Page 10 of The Mountain Man's Irresistible Bride
“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters. “Every inch of you.”
When he finally settles between my thighs again, hard and ready, he braces his forehead to mine.
“This might hurt.”
I nod, breathless. “I trust you.”
He kisses me then, deep and slow, as he pushes inside. I wince, tightening around him, but his hand strokes my thigh, his lips murmuring comfort.
“Jesus, Juniper,” he rasps. “You feel like heaven, so fucking tight. So wet. You’re squeezing me like you were made for me.”
The sting fades. The fullness doesn’t. He starts to move, slow at first, letting me adjust. Letting me feel every thick inch of him. Then faster when I meet him, pulse for pulse. My name is a prayer on his lips. His name becomes a chant on mine.
“You’re mine now,” he groans, hips snapping. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasp. “Only yours.”
“Good girl. So fucking good.”
He thrusts harder, deeper, angling to hit something inside that makes me cry out again. His thumb finds my clit, and the second orgasm rips through me, fierce and blinding.
I sob into his mouth. “Elias—oh God—”
He groans as he follows me over the edge, buried deep, spilling inside me with a low, broken moan.
When it’s over, we’re tangled and shaking. He wraps me in the flannel blanket, pulls me onto his lap, and holds me against his chest like he never wants to let go.
I rest my cheek against his heart, listening to it thunder beneath my ear.
Neither of us speaks. Eventually, I drift off in his arms, but just before I fall completely asleep, one thought anchors itself in my mind: What happens now?
Chapter Six
Elias
I wake with Juniper curled up against my chest, her soft breaths warming my skin. The scent of her hair, warm vanilla, fills my lungs, and for a single, fleeting second, I let myself pretend. Pretend she’s mine. That last night wasn’t a mistake. That I didn’t just ruin everything by giving in.
She stirs, her fingers brushing over my bare chest, and I remember exactly what I’ve done. I’ve complicated everything. She’s supposed to be my wife on paper, a solution, nothing more.
I steel myself, shifting just enough to dislodge her. The moment I move, her eyes blink open, hazy and warm. She smiles like she doesn’t regret a thing, like she thinks this means something has changed between us.
Shit.
“Morning,” she murmurs.
I can’t look at her. Can’t let myself get caught in those hopeful eyes. I sit up, gently pulling away from her. She clutches the flannel blanket tighter, watching me. Waiting.
I clear my throat. “That was a mistake.”
Her face falters, just a flicker, but I see it. “Oh.”
“We’re doing this for Wren,” I say, my voice like gravel. “You know that.”
She nods, too fast. “Right. Of course.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s okay.”
