Page 14 of Mountain Man

He pulled the door open.

“What did I do wrong?” I said, the desperation in my voice so damn obvious.

He froze.

“Please tell me why you’re so angry with me.” I barely knew this man, but I hated the thought of him being angry with me, that I’d somehow upset him.

He pushed the door shut, blocking out the cold wind, leaned against it, and pulled off his hat. “I’m not angry with you, Birdie.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes and I could see his cheeks had darkened. “Well, what’s going on? Why are you being like this?”

He cursed under his breath, his chest expanding with his rough inhale. “What I did…the way I acted…” He shook his head. “I’m…embarrassed.”

What? I took a step closer. “Why? You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“You caught me…” He cringed. “Doing…what I was. It wasn’t right. I should never have done that beside you.”

“I liked it,” I said, voice nothing more than a whisper.

His brows lifted. “You did?”

I hugged myself. “Yes.” This man—God, I’d never known anyone like him, never seen anyone like him. He was big and fierce and untamed, but there was a vulnerability under all of it that had my belly in knots, that made me want to know more about him.

That had me craving his touch like no one else.

“Watching you pleasure yourself.” I took a shuddery breath. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.” I lifted my eyes lifted and locked them with his. “You’re amazing, Hank.”

His nostrils flared, but he said nothing. His eyes dropped to his boots and I could see his chest rise and fall rapidly. Finally, his eyes lifted back to mine and the way they burned made my knees weak. “What” —he cleared his throat— “what was amazing was having your hands on me.”

Then he pulled the door open and walked out quickly, shutting it quietly behind him.

I stared at the door he’d just walked through and had to grab for the edge of the table as a wave of lust—God, need—like I’d never experienced in my life, washed through me. I hadn’t cooled down since I’d felt the heavy, thick weight of his cock in my hand, since I’d watched him come. And as the time passed and I waited for him to return, it only worsened. My skin seemed to get tighter, my breasts fuller, and despite the snow again falling outside, I was hot, flushed with need.

I ached, and I found myself squeezing my thighs together as I distractedly chopped carrots for the rabbit stew I’d made. I’d never used rabbit meat before, but I’d made stew, so I hoped it tasted good. It smelled good, not that I was hungry. Not for food anyway.

It was probably more than two hours before I heard the sound of boots crunching through the snow, before I heard the door rattle and Hank walked back in.

He didn’t say anything as he took off his boots, coat, and hat. But when he turned to me and his gaze hit mine, the need curled tighter in my belly so hard and fast, oxygen was shoved from my lungs.

“Smells good,” he said, voice low and rumbly.

I felt that, too. I squeezed my thighs together tighter. “You have…” I walked toward him, stopping a foot away, and even though he’d just come in from the cold I could feel the heat radiating off his big body. “You’ve got snow in your beard.” I reached up, because I wanted to touch him, and brushed it away. I took another step closer. “And in your hair.” I did the same to the hair at his neck where the hat hadn’t reached.

His nostrils flared, and I watched in awe as the giant in front of me shuddered, a full body quake that had him sucking in a harsh breath. The top of my head only hit mid chest, so when he took a jerky step toward me, his body colliding with mine, I stumbled back.

His arm shot out and he hooked me around the waist, yanking me into the muscular wall of his body. I gasped when I felt the hard length of his cock against my belly.

“Birdie,” he rasped out past windblown lips.

I tilted my head back, staring into the blazing heat of his eyes. “Tell me what you need, Hank,” I whispered.

The muscle at the side of his jaw jumped. “I can’t stop thinking about your hands on me.”

“M-me either,” I said, my breathy choppy and shallow.

His large hand came up to the side of my face, thick, long fingers gently skimming across my cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

I curled my fingers around his forearms, not wanting him to let me go. “So are you.”