11. Lily
LILY
W e don’t use the truck, but that doesn’t mean we’re not going far.
And I’m proved right when we hike higher, with me perched on his back, winding paths only he seems to know, until two long hours later, the trees part and a shallow pool shimmers in the sun.
Water trickles down smooth rocks, green moss feathering the edges. It looks untouched... sacred.
Breathtakingly beautiful.
He sets the pack down, pulls out food. Bread. Jerky. Apples. We have a mid-morning picnic at the edge of the pool, toes dipping in the cool water.
But he’s quiet, still brooding, his eyes often fixed on the horizon instead of me.
I chew my apple, then glance at him. “Do you regret telling me?”
His jaw tightens. Then he shakes his head. “No.”
A few seconds tick by, heavy and loaded.
Then he flicks a furtive glance at me, and there’s vulnerability there he can’t quite hide fast enough. “Do you regret hearing it?”
My chest clenches.
Abandoning my apple, I crawl into his lap. He makes room for me, but he still tries to avoid my eyes. I cup his face in both hands, force him to look at me.
“Do you think that not having any family, being alone in the world, makes me lesser?” I whisper.
“The fuck are you talking about?” he grumbles, voice rough. “Of course it doesn’t. You’re—” He breaks off, looks away for a second, then pierces me with a ferocious look, like he’s drilling his next words into me. “You’re perfect.”
A lump wedges in my throat. “I’m not, but thank you.”
He looks like he’s about to argue, but I brush my thumb over his wide, soft mouth.
“I know it was difficult, telling me what you did yesterday. But just like my past and lack of family doesn’t define who I am today, neither did where you came from or who sired you.
It... it took me a long time to understand that. ”
A rumble rises from his chest, deep and dangerous. I know exactly what triggered it—the faintest reference to Brandon.
I caress his jaw until the growl eases. His grip on my hips loosens—not all the way, never all the way—but just enough to remind me he’s listening.
My Bear.
The thought swells inside me, warm and startling.
It shouldn’t feel so good to take ownership of a man I’ve known mere weeks. But just as he can’t seem to help his body’s reaction to me, I can’t help the way my heart leaps when I think of him as mine.
Maybe I don’t need to leave.
Yet.
The thought roots quietly inside me, surprising and stubborn.
I shake my head, focus on finishing what I need to say. “We’re not who the world dictates we should be, Bear. We decide that. You decide that. And the people who betrayed you... that’s on them. Not you.”
His eyes narrow, troubled.
“But shutting yourself away,” I continue gently. “Isn’t that letting them win?”
For a second, I think I’ve reached him.
But then his mouth crashes down on mine, hard, hungry, silencing the question with heat.
I melt into it, the debate burning away under the fire of his kiss.
He lays me back on the grass, his big body covering mine, pinning me deliciously. His hand fists in my hair as his mouth devours mine. My thighs fall open, welcoming the weight of him pressing hard against me.
He denied me... us ... last night, and I’m insanely ravenous for him.
“Bear—” I gasp.
“I need you, Lily,” he croaks, his voice barely coherent as his fingers find me wet and wanting.
“Yes!” I pull my T-shirt off, and he falls on my heaving tits, licking and biting until my cries fill the trees.
Until I’m a sopping mess beneath his fingers.
I watch, as fascinated today as I was the first time, as he wraps his massive mitt around his cock, using my juices to stroke himself, ensuring he’s well-lubricated enough before he notches himself at my entrance.
Then he looks into my eyes. Imploring. Desperate.
“Need you to take another inch,” he rasps against my lips. “Give me another inch, petal. Be my good girl.”
I whimper, clutching his shoulders, bracing myself. “Yes, Bear.”
And then he pushes deeper, filling me, stretching me to the edge of pain.
I cry out, arching under him, and his roar shatters through the mountain air. His pleasure floods out raw and primal as he praises me, voice shaking. “That’s it. My pretty, perfect girl. Taking my monster cock so fucking beautifully.”
He fucks me hard and fast, his heavy balls slapping my ass, insane lust and determination etched on his face. His every grunt and my every cry is like the mountain’s own poignant and beautiful symphony.
