Page 20 of The Mountain Man's Irresistible Bride
He lays me on the bed and brushes my hair from my forehead.
“I love you,” he says again, staring into my eyes. “I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll see.”
“I believe you, Elias. I love you. Now, make love to me.”
He kisses my neck, slow and reverent, his hands tracing the curve of my waist, the swell of my breasts. I arch into his touch, craving more. When he takes a nipple into his mouth, I gasp, fisting the sheets.
“God, Juniper… you’re so damn beautiful.”
His hand slides down between my thighs. He strokes me gently, then with purpose, until I’m gasping his name, my hips lifting off the bed.
“I want to make you come just like this,” he whispers, fingers moving in slow circles. “I want you to feel how much I want you.”
“Elias, please…”
He groans, kissing me hard as I fall apart under his hand, shaking and breathless.
When he finally presses inside me, it’s with aching tenderness. He stills, breathing heavily against my neck.
“You okay?”
I wrap my legs around his waist. “Yes. God, yes.”
He moves slowly, deliberately, watching every flicker of emotion cross my face. Each stroke is deep and sweet and overwhelming.
“I’ve never felt like this,” he murmurs, kissing my jaw. “You’re everything.”
We move together, bodies slick with sweat, moans tangled in the air between us. When I come again, it’s with a sob, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me anchored.
He follows with a groan, holding me so tight I can feel the shake in his arms.
Later, when the air is thick with the scent of sweat and woodsmoke, I find myself straddling him in the afterglow. His hands rest on my hips, eyes dark and hungry as he watches me rise and fall, slow.
“You feel like heaven,” he says, voice wrecked. “Like I’ve been waiting my whole damn life for this.”
I lean down and kiss him, tongue tangling with his as his hands spread across my back. We move together again, this time slower, more intentional, like we’re memorizing every second.
He flips us gently, kissing my breasts, worshipping every inch of skin like it’s sacred.
“You’re not the solution to a problem,” he growls into my skin. “You’re the reason I’m still breathing.”
He makes love to me until I’m crying again—not from pain, not from sadness—but from being seen and being cherished.
When we finally collapse together, tangled and exhausted, he gathers me against his chest, wraps the blankets around us, and kisses the top of my head.
“I want a life with you, Juniper. This cabin. That garden. You, me, and Wren. Every damn day.”
I smile against his chest. “Then it’s yours. I’m yours.”
We fall asleep like that. Worn out. Loved up. Finally whole.
Chapter Twelve
Elias
The wind howls across the ridge, shaking the last stubborn leaves from the trees, and I lean against the porch rail, watching Juniper through the kitchen window. Her hair’s in a messy bun, cheeks flushed from the oven heat, and her smile radiates.
Inside, the cabin smells like cinnamon and roasting turkey. I can hear Wren’s laughter echo off the walls as Juniper teaches her how to fold cloth napkins into the shape of turkeys. Every once in a while, Wren glances up at Juniper like she’s trying not to smile too big. Like she can’t quite believe someone like her came into our lives.
