Page 14 of The Mountain Man’s Untamed Bride (Mountain Man Sanctuary #4)

"So I've been told." I set my jar aside, gathering courage from the stars above and the steady presence beside me. "But seriously, Bodhi... I think I'm falling for you too. And it terrifies me because I came here with such a different plan."

"Terrifies me too," he admitted. "I built this place to be alone. Now I can't imagine it without you complaining about the wifi and teaching Colonel bad habits."

I leaned closer, drawn to him like I'd been since I'd first seen him. "So what do we do about it?"

His gaze dropped to my lips. "Whatever you want. No pressure. No expectations."

"What if what I want is you?" I whispered. "All of you?"

His mouth found mine in a kiss that started gentle but quickly blazed into something hungry and desperate. His hands tangled in my hair, cradling my head like I might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough.

I climbed into his lap, straddling him on the log bench, needing to be closer. His hands slid beneath my dress, finding bare skin at my waist, his touch igniting me despite the night air.

"Inside," he murmured against my neck. "Not having your first time on a splintery log."

Before I could respond, he stood, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me toward the cabin, our kiss unbroken.

"Is this the part where you throw me over your shoulder like a caveman?" I asked breathlessly when we finally paused for air.

His smile was gentle despite the hunger in his eyes. "No, this is the part where I carry you like something precious. The caveman part comes later."

The promise in those words sent a shiver of anticipation through me.

Inside, he carried me straight to his bedroom. Unlike the rest of the cabin, here the wilderness gave way to unexpected comfort: a massive bed with hand-carved posts dominated the space, covered in soft sheets that looked invitingly cool against the August heat.

He laid me down with reverent care, but I pulled him immediately after me, unwilling to lose contact even for a moment. His weight settled partly over me, deliciously solid and warm.

"Are you sure?" he asked, searching my eyes. "We can wait—"

"I've been trying to seduce you with fruit for days," I reminded him, tugging at his shirt. "If we wait any longer, I'll have to resort to vegetables, and nobody wants that."

He laughed, the sound vibrating through both our bodies, before his expression turned serious again. "I need to hear you say it, Scarlett."

"I'm sure," I said, meeting his gaze steadily. "I want this. I want you."

His kiss was slower this time, deeper, like he was memorizing the taste of me. Clothes fell away under patient hands—my dress lifting over my head, his shirt revealing the muscled expanse of his chest and shoulders, jeans and underwear until nothing remained between us.

I'd expected to feel self-conscious, but the way he looked at me—like I was something extraordinary—banished any insecurity. His eyes darkened as they traveled over my naked body, his breath catching visibly.

"You're perfect," he murmured, trailing his fingers along my collarbone, down between my breasts, over the curve of my hip.

I trembled beneath his touch, arching toward him instinctively. "Please don't make me wait anymore."

"Some things," he said, pressing a kiss to my neck, "deserve to be savored." Another kiss to my shoulder. "Explored." His mouth descended to my breast, tongue circling my nipple before taking it between his lips.

I gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as sensation spiraled through me.

My other breast received the same attention, his tongue and teeth working in tandem until both peaks were hard and sensitive.

Every gentle tug sent a corresponding pulse between my legs, building a pressure I'd never experienced.

"Bodhi," I breathed, not even sure what I was asking for.

His hand slid lower, tracing patterns on my inner thigh, coming tantalizingly close to where I needed him most before retreating. The teasing touches had me squirming beneath him, my hips lifting in silent plea.

"Patience," he whispered against my skin, trailing kisses down my stomach.

"Easy for you to say," I managed, my voice shaky. "You're not the one being tortured."

His chuckle vibrated against my hip bone. "Trust me, this is torture for both of us."

His fingers finally found the wet heat between my legs, sliding through the slickness with a reverence that made me whimper. He explored unhurriedly, learning which touches made me gasp, which made me arch, which made me clutch at his shoulders.

When he finally circled my clit with his thumb, the jolt of pleasure was so intense I cried out, my back arching off the bed. He watched my face as he continued the gentle circles, his expression a mixture of hunger and wonder.

"So responsive," he murmured, leaning down to kiss me deeply as his fingers continued their exploration. "So beautiful."

He slid one finger inside me, then a second, stretching me gently as his thumb maintained its maddening circles.

I'd touched myself before, of course, but nothing had prepared me for how different it felt to have someone else's hands on me, in me—especially when that someone knew exactly what they were doing.

"That feels..." I struggled to find words as pleasure built in waves.

"Tell me," he encouraged, curling his fingers inside me to find a spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

"Oh god," I gasped, my hips moving instinctively against his hand. "Right there."

He repeated the motion, adding more pressure, watching my reactions with an intensity that was almost as arousing as his touch. I felt myself climbing toward something immense, something that both terrified and beckoned me.

When his mouth moved lower, replacing his thumb with his tongue, I nearly came undone on the spot. The wet heat of him against my most sensitive flesh was overwhelming. He tasted me thoroughly, using the flat of his tongue in broad strokes before focusing with devastating precision on my clit.

