Chapter 7
Jess
For a moment—one perfect, crystalline moment—I forgot about the storm.
Forgot about the terror of being lost. Forgot about everything except the feeling of being held by this man who'd risked his life to find me.
Then reality crashed back in, and with it, the full awareness of what we'd done last night.
Multiple times.
Memories tumbled together: his desperate claiming in the sleeping bag, the way he'd taken me again and again, each time more possessive than the last. The things he'd said and the promises he'd made about breeding me, keeping me, making me his forever.
The things I'd agreed to while he was buried inside me.
Oh God.
"Stop thinking so loud," Sam murmured against my neck, his voice gruff with sleep. "I can hear your brain spinning from here."
"I'm not."
"You are." His arm tightened, pulling me more firmly against his chest. "You're already trying to logic your way out of this. Convince yourself it was just survival instincts or adrenaline or whatever excuse your lawyer brain is cooking up."
He knew me too well. Had learned to read me too quickly. "Look at me, Jess."
I turned in his arms. He saw straight through every defense I tried to build.
"This wasn't just survival," he said, his hand coming up to cup my face. "This wasn't adrenaline or fear or temporary insanity. This was me claiming what's mine. And you letting me. Because you know you're mine just as much as I know I'm yours."
"We barely know each other."
"Bullshit." His thumb traced my lower lip, making me shiver despite the warmth of the sleeping bag. "I know. And I know that last night, when I was inside you, you finally felt alive for the first time in years."
"I don't know how to do this," I whispered.
"Do what?"
"This. Us. I don't know how to be with someone who sees me this clearly." My voice cracked. "What if the real me isn't worth keeping?"
A fierceness flashed in his eyes. He rolled me beneath him in one smooth motion, settling his weight between my thighs, letting me feel how hard he already was again.
"The real you," he said, "is the bravest, most stubborn, most incredible woman I've ever met.
The real you survived a blizzard, set up a perfect tent, and didn't panic when you were alone on a mountain that kills people who know what they're doing.
" His hips pressed forward, just enough pressure to make me gasp.
"The real you took my cock last night and begged for more.
Told me you wanted my baby. Chose me over every safe, logical option your brain was screaming at you to take. "
"Sam—"
"You are worth everything. And I'm keeping you."
His tongue swept into my mouth like he owned it, like he had every right to take whatever he wanted from me. And I gave it to him. Gave him everything, arching into his body and kissing him back with all the desperate hunger I'd been suppressing for years.
"I should check the weather," he murmured against my lips, even as his hand slid down to cup my breast over the thermal layers we'd put back on during the night.
"Okay." I didn’t want him to stop touching me.
"In a minute." He thumbed my nipple, circling it until it peaked hard and aching. "First I need to remind you who you belong to."
The possessiveness in his voice made me wetter than I'd ever been. I wanted to spread myself open for him and let him claim every part of me. He lowered his head to take my nipple into his mouth.
I cried out, as pleasure shot straight to my core. His mouth was hot and wet and demanding, sucking hard enough to make me squirm, then soothing with gentle licks that drove me even more insane.
"Sam, please—"
"Please what?" He switched to my other breast, giving it the same maddening attention.
"Keep going," I gasped. "Don't stop. Please don't stop."
"That's my good girl." His hand slid down my stomach. "Lift your hips."
I obeyed without thinking. The size difference, the power imbalance, should have made me feel vulnerable. Instead, I felt cherished. Protected. Safe enough to be completely exposed.
"Look at you," Sam said, his voice reverent as his eyes traveled over every inch of my body. "Look at these perfect curves. These soft thighs. This beautiful pussy that's already wet for me."
His hand slid between my legs, and we both groaned when he found how ready I was.
"Soaked," he growled. "You're fucking soaked for me, baby. Even after last night, even after I filled you three times, you still want more."
"Yes," I admitted, past the point of pretending otherwise. "I want more. Want you. Always want you."
"Always." He pushed two fingers inside me, making me gasp at the stretch. "That's what this is, Jess. Not temporary. Not just while we're trapped together. Always."
He worked his fingers inside me with devastating skill, finding spots that made me writhe and moan. His thumb found my clit, circling with just enough pressure to make me desperate but not enough to push me over.
