Page 14 of The Mountain Man's Curvy Trick-or-Treat

Pride hums through me, intensifying the frequency. My hands trace her shape—delicate neck, strong shoulders, soft waist, even softer hips. Hips I could get lost in. Hips I have to get my head between.

But first … something I’ve been curious about for centuries. “Your breasts. Let me see them.”

Eden’s brows knit. “Ugh! There you go again, trying to pull me out of my fantasy.”

“Ugh,” I repeat carefully. “Is that one of your mating words? Or a warning? I can’t tell the difference yet.”

She exhales sharply, frustration softening into laughter. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk at all.”

Her eyes flick to Mother Tree, noticing how the light orbs drift around us.

“They hide us … visually and acoustically,” I explain, proud of my efficiency.

She just stares.

“Ah,” I add quickly, “humans don’t find that romantic. Noted.”

“Shush, Everett,” she orders, pulling her costume over her head to reveal a lacy black bra and panties. Items I’ve only ever seen in a clothing store.

My hand rubs the back of my neck, awe tightening my throat. I never imagined how breathtaking a human woman could be—especially one with curves shaped for worship.

“What are you staring at?”

I frown. “You told me not to talk.”

She groans. “More like don’t say anything that pulls me out of whatever this is.”

I meet her gaze and shift tactics. The bond isn’t complete, but the resonance should be strong enough to?—

“Hey! Get out of my head!”

I chuckle, drawing her closer. She’s the most confusing, fascinating, irresistible life-form I’ve ever encountered. And now, she’s mine.

I brush against her thoughts again.Let me in. Let me learn how to please you.

“You’ve got another thing com?—”

Eden, relax.

My mouth descends to hers again. This time, I let my thoughts bleed into her mind. Let her feel me feeling her. Let her taste me tasting her.

“Oh, God, what is that?” she gasps, then smiles wickedly. “You mean, you could do that to…?”

“To know what you want before you want it,” I murmur. “Yes.”

“I’m losing my mind. You’ve drugged me or?—”

“Let me be your drug,” I murmur, then pause. “That’s the correct idiom, yes? Not … narcotic?”

Shut up, Starman,she says without words.

Her thoughts unfurl in a rush; my pulse races, the forest itself vibrating in response. I’m flooded with what she needs, what she fears, what she hides.

I unclasp her bra in a practiced motion not my own and take one of her pebbled, rose-colored nipples into my mouth. I circle it greedily, feeling her unravel around the heat of my mouth.

Yes, whatever you need, little mate, I will give you. I will bring your dreams to life and protect you from the nightmares.

My hands come up, kneading and teasing her. I nip and suck, walking the tightrope between pleasure and pain until she gasps, and I alternate sides.