“Don’t need to leave this mountain. Not for anything. Not if I have this tight, gorgeous cunt stretched around me. Not if I have you, Lily. Need nothing else.”
It feels like a final vow, cleaved by his axe into stone.
“Nothing but you.”
It should’ve terrified the shit out of me. But all it did was make me gush, spread my thighs wider for my Bear.
Scream with piercing joy as the world tilted and my body trembled.
I come apart with him, clinging, shattering.
When it’s over, I collapse against his chest, breathless, boneless, dizzy.
He kisses my temple, murmurs something low and possessive I can’t even process.
We lie there for a long while with the sun warming us and the sound of the water trickling nearby.
But when I glance up, I catch him staring at me.
And it’s not just lust in his eyes.
It’s something pensive.
Heavy.
Like he’s weighing my words.
Maybe finding grains of truth in them, even if he won’t admit it yet.
Bear’s mountain is full of secrets.
Surprise clearings, streams, meadows bursting with wildflowers.
Bear’s shown me some, but this view... this one repeatedly steals my breath.
A rise high above the valley, the cabin just a speck below, the air so crisp it feels like drinking glass after glass of cold water.
And then there’s him.
My Bear, axe in hand, chopping wood like he was born to do it.
As usual, he brought me out after breakfast. But today we turned it into a game of how many logs he can split in one minute.
And what started as me teasing him for being cocky has turned into something else entirely.
Something hotter.
I lounge back on the blanket in nothing but his boxers and his socks.
I lost my T-shirt in the last round, and I haven’t seen my bra in weeks.
My nipples pebble in the morning air, and I arch my back and make no effort to hide them. I like the way his eyes cut to me between vicious swings, like he’s punishing the wood just to keep from pouncing on me.
He slams the axe down, splintering the final log, chest heaving, sweat slicking every inch of his muscles. “That’s time,” he growls.
“How many?” I tease, biting my lip.
“Enough.” His grin flashes, wolfish. “I win.”
With a laugh, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, slide them down my hips, toss them aside. His eyes darken instantly, his chest expanding like he’s trying to drink me in.
“Open those lovely legs, baby,” he orders thickly. “Show me my favorite petal.”
I prop up my feet, then slowly part my thighs, teasing him by stretching out the moment. He groans like a wounded animal when they finally fall open, the sun bathing slick folds already sopping with our naughty game.
His chest rises and falls rapidly as his eyes latch onto my pink, glistening pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.”
I rest back on my elbows, cupping my breasts and slowly teasing my nipples. Sensation shoots fireworks through my bloodstream, and I moan. “Hmm, I am, but we’re not done with the game.” I nod at his boxers and the obscene erection tenting the fabric. “You still have clothes on.”
He growls, then reaches blindly for the next log from the pile next to him.
“Next round,” I murmur, spreading my thighs just a little wider, shivering as a cool breeze washes between my wet lips.
His knuckles whiten on the axe handle.
He chops. One, two, three clean splits. Sweat drips down his temple, gliding over his jaw, into the thick hair on his chest.
But then... I pull on my nipples, give a soft little whimper. And he slips. The axe head bites too shallow.
“Uh-oh,” I sing, rolling my nipples between my fingers. “Looks like you lose, Bear.”
His gaze locks on me, a visible wet patch appearing against his boxers. His voice drops to a rasp. “Sure. Fine.”
“Take ’em off, then.”
Slowly, he shoves his boxers down and steps out of them, naked, magnificent, and monstrously thick—so thick it makes my pussy and everything inside me ache, tremble at the thought of most of that buried in my poor, grateful pussy.
“One more round,” I challenge.
His growl rumbles through the air.
He chops once, twice, then stops cold when I slide my fingers between my thighs, circling my clit as I watch him.
With a grunt, he throws the axe aside as trails of juicy pre-cum drop from his cock to the forest floor. “ Jesus fucking Christ . You fucking win, petal.”
“So I get to name my prize?” I say, eyes wide.
“Yes, goddammit.”
I crook my finger at him. “Come here. Lie down.”
