Chapter 9
Rhylee
The door to Zane’s cabin swings shut behind us with a dull thud, sealing us off from the inky depths of the Silverpine wilderness. It’s temporarily vacant while the gruff mountain man helps to sort out the captured poacher with the authorities. For now, we have this place entirely to ourselves.
I lean back against the weathered wood, letting out a long, shuddering breath as the tension finally drains from my body. Tucker hovers before me, his broad frame seeming to take up the entirety of the modest dwelling.
”Rhylee...” He exhales my name in a low rasp that has gooseflesh prickling along my nape. ”What you did back there... the way you faced that depraved son of a bitch down without an ounce of hesitation...” His words trail off in a husky rumble, his jaw tensing.
”You don”t have to say anything, Tucker,” I murmur gently, reaching up to cup the sharp plane of his whiskered jaw.
“Yes, I do,” he rasps, his jaw tightening. “I’ve been running scared for a long time. But you… Christ, I”ve never seen anything so goddamn beautiful in my whole life. So wild and fierce and strong. The kinda partner I always dreamed of having, even if I was too chickenshit to admit it to myself.”
”Tucker...” I breathe, scarcely daring to believe this is real.
”I’m never letting you go,” he vows. ”You”re mine now, in every sense of the word.”
“And you’re mine,” I murmur. “We’re in this together now, like it or not.”
He pins me with a look of undisguised longing and fierce possession. ”Oh, I like it, Doc. More than you could possibly imagine.”
I sink against him, his powerful arms banding around my waist.
”You really did a number on that sick bastard,” he rumbles.
Despite the gravity of the situation we”ve narrowly escaped, a flush of undeniable pride kindles in my chest. I can”t resist rolling my eyes, even as a coy smile curves my lips.
”Well, he had it coming after threatening to gut you.”
”That”s my girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling against the sensitive curve of my neck. His stubbled jaw scrapes deliciously along my flushed skin. ”Fierce as a mountain lion when somebody threatens what”s hers.”
”You”re damn right,” I murmur, my words fanning against the thundering pulse at the base of his neck.
With those words hanging between us, he claims my mouth in a searing kiss that obliterates every last coherent thought. His big hands roam freely over my body with scorching urgency, tracing the flare of my hips before cupping my backside and hauling me flush against the rigid length now straining against his worn denim. I whimper into his mouth at the delicious friction, rolling my hips instinctively to increase that maddening contact.
”That”s it, gorgeous,” he rumbles in a low, approving rasp. ”No more holding back, not for either of us.”
His large hands, roughened from years of hard work, glide up my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. They pause at the hem of my shirt, and with a growl, he tugs it upwards. I eagerly lift my arms, allowing him to pull it off me.
His thumb traces the lace edge of my bra, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. He dips his head, his lips following the path his thumb had taken, the rough stubble of his beard adding an extra layer of sensation.
With a deft flick of his fingers, he unclasps my bra, the garment slipping away to reveal my breasts. Tucker”s breath hitches in his throat at the sight, his eyes reverently taking in every inch. He cups one breast in his hand, its weight filling his palm. His thumb brushes over my nipple, the peak hardening beneath his touch.
He dips his head, his mouth closing over my nipple. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue against my sensitive flesh has me gasping. He sucks and nips at the tender bud, the pleasure-pain sending a rush of wetness to my core. His hand moves to my other breast, mirroring the actions of his mouth.
I fumble with the hem of his shirt; I want to feel his skin against mine, to revel in his heat. With a growl, Tucker takes over, ripping the shirt off in one swift motion. My eyes drink in the sight of him, his muscles rippling beneath tanned skin, a smattering of golden hair dusting his chest.
Without a word, he scoops me into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sensation of his bare skin against mine is intoxicating, his heat seeping into me. He carries me over to the worn leather couch, his strides purposeful and sure.
