Page 12 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

"I want to," I say simply, my hands already working on his belt. "Let me."

The heated look that crosses his face emboldens me further. My fingers tremble slightly as I undo his jeans. When I finally free him, I can't help the small gasp that escapes my lips. He's impressively endowed, thick, and hard, and the sight of his incredible cock sends fiery heat to my core.

"You're amazing," I whisper, looking up to find his eyes dark with wanting, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. I’ve never seen a cock as thick and powerful as his before. It pulses in my hand, the head already swollen and glistening.

"Tessa," he groans, his voice strained as my fingers explore his length. His hand comes to rest lightly on my hair, not guiding, just connecting.

I take my time, savoring the feeling of him against my palm before leaning forward to taste him. His sharp intake of breath encourages me, and I grow bolder, taking him deeper, letting my tongue trace patterns that make his thighs tense beneath my hands.

"God, Tessa," he murmurs, his fingers threading gently through my hair. The tenderness of the gesture contrasts with the raw passion of the moment, and something in my chest tightens with emotion.

I push my head down, my cheeks hollowing out as I wrap my lips around his impressive girth. I think I’ll choke, but somehow I don't. I lose myself in pleasuring him, in the sounds he makes, in the knowledge that I can affect this powerful man so deeply.

Out here, with the vast wilderness spread around us and the approaching storm painting the sky, everything feels primal and honest. There’s no room for pretense or performance, just raw connection.

Corbin’s breathing grows more ragged, his hand tightening slightly in my hair. "Tessa, I'm close," he warns, giving me the choice to pull away. But I don't want to. I want all of him, this moment, this connection. I increase my efforts, taking him deeper, and am rewarded by the warm, salty taste as he comes down my throat.

When he finally pulls me back up to him, his kiss is fierce and grateful, his arms wrapping around me with a tenderness that makes my heart swell. "You're something else, city girl," he murmurs against my lips.

I laugh softly, feeling freer than I have in years. "Maybe I'm finding who I really am out here."

The distant rumble of thunder interrupts the moment. Corbin glances at the approaching storm front, his expression shifting to concern. "We need to get back to the cave. Now."

six

Tessa

Thedistantwhirringsoundis so foreign after days of nothing but rain, wind, and Corbin's voice that I almost don't recognize it. We're sitting outside the cave, savoring the morning sunshine that's finally broken through after the longest storm I've ever experienced.

"Do you hear that?" I ask, tilting my head.

Corbin goes still; he's listening to the mountain. His face changes, a shadow crossing his features. "Helicopter."

The single word lands between us like a stone. We both knew this moment would come—that eventually, the outside world would find us and claim us back. But the reality of it still steals my breath.

"They're searching for you," he says, rising to his feet. His voice has taken on a detachment I haven't heard since our first day together.

I stand too, suddenly desperate to touch him, to anchor this moment before it slips away. My hand finds him, our fingers intertwining with the easy familiarity we've developed over these past few days.

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you," I admit, the words catching in my throat.

Corbin's eyes meet mine, and the raw emotion there makes my chest ache. "Then don't."

"What do you mean?"

He turns fully toward me, taking both my hands in his. "You could stay."

The simple invitation sends my heart racing, possibilities unfurling in my mind like spring leaves. "Here? With you?"

"I know it's crazy," he says quickly. "We've only known each other for days. My cabin is small. The winters are harsh. You'd be giving up everything—"

"Corbin," I interrupt his stream of concerns. "Are you talking yourself into this or out of it?"

A glimmer of his rare smile appears. "Both, I think."

The helicopter sound grows louder. We don't have much time.

"You have a life waiting for you," he continues, his thumbs tracing circles on my palms. "Friends, family, career. I can't ask you to walk away from all that for... this." He gestures to himself, to the mountain.

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