Chapter 9
Iset the last box down with a grunt, swiping my forearm across my brow as I take in the cozy mountain rental Emma”s secured for the next few months. Rustic beams crisscross the vaulted ceiling, and the scent of pine hangs thick in the air.
”That”s the last of it,” I announce, straightening to find Emma already in the midst of unpacking, a whirlwind of infectious energy.
She pauses, eyes sparkling with excitement as she sweeps her gaze around the open living area. ”Isn”t this place perfect? It has everything we need—a real fireplace, a big soaking tub, and just look at that view!”
Following her gaze, I can”t help but grin at the panoramic vista visible through the wall of windows, the jagged peaks and rolling evergreen valleys an achingly familiar sight. Having Emma here to share it all makes the splendor that much sweeter.
”It”s not bad, I suppose,” I tease, crossing the room to snake my arms around her waist from behind. She lets out a breathless giggle as I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, basking in her intoxicating floral scent mingled with the crisp mountain air. ”Although I seem to recall a certain city slicker who wasn”t so easily charmed by the Great Outdoors not too long ago.”
Emma lets out a derisive snort, leaning back into my embrace with a contented hum. ”Well, that was before I had an unfairly handsome mountain man to properly introduce me to all its splendor.”
Chuckling against the silken warmth of her skin, I trail a path of featherlight kisses along the graceful curve of her neck, relishing the way she shivers in my arms.
”Speaking of introductions,” she says, ”I”ve narrowed it down to three local businesses that could really use my expertise. I thought maybe you could put a good word in for me?”
”Oh yeah?” I ask. ”What businesses are those?
An adorable little crease forms between her brows as she launches into a detailed rundown. ”The Grizzly Growler needs a complete rebrand and social media overhaul. Then there”s Alpine Bliss Yoga and Wellness—they”ve got a solid following, but their online presence is practically non-existent. And Campfire Coffeehouse is doing okay, but with a few strategic—”
I can”t help but grin as she rambles on, her hands punctuating the air with those graceful gestures that never fail to captivate me. The passion in her voice and the determination in those expressive eyes are all so quintessentially Emma. It fills me with a profound sense of pride to see her embracing this new path that allows her to share her talents and drive without sacrificing her spirit to some soulless corporate machine. She”s finally doing it her way, thriving in a realm perfectly suited to those boundless reserves of ambition and creativity.
”You”re really set on this whole freelance marketing thing, huh?” I remark, settling onto the worn leather sofa and stretching my long legs out before me.
Emma”s features soften into an affectionate smile as she abandons her unpacking to cross the room and straddle my lap, lowering herself down. ”Well, when you know what you want, there”s no sense dilly-dallying, right?”
There”s something so intoxicating about having Emma here, in the heart of my world. Our contrasting lives have collided in a glorious explosion of passion and understanding, forging something new and wonderful and wholly irresistible.
I gaze up at her warmly. ”What else do you want?”
She takes my face in her hands. ”You know what else I want.”
My hands fist the fabric of her dress at her hips, exposing her creamy thighs where they nestle against my jeans. ”I want to hear you say it,” I rumble, my voice throaty with the sudden arousal.
Emma”s breath hitches as my calloused palms glide along the silken expanse of her thighs, inching the soft fabric of her dress higher. ”I want you, hoss,” she murmurs.
A low growl rumbles from somewhere deep in my chest as I haul her more firmly against me, reveling in the exquisite friction of her body atop mine. ”You”ve got me, princess.”
My hands grip Emma”s hips as our kisses grow fevered and desperate. Her nimble fingers work at the buttons of my shirt, pushing the fabric aside to trail blazing paths along the hard planes of my chest.
Unable to resist it anymore, I make quick work of shucking her dress over her head, leaving her glorious curves on full display, clad only in scraps of lace and cotton that do little to conceal her arousal.
”Christ, you”re beautiful,” I rasp, drinking in the sight of her with reverent appreciation as my hands roam the silken expanses of her ass and hips and thighs.
Emma smirks, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leans in to trail open-mouthed kisses along the corded column of my throat. Tangling my fingers in her chestnut tresses, I guide her lips back to mine for another drugging kiss.
Impatient hands and seeking mouths soon render the last of our clothes an afterthought, tossed haphazardly aside. Emma lets out a soft, keening whine as I palm her ample breasts, rolling her nipples into stiff peaks between my fingers.
”Caleb, please...” she pants, her hips grinding against mine.
Growling against the tender hollow of her throat, I reverse our positions in one fluid motion, pinning her beneath me on the worn leather cushions. Emma”s eyes blaze with unbridled hunger as I trail a path of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the valley between her breasts and along her stomach.
She writhes and whimpers as my lips and tongue worship every dip and swell, until finally, I”m nestled between her thighs. This position has become second nature to me over the last few weeks since we reunited. There’s nothing I love more than making her scream.
”You”re so damn perfect,” I rumble, dragging my teeth along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
My fingers grip her thighs, spreading her wider for me as I gaze up at her. Emma”s chest heaves, her nipples pebbled and begging for attention.
