Page 12 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Bride

“Very good,” she agrees, her voice gentle, almost hesitant.

Silence falls again, heavier this time. I sense her nerves, and it makes my heart clench with regret. I reach out cautiously, placing my hand over hers. “Daisy, about last night?—”

She shakes her head quickly, cutting me off. “It's fine, Wes. Really. I shouldn't have?—”

“No,” I interrupt gently, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “You didn't do anything wrong. It was me. I was afraid to ruin this, to rush things. But the truth is…” I pause, searching her eyes, the honesty pouring out of me. “I've wanted you since the moment you showed up on my doorstep.”

Her eyes widen slightly, her breathing hitching as she processes my words. “Really?” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly with hope.

I nod slowly, leaning closer until our faces are just inches apart. “Really.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I gently brush a strand of hair from her cheek, my fingertips lingering against her soft skin. Daisy tilts her head slightly, her eyes drifting closed as I close the distance between us.

Our lips meet softly at first, a gentle exploration filled with uncertainty and tender care. Her lips are soft, warm, inviting, and a thrill of desire races through my veins, igniting a fire inside me. Her small sigh melts away any lingering doubts, andI deepen the kiss, pulling her closer, needing to feel her fully in my arms.

Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my flannel shirt, pulling me even closer as she presses against me eagerly. The kiss intensifies, growing deeper and more passionate, our breaths mingling as our mouths move together in perfect harmony. I feel her heart beating rapidly against my chest, matching the wild rhythm of my own.

A low groan escapes me as her fingers tangle into my hair, tugging gently, urging me to take more. My hands roam over her curves, exploring the softness of her waist, the gentle flare of her hips, drawing her impossibly closer. My desire for Daisy is overwhelming, consuming every thought, every nerve ending, leaving room for nothing but her.

“Daisy,” I whisper breathlessly, breaking the kiss only long enough to gaze into her eyes, darkened with passion and longing. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

“I think I do,” she murmurs, a shy smile playing at her lips, her eyes sparkling with emotion. “Because I feel the same way.”

Our mouths crash together again, the kiss fierce and desperate this time, fueled by pent-up longing and need. My hands slide beneath her sweater, her skin warm and silky beneath my touch. I trace gentle patterns along her lower back, reveling in the way she shivers and arches against me, craving my touch just as intensely as I crave hers.

The fire crackles softly behind us, the warmth seeping into our bodies as we lose ourselves in each other, completely unaware of anything beyond the embrace we've been denying ourselves for too long.

Pulling back slightly, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing heavily, our bodies pressed close. "You're incredible, Daisy."

Her eyes flutter open slowly, a tender smile spreading across her beautiful face. “So are you, Wes. I've wanted this—wanted you—from the moment I arrived.”

A wave of warmth floods my chest, and I hold her tighter, marveling at how right she feels in my arms. This is where she belongs. Where we both belong.

Tonight, for the first time, I'm letting go of my fears, fully embracing the woman who has somehow managed to capture my heart without even trying.

I gently lift her into my arms and carry her down the hallway to my, I mean,ourroom. I deposit her on the bed, and step back to get a good, long look at her.

She’s breathtaking.

She blinks, smiling that smile that turns me ravenous for her. “Come to bed, husband.”

I remove my clothing quicker than humanly possible, and charge the bed. She gasps as I tumble her down to the comforter, my cock growing harder.

I take my time undressing her, memorizing every soft curve of her body. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her when she tries to cover up.

“I’m not skinny like other women. My body has always been an insecurity of mine.”

I push her sweater off her and gaze at her perfect body. “I don’t know why. I think you’re perfect.”

She scoffs. “I’m hardly perfect.”

I press my lips to her temple. “You’re perfect for me.”

10

Daisy

Hearing Wes call me perfect does something to me. Deep in my chest. I’ve never been called perfect in my life. In fact, Steven never liked the way I looked. He’d call me names all the time.

---