Page 54 of Boulder's Weight

The intensity in his eyes is my undoing.

I rise on my tiptoes, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that's both a surrender, and some sort of claim.

His response is immediate, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me flush against his body.

This kiss is different from our previous encounters.

There's an urgency, yes, but also something deeper, something that feels dangerously close to need.

His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, skimming down my back, gripping my hips with a possessiveness that makes me gasp.

We stumble toward the bedroom, shedding clothes as we go.

Boulder's cut, shirt, and jeans creating a trail behind us.

My work shirt and bra join them, followed by my jeans and underwear.

When we reach the bed, Boulder pushes me down gently, his body covering mine.

The weight of him is comforting, grounding.

His hands pin my wrists above my head, and he looks down at me, his eyes dark with desire.

"Mine to protect," he growls, nipping at my neck. "Say it."

The demand should anger me.

I don't belong to anyone, have fought hard for my independence.

But tonight, with fear still thrumming through my veins, there's something freeing about surrendering control to him.

"Yours to protect," I whisper, arching into him.

His grip on my wrists tightens fractionally, a reminder of his strength. "I won't let anyone hurt you," he promises, his lips trailing down my neck to my collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

His mouth finds my breast, teeth grazing my nipple just hard enough to make me gasp.

One of his hands releases my wrist to slide down my body, slipping between my legs to find me already wet for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against my skin, his fingers circling my clit with just the right pressure. "So fucking perfect."

I moan, hips bucking against his hand. "Boulder, please..."

"What do you need, Montana?" he asks, his fingers teasing my entrance. "Tell me."

"You," I gasp. "Inside me. Now."

He groans, positioning himself between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock pressing against me.

"Look at me," he commands.

I open my eyes, meeting his gaze as he pushes into me slowly, filling me inch by inch until he's seated to the hilt.

We both groan at the sensation, and for a moment, he stays perfectly still, our bodies joined completely.

"Keep your eyes on me," he says, starting to move. "I want to see everything."

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