Page 18 of Mountain Man’s Curvy Girl (Summer In The Pines #4)
Chloe
The rain falls softly outside the window against the backdrop of the mountain.
Inside Ethan’s cabin— our cabin—the air is warm and heavy with the scent of pine, the fire crackling low in the hearth.
The small, intimate ceremony we’d planned was perfect, with just a handful of friends and family braving the cold to watch us exchange vows.
Now, the guests are gone, and it’s just the two of us. Husband and wife.
I still can’t believe it. I glance down at the simple gold band on my finger, twisting it gently as I sit on the edge of the bed.
The satin of my wedding dress clings to my curves, the delicate lace bodice snug against my skin.
I’m still wearing the heels Mia convinced me to buy—though I swore I wouldn’t—and I can’t stop fidgeting as I wait.
“Chloe.”
His voice, deep and rough, cuts through the quiet like a low rumble of thunder.
My breath catches as I glance up to find him standing in the doorway.
He’s already shed his jacket and tie, the top few buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms. His hair is slightly mussed, his blue-gray eyes dark and focused as they roam over me.
“You look nervous,” he murmurs, stepping into the room.
“Not nervous,” I say softly, though my voice shakes slightly. “Just… thinking.”
“About what?” he asks, his lips curving into a faint smirk as he moves closer, his hands already reaching for the knot of his cufflinks.
“You,” I admit, my cheeks heating as I glance away.
His low chuckle sends a shiver down my spine. “Yeah? What about me?”
“That I’m your wife now,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, more intense, as he steps in front of me. He crouches down, his broad hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the layers of my dress aside as he kneels between my legs.
“You’re mine now,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive. “Completely. Forever.”
I nod, my breath hitching as his hands move higher, curling around my waist to pull me closer.
“Say it,” he commands, his blue-gray eyes locking onto mine.
“I’m yours,” I whisper, my hands trembling as they settle on his shoulders.
“Damn right you are,” he growls, leaning in to kiss me. It starts slow, soft, but it doesn’t stay that way. His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that leaves me breathless, his hands pulling me closer until I’m practically in his lap.
The satin of my dress slips down my shoulders, and he pulls back just enough to slide it lower, his rough hands skimming over my skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mutters, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck.
My hands tangle in his hair as his mouth moves lower, trailing kisses down my collarbone, across the tops of my breasts. When his teeth graze the edge of the lace, I gasp, my thighs tightening around his hips.
“Ethan,” I whisper, my voice trembling as his fingers find the zipper at the back of my dress, tugging it down with agonizing slowness.
“Shh,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Let me take my time with you, sweetheart. I’m not rushing tonight.”
The dress slips away, pooling around my waist, and his hands are everywhere—tracing, teasing, worshiping every inch of me. His mouth follows, leaving a trail of heat that makes my skin tingle and my head spin.
“You’re perfect,” he growls, his voice rough with need as his lips close over my nipple, his hand sliding between my thighs. “So fucking perfect.”
I cry out, my body arching against him as his fingers find my heat, sliding through the slickness there. “Ethan, please…”
“What do you want, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his lips trailing down my stomach as he pushes me back onto the bed.
“You,” I gasp, my hands clutching at the sheets as he spreads my thighs wider, settling between them. “I want you.”
“Good,” he growls, his voice vibrating against my skin as his tongue slides through my folds. “Because you’re going to have me, Chloe. Every fucking inch.”