Our lips parted. Met again, short but powerful little presses, fiercely hot. My back, cushioned by layers of blankets, hit the floor. He was hunched over me, kissing me quick and hard, his hot breath filling me, our teeth clacking together for a second in our haste. And then his tongue found the tip of mine.
Ever since he brought me into the cabin, I felt as if I’d been slowly coming back to life, rising upward through freezing blackness to a world of light and color. I sped through the final few feet and surfaced in a warm, gasping rush. I felt the power race through my body: it was like being switched on for the first time. Not the first time since the river. For the first time in years.
He was brutal and primal, his kiss hard and demanding. And for every ounce of hardness, I matched him with softness, opening under him, welcoming him in. I went heady. I was never normally so...feminine. I’d spent my whole life trying to prove myself and most of that meant showing everyone how male, how aggressive I could be. But under Mason’s lips...all my layers of rock just collapsed inward to reveal melting pink marshmallow underneath. Every kiss, every breath, poured molten heat into me, turning me to liquid. And it really hit me for the first time that I was completely naked under the blankets.
I began to pant, pleasure radiating out from his kisses like little earthquakes and shuddering down through my entire body. Inside my bundle of blankets, I began to gently buck and twist, pressing my thighs together.
I opened my eyes for the first time as he started kissing his way down my cheek, then down the soft skin of my neck. Every touch of those hard lips sent a new burst of heat twisting down inside me. God, he was topless, every muscle hard, his huge body looming above me. I wanted to grab it, cling to it—but the blankets trapped my arms firmly against my sides. I was helpless. All I could do was be kissed.
His lips reached the base of my neck. My bare shoulder. They traced a scorching line of heat across my collarbone. And that’s all of me he could reach, with me wrapped up. He stopped kissing me and we just looked at each other, both of us breathless. He was astride me, one knee on either side of the bundle, his arms either side of my head, bent so that our faces were only inches apart. His lower half was pressed tight against me and, even through three layers, I could feel the hardness of his cock.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
He picked me up and carried me to the bed.
34
Kate
He laid me down with my head on the pillow but with me still wrapped up in the bundle of blankets. He climbed onto the bed with me and I went weak inside as the mattress sank under the hard, muscled size of him. He swung a knee over me, towering above me. I gulped, delighted. He was so big and I suddenly felt so...small.
He leaned down like a beast about to devour its meal and took possession of my mouth again. This time, the kisses were open-mouthed and hungry, both of us addicted to the taste of the other, wanting more and more. His big hands came down and cupped my cheeks, thumbs stroking over my forehead and then my cheekbones, caressing me right down to my shoulders as if he wanted to know every curve. But while he could touch me, I couldn’t touch him. I was still just a helpless bundle, my arms trapped by the blankets. It was frustrating and yet a part of me was thrilling at it. There’s something about being unable to do more than buck and wiggle.
Boone looked down the length of the bed. He did something with his bare feet and then—
I gasped as he straightened his legs, his hard ass standing out through his pants. What he’d done was gather the bottom of the blankets around his feet. The whole bundle, animal fur and all, started to slide slowly down my body. I began to pant. Both of us looked down at the edge of the blankets as they crept over my upper chest, tightening as they stretched to get over my breasts.
I swallowed. This huge beast of a man was going to strip me naked. My eyes traced over the tan bulges of his biceps, the thick, flattened breadth of his forearms. I could feel my nipples hardening as the moving fabric rubbed against them and I started to grind my ass against the blankets beneath me.
The blankets slowly slid, revealing me inch by inch. They became the equivalent of a strapless evening gown. A low cut evening gown. A traffic stopping evening gown. And Boone’s eyes ate up the soft, pale skin as it appeared, that deep blue scorching me until—
I drew in my breath as my nipples burst free. Boone’s eyes clouded with lust and he descended on me, strong hands cupping a breast each as his mouth dipped down to lick at my hardened buds. My arms were still trapped, so there was nothing I could do except arch my back and cry out, pressing myself to him, digging my shoulders into the bed as he lashed my breasts with his tongue and then sucked a nipple into his mouth.
His legs kept moving. The blankets slid down, baring my stomach, stopping just above my groin. My arms were free down to my wrists, now. I knew I probably could free my hands—
But I didn’t want to. Boone was squeezing and lifting my breasts in a slow rhythm, thumbs rubbing across my spit-wet nipples, while he kissed up and down my throat and between my breasts. I was drawing in quick, high little breaths, gazing up at him as he gazed down at me and—
My wrists made helpless little jerks against the blankets that held them, as if trying to get free...but not trying very hard. Being the passive one, for once, letting someone else take control, was really working for me.
His feet began moving again. The blanket slipped lower and my hands popped free. But at the same time, the soft, dark curls between my legs were uncovered and everything just...stopped. Boone froze, the blankets halting at my knees. He just knelt there, astride my legs, and he stared down at my sex with such intensity I was pinned. His gaze was so strong it was physical, a hot breeze that ran through the soft hairs and caressed my moist lips. I gasped.
“You’re beautiful,” he growled simply.