"Bodhi," I gasped, torn between pulling away and pushing closer as the pleasure built to almost unbearable heights. "I'm going to—I can't—"

"You can," he murmured against me, his fingers still working inside me as his tongue circled my clit. "Let go, Scarlett. I've got you."

The combination of his fingers curling inside me, his tongue circling my clit, and his eyes watching me with such intensity pushed me over the edge.

The orgasm crashed through me with unexpected force, waves of pleasure radiating outward as I cried out his name.

He worked me through it gently, easing only when I collapsed against the mattress.

As I struggled to catch my breath, he moved back up my body, kissing me deeply. The taste of myself on his lips was startlingly intimate, erotic in a way I hadn't anticipated.

"That was..." I searched for words.

"Just the beginning," he promised, reaching toward the bedside drawer.

I caught his wrist. "My turn first."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he didn't resist as I pushed at his shoulders, encouraging him onto his back. The reversal of positions gave me my first unobstructed view of him fully naked—all sculpted muscle and tan skin, his cock hard and impressive against his stomach.

I settled between his legs, momentarily uncertain despite my boldness. "You'll have to guide me."

His hand brushed my cheek. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," I insisted. "Just... tell me if I do something wrong."

I wrapped my hand around him experimentally, marveling at the contrast of smooth skin over hardness. His sharp intake of breath encouraged me to stroke from base to tip, learning the feel of him.

"Like this?" I asked, watching his face.

"Perfect," he managed, voice strained. "Just like that."

Emboldened, I lowered my head, maintaining eye contact as I took him into my mouth. His groan was immediate and deeply satisfying, his hand coming to rest gently on my head without applying pressure.

"Yes," he breathed as I experimented with pressure and rhythm. "God, Scarlett."

I'd worried about technique, but his reactions guided me—the catch in his breathing when I swirled my tongue around the head, the tensing of his thighs when I took him deeper, the increasingly desperate sounds as I found a rhythm that had his hips lifting slightly to meet me.

When his hand tightened in my hair, gently pulling me up, I resisted briefly.

"Stop," he rasped. "Or this ends much sooner than I want."

I released him with a final, teasing lick that made him groan again, pleased with myself. He pulled me up for a bruising kiss.

"Last chance to change your mind," he said gruffly, his forehead against me.

In answer, I straddled him, positioning myself above him. His hands settled on my hips, guiding me as I sank down slowly, taking him inch by inch. There was pressure, a brief sharp pain that made me gasp, then a feeling of incredible fullness as he filled me completely.

"Okay?" he asked, his face strained with the effort of remaining still.

I took a deep breath, adjusting to the new sensation. "Better than okay."

His hands guided my hips in a gentle rhythm as I began to move, finding what felt good. The discomfort faded quickly, replaced by building pleasure as I discovered the angle that made sparks shoot through my veins.

"That's it," he encouraged, one hand sliding between us to circle my clit as I rode him. "So beautiful."

The combination of his touch, his words, and the fullness of him inside me quickly had me climbing toward another peak. My movements grew more urgent, less coordinated as I chased the sensation.

"Bodhi," I gasped, "I'm close—"

In one fluid motion, he flipped us, maintaining our connection as he settled above me. My legs wrapped around his waist as he began to thrust more deeply, hitting a spot inside me that had me seeing stars.

"Come for me again," he urged, his rhythm increasing as his control frayed. "Want to feel you."

His words pushed me over the edge, my second orgasm even more intense than the first as I clenched around him. He followed moments later with a guttural groan, his hips jerking against mine as he found his release.

We collapsed together, limbs entangled, hearts racing in tandem. He was careful not to crush me, but kept me close as we caught our breath.

Afterward, he returned to gather me against his chest, pulling the soft sheet over our cooling bodies. I nestled into him, feeling strangely at home in this wild man's arms.

"Okay?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to my temple.

"Mmm," I mumbled sleepily. "More than. Though I may never move again."

His chuckle rumbled beneath my ear. "That would be convenient. Keep you right here where I can see you."

"Possessive much?" I teased, but secretly thrilled at the implication.

"Only of things that matter," he replied, his arms tightening around me.

As sleep began to claim me, I realized with perfect clarity that somewhere between fire extinguisher disasters and banana seductions, this cabin had become more home to me than anywhere I'd ever lived.

And this man—this gruff, tender mountain hermit who talked to chickens and carried me like I was precious—had claimed a piece of my heart I suspected I'd never get back.

For someone who'd come to Promise Ridge to lose her virginity and gain independence, I'd found something far more valuable: a place to belong, exactly as I was.

"Stay," he whispered against my hair, already half-asleep himself.

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised, meaning it more than he could know.

In his arms, I drifted off to the chorus of night sounds through the open window—crickets chirping, an owl's distant call, and the steady rhythm of Bodhi's heart beneath my cheek. For the first time in my life, I felt completely, authentically free.