"Sam, I need—"
"I know what you need." He pulled his fingers out, and I whimpered at the loss, but anticipation made my whole body clench. Then he was pushing inside, that perfect stretch and burn. I was complete in ways I'd never experienced before.
"Fuck," he groaned, his hips pressing forward until he was buried to the hilt.
He started moving then, deep slow strokes.
I felt every inch of him, aware of every place we were connected, every point where his body claimed mine.
His hand slid down to grip my hip, angling me so each thrust hit that perfect spot inside. "I've got you. Always got you."
The pleasure built with each stroke, winding tighter and tighter. My nails dug into his back, trying to anchor myself as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.
"That's it," Sam encouraged. "Take what you need. Use me to get there."
I rocked against him, chasing the orgasm that was building like a storm.
His thumb pressed hard on my clit again, and I came apart.
The climax hit me like a wave, crashing over me with an intensity that made stars explode behind my eyelids.
I heard someone screaming and dimly realized it was me, crying out his name as my body convulsed around him.
Another wave hit before the first finished, doubling the pleasure until I couldn't tell where one orgasm ended and another began.
Then Sam was there with me, burying himself deep and groaning my name as he filled me with his release.
I felt the hot pulse of his cum inside me, marking me, claiming me in the most primitive way possible.
"Mine," he growled, still moving, working his seed deeper. "You're mine, Jess. Say it."
"Yours," I gasped, still shaking with aftershocks. "I'm yours, Sam."
"Damn right you are."
He collapsed beside me, pulling me into his arms and keeping us connected. His hand splayed possessively over my lower stomach.
"Keep my cum inside you as long as possible," he murmured against my hair. "Want to make sure it takes."
A shiver of dark pleasure ran through me at his words. The breeding talk should have scared me. Instead, I could imagine a life I'd never let myself want.
"We should check the weather," I said, even though I didn't want to move.
"Yeah." But he didn't let me go. "In a minute."
We lay there in comfortable silence, his hand drawing lazy circles on my skin, both of us knowing that checking the weather meant facing reality. Meant figuring out what happened next.
"Sam?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"What if... what if this doesn't work? What if we get back to the real world and this—" I gestured between us. "—doesn't make sense anymore?"
He pulled back to look at me, his expression serious. "You really think what we have only makes sense in a survival situation?"
"I don't know. We're so different. I'm a corporate lawyer from Manhattan. You're a mountain guide who lives on a mountain. How would that even work?"
"You asking me or telling me it won't?" His jaw was tight, a muscle ticking.
"I'm asking."
He relaxed slightly. "It works because we both know what it feels like to drown.
You were drowning in your corporate life.
I was drowning in adrenaline addiction, using danger to feel alive because I was too scared to actually live.
" His hand cupped my face. "But with you?
I don't need to jump off cliffs to feel my heartbeat. I just need to look at you."
My throat closed up with emotion. "Sam—"
"I'm not saying it'll be easy. I'm not saying you should quit your job and move to Vermont tomorrow." He kissed me softly. "But I am saying this is real. What we have is real. And I want to figure out how to make it work. If you do."
"I do," I whispered. "I want that too."
"Good." His smile was devastating. "Now let's check this weather and see how long I have before I have to share you with the outside world again."
He reluctantly pulled out of me—both of us groaning at the loss—and we dressed quickly in the cold air. Sam unzipped the tent vestibule and looked outside.
"Storm's calmed enough for travel," he reported. "I can get you back to down the mountain on the ATV."
"Okay." I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
He turned to look at me, reading my expression easily. "Or..."
"Or?"
"Or I take you to Eagle's Nest. My cabin. It's closer, and you could relax a bit before going back. Hot shower, real food, comfortable bed." His eyes held mine. "Spend the day with me, Jess. In my space. Let me show you what my world really looks like."
Going back to base camp meant facing reality—Belinda, my coworkers, the life I was supposed to return to. Going to his cabin meant delaying that confrontation. Meant more time in this bubble where nothing existed except us.
"Yes," I said before I could overthink it. "Take me to your cabin."
His smile was brilliant. "Your chariot awaits."