A warm swell of pride expanded out from that part of me. Then he was shoving the blankets the rest of the way off and I was naked under him. He slid a knee between my legs and parted my thighs and that made me finally abandon being passive and grab him, my hands finding his shoulders as I pulled him down for a kiss. God, he was like rock, like steel moving under heated skin.
He lowered himself between my legs and then the whole of that hard body was rubbing against me. The warm, solid weight of his chest stroked back and forth against my breasts. The hardness of his pelvis ground against my heated sex. The rhythm started to build, every part of me on fire, the pleasure circling and tightening inside. My hands roamed over his back, exploring the contours of him, delighting in the sheer size of him. I could feel his cock, hot even through his pants, against my inner thigh and...God, all the way up the crease of my hip—
I swallowed. And then forgot everything as he slid two fingers up inside me just as he kissed me again, our tongues dancing. Everything turned to hot, buttery pleasure and there was only the tightness and smooth friction of it and the hardness of his back under my hands and—
The pleasure reached a peak and my fingers clutched at his muscles. I squeezed my legs around his hand, rocking and moaning as I went over the edge, eyes screwed shut, panting up into his mouth.
I came back down to earth in time to see him kick off his pants and resettle himself between my legs. His cock was the same smooth tan as the rest of him, hard and primed and….
I swallowed again, butterflies in my stomach but heady with excitement. He started to lower himself and then paused. Shuffled forward on the bed.
I frowned. “What?”
“Shh,” he said. “Just wait a—”
He lifted my head and shoulders off the bed. Fiddled. And my hair unraveled from its braid and spilled down my naked back. Boone smoothed it, then moved back between my legs, his eyes filled with lust. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first met you,” he said thickly.
“You don’t like my braid?” I felt different, somehow. Softer.
“I love your braid. It drives me crazy.” He nudged my legs fu
rther apart. “But I want to see you like this. Undone.”
He lowered himself and I gasped as the tip of him brushed against me. He bent to kiss me again, paying service to my lips and breasts again as he rocked there and I got wetter and wetter. Then, in one long, slow push, he slid up inside me.
I drew in my breath, head craning back against the pillows, sliding on my newly-freed hair. My hands ran down his shoulders and the smooth curves of his biceps, then clutched at his wrists.
He went slow, laying kisses down my body as he pulled back. Then he went deep, our fingers knitting as he filled me, filled me, Oh God stretched me. My knees drew up, my toes dancing on the bedclothes and….
We were face to face and he was entirely buried in me, the root of him hard against me. I panted up at him. Just him being there, so hard and hot, was sending constant little flutters of pleasure out from where we met. But when he moved…my eyes closed and my hands clawed at his back, drawing him close as the friction turned to liquid silver inside me.
He began to move faster, faster, driving hard into me, his body pressing mine down into the bed. I was out of control. Every silken stroke lifted me towards my peak. Every brush of his hard chest against my nipples making me gasp and arch until I had to run my fingers down his body and over the smooth muscles of his hips, then over his ass. I couldn’t get enough of the size of him, the solidness of him, the raw, endless strength of him. I wanted to touch every inch of him. My hands slid between us, fingers skimming the base of his cock, and he growled.
Both of us were covered in a thin sheen of sweat now, every trace of cold forgotten. This wasn’t just sex. It was more raw, more wild, without all the thinking there would be in New York. And I loved it. It was simple and primal and I loved it. My hands locked around his waist. My ankles came up and hooked around his legs, pulling him to me. Undone? I was undone!
He looked down at me and grinned: a big, honest smile that made me light up inside...and flush a little. He’d released something inside me that I hadn’t even known needed to get out.
He leaned down and kissed me hard as his hips rose and fell in merciless rhythm, pumping me, pounding me, my pleasure building and building until I was a helpless, shuddering, damp-haired mess beneath him. I only broke the kiss when my climax hit, arching under him, my chin against his shoulder as I screamed his name.
We must have fallen asleep because I woke cuddled up to his sleeping body, my head on his chest, one arm and one leg hooked possessively across him. I flushed, remembering. I’d never been like that before. I’d never been so out of control. And yet instead of worrying me, it painted a big smile on my face.
Boone was flat out on his back, fast asleep. I laid my head down on him again, loving the warmth of him. I was just dropping off to sleep again when he twitched.
I slowly raised my head. I could see it starting again. Maybe that’s what had first woken me, the first flicker of pain and fear. I watched as it took control of him. This time, I could see more than just his face. I could see how every muscle tensed, his shoulders rising and his hands closing into fists. Whatever he was seeing, in his nightmare, he was getting ready to fight it: fight it for his life.
A chill went through me. I was lucky to have survived waking him, when we’d been out in the forest.
I slipped from the bed. The stove was still giving out a warm glow and, with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, it was comfortably warm. I couldn’t lie there next to him and watch him in pain and I didn’t want to risk waking him, either. So I explored.
I hadn’t really seen the cabin, the night before. In my semi-conscious state, the whole thing had been a blur. It was made of huge, thick logs, every crack sealed with what might have been mud or clay. The huge bed, its wood polished smooth with age, looked as if it had come straight from the Old West and must have been at least a hundred years old. Most of the other furniture—the chair, the small counter where he prepared his food—was handmade. There was no sign of running water or electricity. I turned in a slow circle. That’s it?! There was only one room and it couldn’t be more than fifteen feet on a side. I could see every inch of the cabin from where I was standing. Sure, that probably made it cozy and easy to heat, but how did he not go crazy, being shut up in here?