His brows arch, but he obeys, prowling to me, then sinking to stretch out on the blanket, huge and gorgeous, sunlight turning the sweat on his skin to gold.
My prize.
The second he’s on his back, I crawl over him, straddling his hips, palms skimming his chest.
“Did I tell you how sexy you look wearing only my socks?” he grunts, his hands reaching for me. “They’ll look even better squatting next to my head.”
“Uh-uh, no distractions.” I catch his behemoth arms and attempt to place them above his head.
His smirk is sinful when he immediately raises his head and licks one budded nipple. I gasp and pull back, but he finishes the task and places his hands beneath his head.
“This how you want me, baby?”
“Yes, thank you.” My voice is prim, a mocking contrast to how un-prim the situation is, especially with his anaconda cock thumping against my ass.
But I have a purpose to claiming my prize—one I need to implement before the need rampaging through us both takes over.
I trace scars I’ve only caressed briefly before: jagged lines across his ribs, pale marks on his thighs, one long thick scar slashing down his shoulder.
“What happened here?” I whisper, brushing it with my lips.
He stiffens. For a long moment, I think he won’t answer. But then he exhales, voice gravelly. “That one ended me.”
I glance up. His eyes are on the sky, not me.
“Pay-per-view match,” he says slowly. “They booked me against a guy who didn’t care if we walked away breathing.
My manager pushed me into it, said the money was too good, that I’d be a fool to refuse it.
I went in half-injured already from another bout that didn’t go according to plan.
He knew it. Didn’t care. Chair shot to the shoulder, followed by a fall from the top rope.
Heard the pop before I hit the mat. Everything tore.
Crowd roared like it was a show. But I knew. ” His jaw flexes.
“Career over in one night.”
My chest aches. I press my mouth to the scar again, reverent. “I’m sorry, Bear.”
He finally looks at me, eyes raw. “Don’t be. I should’ve walked away sooner. Gut told me to. I just didn’t know how.”
I lower myself, kissing every scar I can find, mapping his pain with my mouth. By the time I reach his cock, thick and heavy against his stomach, his breath is ragged.
“Petal...” His voice cracks. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” I whisper, sliding down until I can take him in my hand, stroking slow, deliberate. “You’ve carried all this hurt alone for too long. Let me carry some too.”
His eyes stay steady on mine, but I see the question in them.
For how long?
I swallow and drop my gaze, raise my hips, and tease his length with my wetness without penetration.
His groan tears out of him when I reach down without stopping the roll of my hips, grasp the top half, and stroke as I ride. Stroke and ride, stroke and ride.
“Jesus... fuck ... that’s so fucking good.”
After a minute, I shuffle down, put my mouth on him, licking the head and groaning at the taste of my own juices, then sliding my mouth down his length as far as I can take him.
His hand fists in my hair, his hips jerking.
“Fuck, flower,” he rasps. “You’re gonna ruin me so damn good.”
I hum around him, suck and lick until I sense him at breaking point.
Then climb back up his body, guiding him between my thighs. He looks at me like I’m salvation and sin wrapped together.
“Shall we try for another inch, Bear?” I whisper, echoing his words.
His growl shakes the earth as he thrusts deep, filling me, stretching me, splitting me wide open until I scream. He catches my cry with his mouth, kissing me hard as he drives deeper.
I ride him, nails raking down his chest, both of us lost to the rhythm and the heat.
“Most perfect little cunt in the whole damn world,” he grunts between thrusts. “Gonna come so hard for it. Fill it up good. You want that, baby?”
I throw my head back, tears filling my eyes at the unspeakable pleasure. “Yes! God, yes, fill me up, Bear!”
His hands grip my hips, his roar echoing through the trees when he explodes inside me, filling me with warm streams of cum until it drips between us, until it pulls my own climax down with his.
When I collapse against his chest, breathless and shaking, he holds me tight, his lips pressed to my hair.
I’m replete. At peace. So at peace.
That... maybe I’ll never want to leave this mountain.
Not when he looks at me like that. Not when he gives me every broken, beautiful piece of himself.