Page 26 of Bewitched By the Mountain Man
I start pacing the living room, adrenaline still crashing through me. “He has a video. Heknows.Someone had to be there, at the club that night. Someone who saw me, who recognized me. Who would’ve sent that to him?”
My mind spins, replaying every moment of that night like a broken reel.
Lachlan watches me. “One of his friends, maybe?”
“Maybe,” I whisper, rubbing a hand over my face. “Or someone who just wanted to stir shit. Someone who has it out for me.”
He steps closer and pulls me into his arms. I sink into his chest, but the panic doesn’t let up.
“What if he finds out you’re my professor? What if he tries to use it against you?”
Lachlan leans back just enough to look me in the eyes.
“Then we’ll deal with it,” he says. “Okay? Whatever comes, we’ll handle it.”
"Lachlan..." I start. “You say that now. But earlier tonight you were pushing me away. Saying we can’t do this. That it was a mistake."
“I know,” he says quickly. “I know, and I’m sorry. I thought I was protecting us. Protectingyou.But then you walked away, said it meant nothing, said I was just a rebound, and...”
He exhales hard.
“That wrecked me. Because it’s not nothing. And yeah, maybe it’s not exactly mature to only realize it after the fact, but it’s the truth.”
He cups my face in his hands.
“But you don’t understand…” I start again.
"I understand perfectly. I understand that I spent five years hiding from life, from feeling anything real. And I understand that I met you, and everything changed. So if your ex wants to expose us, if the university wants to make this a problem, then fine. Let them. But I’m not losing you because I’m scared of the consequences. No more running. No more pushing each other away."
"I'm completely fucking terrified,” I admit.
“I think that's how you know it matters," he says.
He kisses me gently, his hand sliding along my jaw. We sink into the couch together, the worn leather creaking under our weight.
Lachlan undresses me slowly, taking time to drink me in. His fingers brush the curve of my shoulder, the dip of my waist, and I shiver from the way he touches me. Like I’m something precious, something to be opened carefully, not torn apart in a rush.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just above my pussy.
I reach for him, my hands tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. He helps me, pulling the fabric over his head.
When he enters me this time, it’s slow and steady. His movements are careful, like he’s trying to weave himself into me. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, drawing him closer, my nails grazing his back as I pull him down until there’s no space left between us.
Neither of us speaks. It’s just the sound of our moans and the soft slap of skin. His hands roam my body, one sliding up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple until I gasp.
“I’m falling for you, Tessa.”
My heart stutters, the confession sinking into me. I touch his face, my thumb tracing the sharp edge of his cheekbone.
“Me too,” I whisper.
He stills for half a second, his forehead resting against mine. Then he moves again, deeper this time, his thrusts slow but powerful. His hand slides to the back of my head, his fingers tangling gently in my hair. His thrusts build and I match him, my hips rising to meet his, my legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer. He kisses me again, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips.
“You feel so good,” he groans against my mouth. “I don’t deserve you, but fuck, I want you more than I’ve wanted anything.”
“You have me,” I say.
He groans as his thrusts deepen, his hand sliding down to hitch my leg higher to change the angle. The shift makes me gasp.