It was very...him. Everything was military-neat and things were sized big: the homemade chair, hewn from wood and then padded with animal skins, could have seated a rhino. But it was also brutal. Except for the huge, warm animal skin he’d wrapped around me when he was warming me, there was very little in the way of comforts. No TV? No books? What did he do, all day?
I eventually found a few personal items. Hanging next to the mirror was a pair of dog tags with his name on them. And beside those were a few faded photos showing guys in military fatigues. I barely recognized Boone, with short hair. He was grinning, his outstretched arms around a group of other Navy SEALs.
My stomach twisted. From what he’d said, everyone else in that photo was dead.
The mirror was tiny, a hand mirror he’d secured to the wall with a few nails. I stared at my long, loose hair. I never normally saw it like that: I took it down to wash it and to brush my hair each morning and then immediately braided it again. With it down, I looked like a different woman.
Dawn was breaking outside. I carefully cracked open the door, trying not to make a noise, and slipped out. The morning air was crisp and cold, my breath making dense little white clouds of vapor, but I was still warm from being cuddled up to Boone and there wasn’t much breeze. I could stand the cold for a few minutes. I made my way across the porch, pulling the blanket tighter around me. I was aware that I was naked underneath and the blanket only just came down low enough to be decent, but there was no one to see me. It actually felt very freeing, being sort-of nude, outdoors.
I sat down at the edge of the porch, gasping at the cold wood and pushing some of the blanket under me so I didn’t freeze my butt off. And then, as the sunlight started to break across the valley, I gasped.
It was beautiful. For the first time since I arrived in Alaska, I really saw that. Until now, I’d been so focused on how different it was to New York, how dangerous it was, that I hadn’t had a chance to appreciate it. But as the light flooded down the sides of the mountains and washed through the forests on the valley floor, the sheer scale of the place hit me. It was beautiful because it was so big, so wild. Not seeing roads and telegraph poles, knowing we were all alone out here, still freaked me out. But it also made it clean and unspoiled. And while it was the worst place in the world to be lost, it was the perfect place to lose yourself.
I started to see why he’d come here.
Footsteps behind me. I whipped around and saw Boone standing there, gazing down at me. He’d pulled on a pair of pants but his chest was bare. How is he not freezing?
Without words, he sat down beside me. I unwrapped the blanket and whipped it around both of us, wrapping us into a warm little cocoon. He put one massive arm around me and snugged me close and I gasped as my naked side pressed up against him.
For a few minutes we just sat there, watching the dawn. It should have been awkward. I barely knew him and, last night, we’d not only had sex but he’d unleashed something inside me I’d never experienced before. I should have been red-faced and mumbling about how that wasn’t me.
And yet...it wasn’t like that at all. When I’d dated guys from the bureau, the sex had always changed things. The next morning, I’d become a trophy, something to brag to their friends about: hey, I bagged myself a female agent! Or for the more competitive ones, it had been a way to put me down, to reduce me from a colleague to just a woman I’ve fucked. It was one of the reasons I hadn’t dated in almost a year.
But with Boone, there was none of that. There was no guilt, no shame, no games. His hand, as it roamed up and down my naked waist, told me that he still felt exactly the same about me as he had the night before. And the little smile on his lips when I caught his eye told me he wasn’t shock
ed by how, um...enthusiastic I’d been. He liked it.
I leaned my head on his shoulder. His other hand came up and stroked my hair back off my cheek and then smoothed it down over my naked back, under the blanket. Strange how different it felt, loose. He really seemed to like playing with it.
“Did you make the call yet?” I asked, gazing at the valley.
“Call?”
“The call for help.” When he didn’t respond, I turned to him. “That is why we came here, right?”
He stared at me sadly and shook his head. “There’s no phone here.”
I blinked at him. “But you have a radio, right?”
He shook his head again.
For a moment, our own situation was forgotten. “You live all the way out here without any form of communication?! Are you crazy? What happens if you get ill? What if you get injured and need help?”
He looked at me sadly and then snugged me closer to him. His big, warm hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking across it. “Kate,” he rumbled softly, “who would I call?”
Of all the things I’d seen of his life, of everything he’d told me, that was the one that hit the hardest. Of course. There wasn’t a damn person he could call for help, not if he wanted to stay off the authorities’ radar. He wasn’t just isolated physically, he’d cut himself off from every living soul.
I couldn’t help it. I threw myself against his chest and just hugged him under the blankets. He wrapped his arms around my naked back, pressing me to him, my breasts pillowing against him, and kissed the top of my head.
“Then what was the plan for us?” I asked at last. “Why even come here?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Sorry. Should have explained. When we were back at the plane, I was in a hurry. I just wanted to get you down off the mountain. I brought you here so we could rest up and get supplies, and get you into some proper clothes.” He pointed off into the distance. “There’s a town about three days’ walk from here.”
Alaska Wild Page 13