Page 34 of Knotted by the Mountain Man Dragon

Mara has not stopped looking at me.

She hasn’t said anything else. She’s just looking at me with an expression I can’t fully read, her wet hair dripping on the seat, her hands gripping her laptop bag, and when I park in front of the cabin she gets out and walks to the front door and stands there until I come up behind her.

She turns.

“Mark me,” she says.

My heart stops.

“Mara…”

“I know what it means. Permanent bond. Scent fusion. I’ll feel you and you’ll feel me and it can’t be undone.”

“It can’t be undone,” I repeat, because she needs to hear herself say it.

“I don’t want it undone.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are bright. “I came to this town by accident. My car died and I ended up in your garage and I haven’t wanted to leave since. Three days, Cage. Three days and I can’t imagine going back to a life where I don’t wake up in your bed.”

“Mara…”

“You hid my car because you were afraid I’d leave. I’m telling you I’m not leaving. But I need you to stop protecting me from how fast this is and just… let it be.” She takes a breath. “Mark me. Make it permanent. I choose you.”

I have waited my entire life for someone to say those words.

I don’t make her say them twice.

I pick her up. I carry her inside. Up the stairs. Into my room. Our room.

I don’t lay her down gently.

I put her on the bed and I’m on her before she stops bouncing, my mouth on her throat, her jaw, her lips. She’s soaked from the rain and I’m in old clothes from the shop that smell wrong, smell like nothing, and my dragon can’t stand it. He needs her scent. He needs her skin. He needs her under me and around me and full of me before the adrenaline from almost watching a tree crush her finishes eating through my sanity.

“Clothes off,” I growl against her mouth. “Everything. Now.”

She pulls at her wet sweater and I lose patience and grab the hem and yank it over her head. Her bra is next. I rip the clasp apart and drag it off her arms and her breasts spill free, rain-chilled and flushed, and I cover them with my hands and squeeze and she arches into me with a moan that goes straight to my cock.

“You almost died.” I’m not gentle with her jeans. I pop the button, drag the zipper, pull them down her legs along with her panties in one rough motion. “A tree almost fell on you and I almost watched you die.”

“But I didn’t.” She reaches for my shirt. “Because you—”

“Because I would level this entire mountain before I let something touch you.” I pull the shirt over my head. Shove the jeans down. I’m already hard, have been since she put her hand on my dragon’s jaw and said there you are. “You understand that? There is nothing on this earth I won’t destroy to keep you safe.”

“I know.” Her eyes are dark and steady. “Now stop talking about it and fuck me.”

Something inside my chest detonates.

I grab her thighs and spread them wide and bury my face between her legs. No buildup. No teasing. My tongue flat and hard against her clit, two fingers driving inside her, and she screams and grabs my hair and I lap her up like I’m starving because I am, because twenty minutes ago I watched a hundred-foot fir fall toward the only thing in the world that matters to me and the terror is still burning in my bloodstream and the only way to put it out is to taste her alive on my tongue.

She comes fast. Hard. Her thighs clamping around my head, her back bowing off the mattress, my name ripping out of her throat.

I don’t stop.

I keep going. Through the aftershocks, through the oversensitivity, through her hands pushing at my head and then pulling me closer. I push a third finger inside her and she gasps and I feel her stretch around me and I curl all three and press my tongue against her clit and she sobs.

“Cage, I can’t… it’s too much…”

“You can.” I pull back just enough to speak against her. “You can and you will. One more. Give me one more before I’m inside you.”

”I can’t…”