Page 10 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

I can feel her climbing toward release, her inner walls fluttering around me, her breathing growing ragged. “Come for me, city girl.”

She does, spectacularly, her back arching off the ground as waves of pleasure wash through her. The sight of her in ecstasy, combined with the rhythmic pulsing of her body around mine, sends me hurtling toward my climax.

"Tessa," I warn, my control slipping.

"Inside," she gasps, still riding the aftershocks of her orgasm. "I want to feel you."

Her words break the last of my restraint. With a final thrust, I bury myself deep within her, my release hitting me with an intensity that whites out my vision. Pleasure courses through me in endless waves as I empty myself inside her, pumping my seed deep inside of her until I’m completely drained.

For long moments afterward, we remain joined, our bodies trembling with aftershocks, our breathing gradually slowing. I'm careful not to crush her beneath my weight, but she holds me tight when I try to move away.

"Not yet," she whispers, and I understand her reluctance to break this connection.

Eventually, our bodies separate naturally, and I gather her against my side, her head nestling perfectly into the crook of my shoulder. Despite the hard stone beneath us, I've never felt more comfortable, more at peace.

"Are you cold?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her forehead, tasting the salt of her skin.

Tessa shakes her head, nestling closer, one leg thrown possessively over mine. "Not anymore."

She settles against me, and I pull her closer, marveling at how natural it feels. Tomorrow, the storm will clear. Tomorrow, we'll make our way down the mountain. Tomorrow, reality will intrude with all its complications and questions.

As her breathing deepens in her sleep, I press one more kiss to her hair and allow myself to follow her into dreams—something I haven't done in years. For once, I don't fight against vulnerability or connection. For once, I simply let myself be happy.

five

Tessa

Iwaketowarmthpressed against my back, a heavy arm over my waist. Disorientation clouds my mind before it all rushes back: the storm, the cave, Corbin... last night.

Sunlight filters through the cave entrance, painting the stone walls golden. The steady rain has softened to a drizzle. I shift slightly, feeling Corbin stir behind me.

"Morning," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. He withdraws his arm, creating space between us that wasn't there moments ago.

I turn to face him, oddly shy. "Morning," I reply, searching his face for regret. His expression is guarded, but he doesn’t seem upset.

"Storm's letting up," he says, nodding toward the entrance. "We should check outside."

His practicality grounds me. Whatever happened between us, we're still stranded on a mountain. I appreciate that he doesn't try to over-analyze what happened, at least not yet.

We dress in silence. Every movement feels charged—his fingers brushing mine as he hands me my shirt, his eyes following me as I gather my belongings.

Outside, the world is transformed. The mountain air smells fresh, the forest dripping with rainwater that catches light like tiny prisms. Patches of blue peek between receding clouds.

"Beautiful," I breathe, taking in the valley below, mist hovering over treetops.”Can we start making our way down?" I ask, even though I know I don’t want to leave.

Much to my relief, he shakes his head as he surveys the terrain. "Not yet. Ground's unstable. Landslides are an even greater risk after this much rain." He points to darkening clouds on the horizon. "And that's another system moving in. We've got a few hours at most."

Disappointment mingles with a secret thrill at the thought of another night with him. "So we're still stuck."

Corbin chuckles. “Welcome to the rainy season, city girl. For now. The Search and Rescue crews should be out once it’s safe for the choppers." He shoulders his pack. "But we can use this time. Come on."

He leads me along a narrow path, skirting the mountainside. I follow carefully, noticing how he occasionally glances back, offering his hand at steeper sections. His giant hands are warm and calloused, making me remember how good they felt on my body.

"Where are we going?" I ask after at least fifteen minutes of hiking.

"You need to learn a few things if you're going to spend time in these mountains," he says, matter-of-factly. "First lesson: finding water." He shows me how to identify signs of a freshwater spring. When he locates a tiny trickle between rocks, the satisfaction on his face makes me smile.

"It's like you speak the mountain's language," I say, watching him collect the water in his special filtered water bottles.

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