Gently, he lowers me onto the cushions, my body bouncing slightly at the impact. His hands move to the waistband of my pants, his fingers teasing the skin just beneath. He takes his time, his eyes never leaving mine, the tension between us growing taut like a bowstring.
With agonizing slowness, he slides my pants down, my hips lifting off the couch to assist him. His breath hitches in his throat as he reveals my cotton panties, the fabric damp with my desire. He reaches out, his fingertips tracing the delicate material.
“I need to taste you,” he rasps in a tone that brooks no arguments. ”Need to bury my tongue so deep inside you, darlin”.”
The crude words send a thrill lancing through me, and I can only nod with shameless eagerness. Tucker”s lips curve in a wolfish grin before he sinks to his knees before me, pulling off my panties and lifting my legs onto his broad shoulders. The position leaves me vulnerable and exposed, but I trust him. I trust him with my body, with my heart.
His mouth descends on me, the heat of his breath against my sensitive flesh making me squirm. He takes his time, and I suck in a harsh breath at the first stroke of his tongue along my slickened folds, my fingers burying themselves in the thick strands of his hair.
”Oh God...” I can”t stifle the broken moan that spills from my lips as his tongue traces slow, languid circles around my clit. The pleasure is exquisite, each lick and suck pushing me closer to the edge.
His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he devours me. Broad, rasping strokes of his tongue lap up every fresh gush of my arousal before delving deeper. The roughness of his stubble against my inner thighs only adds to the sensations overwhelming me.
My hips undulate shamelessly as the tension inside me builds to a fever pitch. I”m reduced to a litany of mewling cries, my head tossing against the cushions.
And just when I fear I might shatter into a million pieces, Tucker”s wicked tongue thrusts deep inside me. That”s all it takes to send me arcing against him with a ragged scream as I detonate in the most cataclysmic release of my life.
Wave after wave washes over me as he works me through the shattering climax with merciless focus. By the time the final tremors subside, I”m left a quivering, boneless heap slumped against the cushions, my harsh pants echoing through the small room.
I blink dazedly, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as Tucker prowls up my limp form in one sinuous, predatory motion. His expression is one of pure masculine satisfaction and possession as he looms over me, braced on sinewy forearms.
”You are so fucking beautiful like this,” he rasps in a voice rendered husky with naked desire. ”Wrecked and sated, every sweet inch of you mine for the taking.”
I can only whimper softly in response, utterly incapable of forming words. Luckily, none are needed when his mouth slants over mine in a demanding kiss that steals what little breath remains in my oxygen-starved lungs.
I taste myself on his tongue as it delves deep, stroking and caressing in a blatant tease designed to rekindle the smoldering embers of my desire. It works with devastating effectiveness, my fingers scrabbling at the waistband of his jeans.
”Please,” I manage to rasp against the searing heat of his lips.
Tucker”s lips curve into a roguish grin as he pulls away from me, slowly straightening to his full height. My breath hitches in my throat at the sight of him, his body rippling with power and raw masculinity.
He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, the movement drawing my gaze to the impressive bulge straining against the denim. A rush of anticipation floods through me as he peels off the garment, inch by agonizing inch.
When he”s finally standing before me in nothing but his boxer briefs, I reach out to him. My fingertips trace the sculpted lines of his abs, the dips and valleys of his muscles. I curl my fingers into the waistband of his underwear, tugging him toward me. The look of hunger in his eyes only fuels my own desire, a heady cocktail of need and lust coursing through my veins. My breaths come in short, sharp pants as I tug his boxers down over his thighs, and he steps out of them.
And then he”s looming over me in all his rugged, naked glory, every sinewy muscle and battle-hardened plane cast in stark relief by the dancing firelight. My gaze travels hungrily over that magnificent form, lingering on the impressive length jutting from a thicket of dark curls.
I wrap my hand around him, his heat radiating into my palm. My fingers barely span his width, and I bask in the memory of him stretching me, filling me.
