Page 5 of Falling for the Mountain Man

Ryder

She rises on her toes, and without another word, she closes the distance.

Her lips meet mine, and the world explodes in color.

It’s not tentative. It’s an answer. A soft, desperate press that ignites every nerve ending I possess.

Her mouth is impossibly softer than I ever dreamed, yielding and warm, and she tastes like hope and home and a future I never let myself believe I could have. A low, broken sound rumbles in my chest, lost against her lips.

I don’t just kiss her back; I drink her in.

My hands slide from her face into her hair, tangling in the silken strands, holding her to me as if she might vanish.

I pour two years of pent-up longing into it, every lonely night spent in this cabin, every protective instinct screaming that she is mine.

A tiny, breathy sound escapes her, a muffled whimper that vibrates against my mouth. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard. It unravels me. My control, already hanging by a thread, snaps.

I step forward, my body crowding hers, pressing her back until the hard edge of the kitchen counter digs into her lower back.

She gasps into my mouth, a sharp, sweet intake of air, and her hands come up to clutch at the front of my shirt, fisting the fabric, holding on for dear life.

I’m trapping her, caging her in, and the thrill that shoots through me is primal.

She’s not pushing me away. She’s pulling me closer. Clutching me like she needs more contact over oxygen in her lungs.

The kiss deepens, turning from a revelation into a claiming.

It’s no longer soft. It’s hungry. My tongue traces the seam of her lips, and she opens for me without hesitation, a surrender that makes my head spin.

The taste of her is richer now, deeper, and I explore her with a desperation I can’t conceal.

Every soft sigh she makes, every little catch in her breath, is a brand on my soul.

I break for air, my forehead resting against hers, our ragged breaths mingling in the non-existent space between us.

Her eyes are closed, her lips are swollen and glistening from my kiss, and her cheeks are flushed a beautiful, fevered pink. I’ve never seen a more perfect sight.

“Ryder,” she whispers, my name a plea on her ravaged lips.

Now isn’t the time to recall Kallie revealing that Zaria’s still a virgin. She’s never had a real man touching her like this. I want to be the one to show her how good pleasure can feel when done right.

All I want to do is do her right.

Would she let me?

“What is it, sweetness?” My breath tickles her lips, and I fight not just to kiss her. Need to take my time and let her adjust.

“I—” She slides her hands up my chest and tickles my throat. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.”

Just a few words are all it takes for all the blood in my body to run south, swelling my cock against my pajama pants. There’s no point in hiding the evidence, the damage is done when she stirs against me.

“You better believe the same is for me, Zaria.” Listening to her gasp as my tongue flicks against her parted lips, I groan in the back of my throat. “Two years is a long time for just one kiss to be satisfying enough.”

She nods in agreement, wrapping her arms behind my neck to pull me back down.

I crash my mouth back onto hers, a drowning man seizing his only source of air. My hands are desperate things, sliding from the silk of her hair down the desperate arch of her back, pressing her into me until I can feel the frantic hammer of her heart against my own.

I want to feel every inch of her, to erase every molecule of space that has ever existed between us, to fuse us into one single, desperate being.

She gives it right back. She arches into me, molding her body to mine with a soft, broken sound that goes straight to my soul. This is it. This is where we were always meant to be.

The floodgates aren’t just open—they’ve been obliterated.

When she tears her mouth from mine, gasping for air, I don’t stop.

My lips find the frantic pulse in her jaw, then the hot, sweet skin of her throat.

My voice is a ragged, broken thing against her skin.

“Am I going too fast? Tell me to stop. If you don’t, I’ll… ”

I’ll consider taking everything I’ve ever wanted from this woman. Her voice, her body, her pleasure… everything.

“Don’t you dare stop.” She bites her swollen bottom lip, a vision for sore eyes, and tilts her head back, offering herself. “I’ve…wanted so much more than just kisses.”

Fuck. She’s going to be the death of me. A beautiful, agonizing end. She’s being so truthful today. Is it the exhaustion numbing her defenses?

I don’t think, I just act. I scoop her up, and my world narrows to the feel of her legs locking around my hips, anchoring me to her.

A sharp, breathy groan escapes her when I press the hard, aching length of my need against her core. The thin fabric of her pajamas doesn’t hide any of my hunger.

I want her to feel it. I need her to know the devastating effect she has on me. This isn’t just a want, it’s a need.

“Don’t be shy now, sweetness,” I rasp, my voice thick with a need that borders on pain. “Tell me what you want. Ask me for anything. The stars, the moon—it’s yours. I will burn the whole world down to give it to you. Just say the words.”

I see the flicker of hesitation, a ghost of the real world haunting the edges of this perfect moment. Her eyes dart toward the kitchen entrance, and a sliver of fear cuts through me.

Don’t pull away. Not now.

“Please,” she whispers, and the raw plea in that one word undoes me completely. “Let’s go somewhere else. I can’t… I can’t bear to be interrupted again. I need this. I need you.”

That’s all it takes. Every atom in my body is already in motion.

I carry her, my grip secure, my entire being focused on the singular mission of getting her to a room, any room, where I can worship her properly.

Then her hands cup my face, not with softness, but with a claiming hunger that steals the air from my lungs. She kisses me, and it’s not a response—it’s a demand. A searing demand that she is every bit as lost in this as I am.

The shy girl is gone, replaced by a siren pulling me under, and the groan that rips from my chest is pure agony and ecstasy. My knees nearly buckle.

The most challenging task I have ever faced is not running us straight into a wall, because all the blood in my body has rushed south, and my entire universe has condensed to the feel of her mouth on mine and the promise of what comes next.

I take her to the one place I know we won’t be disturbed. My bedroom. Shuffling inside, I shut the door with my foot, separating ourselves from the rest of the world.

“Always wanted to slip inside here in secret. Roll around in your sheets. Does that make me weird?” Her confession, whispered against my neck as I cross the threshold into my room, sends a fresh, searing wave of heat through me.

I laugh, a rough, breathy sound that’s more air than humor. It’s either that or groan from the sheer, overwhelming want her words ignite. “Weird?” I ask, my voice dropping as I reach the bed. “Is that what you think?”

Before she can answer, I let her go. She bounces once on the mattress, a soft gasp escaping her lips, her light-colored hair fanning out around her like a halo. The sight of her here, in the center of my bed, exactly where I’ve only ever dreamed she’d be, is my undoing.

I feel like I’m overheating, my skin too tight, the air in the room too thick to breathe.

I fist the hem of my shirt and yank it over my head in one frantic motion, tossing it to the floor without a second thought.

The cooler air is a relief against my burning skin, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough except her.

My eyes are locked on her as my hand goes to the straining bulge in my pajama pants.

I squeeze myself through the soft fabric, a sharp, involuntary groan tearing from my throat at the pressure, at the sheer ache of it.

She watches the movement, her eyes wide with curiosity, and I see her breath catch.

I crawl onto the bed, caging her beneath me, bracing one arm beside her head. I lower my face to hers, close enough to feel her warm, quick breaths against my lips.

“The last thing I think when I look at you,” I tell her, my voice a low, raw rasp, “is that you’re weird. The only thing I’m thinking is that you’re mine , Zaria. Now…are you going to tell me what you want me to do, or am I going to have to figure that part out myself?”