone. Her back arches further, her thighs tremble, and when she finally shatters, it’s with my name on her lips—sharp, desperate, real. I stay with her, holding her close, licking her until she can take no more. Her trembling hands find their way to my shoulders.

I crawl up her body and kiss her as though staking a claim—she wraps around me like we’re already one. Her hand slips between us and encircles me, making my jaw tighten.

"Are you sure?" I rasp, needing to hear her say it—not because I doubt, but because I want it carved in stone between us.

"More than sure," she whispers. "I want all of you."

No further words are necessary.

I move into her slowly, and deliberately, keeping her gaze locked on mine. When her eyes flutter closed, I pause.

"Look at me," I growl.

She obeys, her eyes wide open and unguarded. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I begin to move.

Deep. Controlled. I want her to feel every inch, every thrust. She meets me stroke for stroke, and it’s not just physical—it’s a connection I never imagined I’d feel.

The bed creaks, her breath hitches, and I drive deeper, each movement grinding against her. She moans, clutching my back, her nails biting into my skin.

"Travis," she cries as her orgasm closes in on her.

"Come with me," I growl. "Give it to me."

She spirals, gasping and crying my name as she shatters once more, and I follow with my release, a burst that hits me like a punch to the gut. I bury myself deep, my hips jerking with the force of it, groaning against her mouth.

When it’s finally over, I collapse beside her, pulling her into my arms. Her skin is warm, her breath still unsteady.

I press a kiss to her temple. "I love you."

She shifts closer. "I love you too."

And in that moment, everything I thought I had under control slips through my fingers.

Because now I know—I’d burn down the world to keep her safe.

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