Page 12 of Haunted By the Mountain Man
"He's worth it," I said. "Just like Gran was worth it. Even when it hurts."
We stood like that for a long moment, breathing together, his hands on my face the only thing anchoring me. When I finally looked up at him, his silver eyes were blazing with a deep emotion I hadn’t been expecting.
"Shane," I whispered.
"Tell me to stop,” he gritted out. "Tell me this is a bad idea and I'll walk away right now."
"I don’t want to."
One moment we were standing apart, the next his mouth crashed down on mine with desperate hunger. His kiss was everything I'd imagined and nothing I was prepared for—demanding, consuming, claiming me in a way that made my knees go weak.
I gasped against his mouth, and he took advantage, his tongue sweeping in to taste me. One of his hands tangled in my hair, angling my head exactly where he wanted it, while the other slid down to grip my hip, pulling me flush against his body.
God, his body. All hard muscle and controlled strength, so much bigger than me that I felt delicate and feminine and utterly owned. He was hard against my stomach. His whole body trembled with the effort of holding back.
"Fuck," he groaned against my lips. "You taste better than I imagined."
"You imagined this?"
"Every goddamn minute since you walked into my lodge." He kissed me again, harder this time, backing me up until my spine hit the tiled wall. The cold tile against my back contrasted sharply with the heat of his body pressing against my front. "Imagined this mouth. These curves. The sounds you'd make when I touched you."
His hand slid under my shirt, hot against my skin, and I arched into his touch with a moan. He swallowed the sound, his kiss growing more demanding, more possessive.
"That's it," he growled. "Let me hear you. Want to know every sound you make."
He palmed my breast through my bra, and when his thumb brushed over my nipple, I cried out. He captured the sound withanother searing kiss, his hips grinding against me in a rhythm that made me dizzy with need.
"Shane," I gasped when he moved his mouth to my neck, sucking and biting in a way that would definitely leave marks. "Please—"
"Please what?" His hand squeezed my breast, thumb circling my nipple. "Tell me what you want, Raven."
"More. I need more."
He made a sound low in his chest—primal and satisfied—before lifting me like I weighed nothing. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and the new position put us exactly where we both needed. He ground against me, and even through our clothes, the friction was almost enough to make me come.
"You feel good." He kissed me again, one hand supporting my ass while the other worked between us, sliding under my shirt to cup my breast directly. "So fucking perfect. I want to make you mine."
His possessive words sent fire through my veins. "Yes."
"Say it." He lightly pinched my nipple, and I nearly came apart. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours," I gasped, rocking against him desperately. "Shane, please, I need—"
A loud crash from somewhere in the building made us both freeze. Then Walt's voice, confused and distressed.
"Shane? Shane, where are you? Something's wrong with the heating system. I think there's smoke!"
Shane's whole body went rigid. For a moment he didn't move, his face buried against my neck, his breathing harsh and uneven. I could feel how hard he was, could feel the trembling in his arms as he fought for control.
"Fuck," he breathed against my skin. Then, louder, "Be right there, Walt!"
He carefully lowered me to the ground, and I grabbed the wall for support since my legs were shaking. His eyes were wild, pupils blown so wide there was barely any silver left, his lips swollen from our kiss.
"We're not done," he said, his voice rough with promise and frustration. "This isn't over."
"Shane—"
"Stay here. I need to check on Walt." He adjusted himself with a grimace. "And for fuck's sake, don't look at me like that or I'm going to say to hell with it and take you right here against this wall."