I stroke him in long, firm pulls, my other hand cupping the heavy weight of his balls. He throws his head back, a deep, guttural groan rumbling in his chest. The sound of it, the sight of him surrendering to my touch, sends a thrill of power through me.
Leaning forward, I swirl my tongue around the tip of him, tasting the salty bead of precum there. His hands fist in my hair, his hips bucking forward as he seeks more of my mouth.
I oblige him, taking him in incrementally, my jaw stretching to accommodate his width. I work him with my mouth and hand in tandem, the rhythm of it driving him wild.
”Fuck,” he growls, his grip on my hair tightening. ”You need to stop, or I”m gonna come in that pretty little mouth of yours.”
The idea of it, of him losing control at my mercy, sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me. But I heed his warning, pulling away with a soft pop of my lips.
He hauls me to my feet, his mouth slamming onto mine in a bruising, possessive kiss. My body molds against his, my curves fitting perfectly against the hard planes of his body.
”I need to be inside you,” he rasps, the words somehow both a plea and a demand.
”Yes,” I breathe, the sound a shuddering echo of my own desperate need.
He steps out of his boxers and then settles between my splayed thighs. He reaches between us, positioning himself at my entrance. I can feel his thick crown nudging against me, and I arch shamelessly, silently pleading for him to sheathe himself fully, to claim me in the most primal way possible.
Tucker simply smirks, that chiseled jawline taut with barely leashed restraint. Then, with one smooth thrust, he”s inside me, sheathing himself to the hilt in one searing stroke. My back bows with a ragged cry at the sheer fullness of him splitting me apart, that delicious ache radiating from my very core.
Tucker stills for a heartbeat, his forehead pressed to mine as we share ragged breaths. His eyes blaze into mine, and I tighten my inner muscles in a wicked squeeze, relishing his harsh groan of gratification.
”Christ,” he rasps in a tone of strained reverence. ”I could live inside this tight little pussy forever.”
With those words, he withdraws in one torturously slow glide, only to surge forward again with bruising force. I keen softly at the shuddering fullness, my nails raking down the taut muscles of his straining shoulders to spur him onward.
He sets a punishing cadence, each powerful snap of those lean hips driving me relentlessly toward oblivion. The cabin is soon filled with the harsh sounds of our exertion—my broken whimpers and mewls mingling with the low, rumbling groans torn from deep in his chest.
Every slick inch of me is claimed and possessed with each stroke of his thick length. My world narrows to this singular point of rapture, to the molten friction and delicious ache radiating from my core with each jarring impact.
Just when the swiftly building tension threatens to overwhelm me in another shattering climax, Tucker slows to an aching grind, his jaw clenching with visible strain.
”Not yet, gorgeous,” he rasps, his voice tight and strained. “I want that ass in my hands when I come.”
He grips my hips, flipping me over onto my stomach. The couch cushions cushion my fall, and I gasp as he pulls me up onto my knees, my back arching as he positions himself behind me.
His hands skim over the curves of my ass, kneading and squeezing, before one hand trails down to grip his shaft, guiding it to my entrance. I bite my lip in anticipation, feeling the head of his cock press against me, teasing and probing until finally, he’s inside of me again, deeper than before.
My head falls forward with a moan, my hands clenching the cushions for support. Tucker”s fingers dig into my hips as he sets a relentless pace, driving into me with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. Tucker”s breathing is ragged in my ear, his body slick with sweat as he pounds into me.
His hand slides around my hip, finding my clit and rubbing it in tight circles. His other hand grabs my ass, squeezing and kneading it as he continues to thrust into me. The combination of his cock filling me up and his fingers on my clit is almost too much to bear.
I start to thrust back against him, meeting him stroke for stroke. The sound of our bodies slapping together fills the room, mixing with our moans and groans of pleasure.
He leans forward, his chest pressing against my back as he whispers dirty words in my ear. “Does it feel good when I fuck you like this?”