”I want you to touch yourself, Emma,” I say, my voice rough with desire. ”I want to watch you play with those perfect tits while I make you come.”
Her cheeks flush with embarrassment, but the way her pupils dilate tells me she”s into it. She hesitates for a moment, then slowly brings her hands up to her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them gently.
I dip my head back between her thighs, my tongue pressing against her clit as I watch her pinch and roll her nipples between her fingers.
”Oh, fuck, Caleb,” she moans, her hips grinding against my face. ”That feels so good.”
I chuckle, the sound low and primal, before I let my tongue trace a slow, agonizing path along her slit. She tastes sweet and intoxicating, and I can”t get enough. My tongue flicks and swirls around her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her squirm and moan.
”Caleb, oh God, don”t stop,” she pleads, her voice barely above a whisper.
I have no intention of stopping. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that sweet spot, and she gasps, her body already convulsing around me as she teeters on the brink.
”I want to hear you, Emma,” I say, my voice muffled against her pussy. ”I want to hear you scream my name as you come.”
She whimpers, her fingers working her nipples harder as I suck and flick her clit with my tongue. And then, with a cry that echoes through the room, she comes, her body spasming and trembling as she shatters beneath me.
I lap at her, savoring every last drop, until she collapses against the cushions, boneless and spent.
But I”m not done with her yet.
Rising over her with a predatory gleam, I drink in the vision of her sprawled out before me—tousled hair fanned across the cushions, skin glowing with a fine sheen of perspiration, and lips parted on harsh pants. So damn beautiful, inside and out.
”Caleb...” The ragged plea in her voice is my undoing.
I grip her thighs, spreading her wider for me as I position myself at her entrance. She”s so wet and ready for me, and I can”t wait a second longer to be inside her. With a low, possessive growl, I sheath myself in one powerful thrust, burying myself to the hilt in her welcoming heat as she cries out.
I start to move, pulling out and thrusting back in with slow, deliberate strokes. I want to feel every inch of her, to savor this moment and make it last as long as possible.
But Emma has other ideas. She wraps her legs around my waist, urging me to go faster, harder. I comply, my hips snapping against hers as I bury myself inside her over and over again.
The sounds of our bodies slapping together, of our moans and groans, fill the room, and it”s the most erotic thing I”ve ever experienced. I can feel my orgasm building, but I”m not ready to let go yet. I want to make her come one more time before I do.
I hook my arms under her knees, throwing her legs over my shoulders, and shift the angle of my thrusts. She gasps, her eyes flying open as I hit that spot deep inside her.
”Oh, fuck, Caleb,” she cries out, her fingers digging into my biceps. ”Right there, don”t stop.”
I don”t. I keep up the relentless pace, grinding my hips against hers as I chase her pleasure. I lose myself in her—the taste of her skin, the scent of her arousal, the exquisite heat of her surrounding me as we climb toward that dizzying precipice together.
And when she comes, it”s without warning, her body convulsing around me as she screams my name.
I can”t hold back any longer. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, my teeth scraping against her skin as I let go. I come harder than I ever have before, my cock pulsing inside her as I ride out the waves of pleasure.
For long, languid moments, the only sound is our mingled breaths slowly evening out. I press lazy kisses to Emma”s damp hairline, relishing the lingering tremors that still wrack her body in the aftermath of her orgasm.
Gradually, the world beyond our tangled limbs begins to bleed back into focus, and in that moment, it all feels so viscerally right—like this rugged, untamed paradise is precisely where we were always meant to be together.
”Wow,” Emma finally breathes, tilting her head to gaze up at me with sparkling emerald eyes and a sated smile curving those full, swollen lips.
A deep, rumbling chuckle rolls up from my chest, my arms tightening around her. ”That”s one word for it.”
I trace idle patterns along the smooth expanse of Emma”s back. Her cheek pillows against my chest, and I can feel the curve of her smile as she presses a languid kiss to my sweat-dampened skin.
”You know...” she begins, her voice taking on a thoughtful lilt, ”As terrifying as it was to let go of the path I thought I was meant to follow, I”ve never felt more certain about anything than I do about us.”
A rush of profound tenderness swells in my chest at her earnest declaration—a bone-deep knowing that this remarkable woman is the other half of my everything. I tug her up until she”s cradled fully atop me once more, her face in my calloused palms.
”You and me, we”re a force of nature, you know that?” I murmur, losing myself in the sparkling jade depths of her eyes. ”Unstoppable.”
Emma”s breath hitches at the undisguised hunger in my gravelly vow, her pupils dilating and lips parting on a ragged inhale. For an endless, heated moment, we remain suspended in that delicious tension, the air between us thrumming and alive with the promise of so much more to come.
Then her mouth is crashing over mine in a desperate kiss brimming with unrestrained passion and hope and the certainty that this—us—is just the beginning. I surrender to the riptide of sensation, letting the world beyond our tangled limbs fade into blissful obscurity as we lose ourselves in the sweeping, all-consuming current of each other once more.
Whatever the future may hold, wherever this path leads, I know without a shred of doubt that we”ll face it head-on, hand in hand.
Together.
Two halves of the same wild, unstoppable whole.