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Setting my handgun on the table, I then dump my jacket on the couch, and in a minute, I’m down to my boxers. I flip my dog tags around my neck and lie next to her. Skin to skin contact is the best way to get someone warm, and with the fire raging next to us, sweat is already dripping down my spine while the cabin slowly turns into a sauna.
I caress her face, watching as the flames hit her delicate features. She has dark, strong brows, a tiny, upturned nose, and plump lips. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I push her against my scarred body. She stirs in my arms and rests her cold fingers against my chest, murmuring something I can’t make out. I try to keep my gaze from wandering when she lays her head on my arm, and I have to stifle an animal-like groan when her nipples tease my chest. She’s breathtaking, and for a moment there I forget to breathe.
Her back is to the fire, and slowly, the color returns to her face. Shivering, she brushes against my dick with her thigh, and within a second, I’m stiff as a fucking board. It takes every ounce of self-control to not keep staring at the dark patch covering her pussy, especially when she drapes her leg over mine, and I get a glimpse of those dark pink lips.
“Motherfucker,” I swear under my breath, closing my eyes for a brief second. My cock aches, the intense throb, painful, reminding me I haven’t been inside a woman for a long time. Softly brushing my fingers through her hair, like the sick fuck I know I am, I want nothing more than to bury my steel cock deep inside what I’m sure is going to be pure heaven.
When she opens her eyes, she’ll want to get out of here. I can at least pretend for a moment this ismywoman lying in my arms.
Mine.
To worship.
To own.
To hold.
To fuck, making her scream while she comes over and over, covered in my cum.
I’m so caught up in my own thoughts, running my eyes over her stomach up to her breasts. My breath catches in the back of my throat when bright gray eyes stare back at me. She looks down at our naked bodies, and her pupils widen. Placing her tiny, cold hand on my chest, she tries to push me away.
“Are you okay?” I ask, clearing my throat, watching her slide farther away from me. Holding her captive in my arms, I tighten my grip, not letting her go.
“Who are you? What happened?” she whispers, her voice sounding strong, although she starts to shake from the cold or shock. Damn it, she’s probably scared by the scarred, half naked guy lying next to her.
“Here.” I reach into my backpack and grab the bottle of water I always carry with me. I open the top and hold it in front of her face. She eyes it wearily.
“If I wanted to poison, or fuck you, you wouldn’t see it coming, you would feel it,” I try to joke, my voice sounding gruff and hard to my own ears.
“Fuck you, asshole,” she bites back, pressing her red lips to the bottle and almost downing it in record time.
“Is that a promise, kid?” I chuckle, taking the canteen from her and having a sip myself.
She presses her cold feet against my legs, and I hiss from the sudden contact. Is it my imagination, or does the corner of her mouth twitch?
“Don’t call me kid, my n-n-name is S-s-storm,” she stutters, her teeth chattering. For a brief second, a memory I thought I buried a long time ago occupies my mind, of me and my grandfather trekking through the woods before we needed to shelter from a blizzard, and he told me I would find peace one day in the eye of a storm.
“Let me go,” she demands, pushing at my arms.
“Not before you’re warm.” I pull her against my chest, and she swears in protest. The electricity soars through my veins, and my dick pulses, straining the cotton of my boxers like I’m about to rip them in two.
She shifts, and her knee brushes my throbbing erection, making her gasp. Our eyes clash, and I follow the tip of her tongue as she wets her lips.Fuck, it would be so easy to turn her on her back and press my mouth to hers. Dip my tongue into her tight little pussy, licking up all the cream, or burying my cock deep inside, pounding into her until she screams.
Furrowing my brows, I lean back.What the hell am I doing?
A low rumble escapes from my chest, and her eyes widen even more. “Storm is a fitting name,” I say, watching the flames behind her grow bigger.
“Hey, screw you. Once I get the feeling in my hands back, I’m going to slap you,” she bristles, her gray eyes filled with fire.
I bite on the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh. I can’t help it, the girl is a firecracker.
Inhaling deep, I tilt my head back and forth as the sweet vanilla fragrance of her hair hits my nose. “Lucky for you, I like a bit of pain, but I love inflicting it even more.”
Storm
He didn’t say that, or did he? His voice is husky and seductive. The deep timbre trickles down my body, heating every part of my cold skin. The guy saved my life. I should treat him a little nicer, or maybe not, judging by the way he keeps his eyes plastered to my face. Like he’s afraid to look at my body. My fiancé was the same, he even tried to push me to get a boob job. No chance in hell. I like the way I look. My hips may be on the curvy side, and my stomach’s not entirely flat. I don’t care, I can hike for hours, and my body has never failed me. Until now, judging by how I chased a rare bird into an area I didn’t know and fainted. It was all my fault. I should have stopped for breakfast. When I hit the snow face first, I knew I was in big trouble. My stomach rumbles in response.
“You’re starving, kid, do you want something to eat?” he asks, sounding worried. His clear blue eyes locking in on mine.