”God, yes,” I pant, grinding against him. ”You feel so good inside of me. Don”t ever stop.”
He moans at my response, and then his hand leaves my clit. I whimper at the loss of contact, but there’s sudden pressure against my ass, and his finger slowly slides inside. I gasp at the sudden invasion, my body tensing for a moment before relaxing into the sensation. Tucker”s finger crooks inside of me, finding a spot that sends waves of pleasure crashing through me.
Tucker”s fingers dig into my hip as he starts to fuck me harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside of me with every thrust. I can feel my orgasm building, and I know I”m close. Tucker must sense it, too, because he starts to move faster, his finger pressing deeper as I push back against him, my face against the cushion, my mouth open in a silent wail of desperate pleasure.
“Tucker,” I whimper, my hips moving in time with his as he works me toward another orgasm.
He chuckles darkly. ”I can feel you getting close, baby,” he says, his voice low and husky. ”Are you ready to come for me again?”
I nod frantically, unable to form words as the pleasure builds and builds.
”That”s it,” he murmurs. ”Come for me, baby.”
I cry out as the orgasm hits me, my body shaking as I ride out the waves of pleasure. Tucker”s hand leaves my ass, and I can feel him start to move faster, his own release building.
He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back as he slams into me one final time, his cock pulsing inside of me as he comes. We both collapse onto the couch, our bodies slick with sweat and our breathing ragged.
He pulls out of me, and I feel the sudden emptiness, but he immediately wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. We lay there for a few moments, catching our breath and enjoying the afterglow of our lovemaking.
”Sweet Christ,” he rumbles, his gaze finding mine with unmistakable approval. ”You were made for this, weren”t you?”
I can”t resist the urge to tease him, arching one brow in a playful challenge. ”You know, for a rugged mountain man, you sure have quite the way with words, Tucker Rhodes.”
His deep laughter rumbles through the small cabin as he rolls to settle at my side in one fluid motion before gathering me against the solid wall of his chest. ”Only you bring out the poet hidden under all this grisly man-fur.”
”Oh, is that what you call this caveman look?” I tease, raking my fingers through the dense thatch of hair dusting his chest. ”I thought you were just too lazy to shave.”
”Watch it, woman,” he growls without any real heat, capturing my lips in a searing kiss that leaves me dizzy and breathless. ”You”ll pay for that kind of insolence later, mark my words.”
My pulse thunders at the dark promise laced in that rumbling baritone, a delicious shiver of anticipation chasing down my spine. But before I can formulate a suitable retort, Tucker”s expression softens into something far more tender.
”In all seriousness, Rhylee...” His fingers trail along the delicate curve of my jaw with surprising gentleness. ”I need you to know that what we”ve found together is more than just some fleeting primal attraction. You”ve become part of my life, my world, in a way I never imagined possible.”
His words steal the very breath from my lungs, rendering me momentarily speechless. I can only gaze at this extraordinary man who has somehow awoken parts of me I never knew existed.
”You don”t have to say it,” he continues in that low, rasping tone that never fails to ignite that delicious liquid heat unfurling within me. ”No matter what crazy adventures lie ahead, you”re stuck with me now, Doc. For as long as you”ll have this cantankerous mountain man by your side.”
I pretend to consider for a moment, trailing my fingertips in a light, teasing path down the clenching ridges of his abdomen. ”I don”t know,” I finally drawl. ”I could probably be persuaded to keep you around for a little while longer...”
His deep laughter fills the cozy space around us as he rolls me beneath him once more, those blazing eyes glittering with naked affection and want. ”In that case, Doc, allow me to make my case for being an indispensable part of this research team...”
I can only giggle in helpless delight as his talented mouth blazes a scorching path along the sensitive column of my throat. Because in this wild, untamed paradise that is my new extraordinary life, the only thing I crave more than the thrill of each primal adventure is the rugged, irresistible man providing them.