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“I got this for us.”
“Is that…” I ask, just to make sure, “is that the tree I was tied to?”
“You’re damn fucking right it is,” he rasps.
Has there ever been a man more gorgeous and brilliant than him? Someone I can count on? Someone more perfect and amazing and absolutely tailored to me?
Is it too good to be true?
As I look up at him, I feel my nipples twisting into tight peaks. Searching out his rough chest, aching to be touched by him.
Only him. I want him to be the only man who ever loves me. Who touches me. Who kisses me.
“Nothing, and no one, will ever hurt you again.”
He takes one broad step toward me, erasing the distance between us and kicking the wood out of the way.
His chest is rising and falling like he’s about to tear right through his own skin and ravage the entire mountain.
He could ravage me right now.
And I would let him.
I look at the chopped wood in admiration.
I have witnessed the destruction of the thing that tried to take me down, tried to wrestle my body from my eternal soul.
Does this mean I owe Adrian everything?
My body and soul?
I bite the corner of my lip.
I think it might.
He grabs some logs, takes my hand, and pulls me inside.
“Let’s go make a fucking fire.”
Chapter Six
Emma
“Let’s go make a fucking fire.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me inside. He doesn’t stop pulling me until he’s sitting me down on the couch and he’s crouching in front of the fireplace.
The logs are dirty and they’re making the pristine white carpet get soil and moss all over it, but he doesn’t seem to care.
I tuck my knees up and watch as this glorious man makes me a fire.
“You know what all of those pieces of wood make me think of?” I say as I keep my eyes on him, softly roaming over every inch of his body.
“What do they make you think of?” he says, not turning to look at me.
“They’re kind of like the biggest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen.”
He huffs out a laugh as he keeps adding wood to the fire.
