Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
He slides the ring from the box, and his hands are so steady it makes my nerves hum. “Will you marry me, Katherine Vreeland? Make me the happiest, luckiest, most envied man on the planet?”
My breath is caught somewhere in my chest, but I manage to nod—once, hard, like a bobblehead on a bumpy road. “Yes,” I squeak, then, “God, yes, are you insane? Of course.”
Talon slips the ring onto my finger. It’s a perfect fit, warm from the fire and from his hands, and the fox’s eyes wink up at me, clever yet wise. Then he pulls me down onto the rug, mouth crashing into mine, and it’s not gentle or careful. It’s all teeth and lips, all the hunger we’ve built up since the moment we met.
I grab handfuls of his hair, yank him closer until our bodies are smashed together, chest to chest. He groans into my mouth, and the vibration goes straight to my core. I climb into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and we kiss until I can’t breathe, until the only air I want is the breath he’s stealing from my lungs.
He works his hands up under my thin t-shirt, callused fingers sliding over my waist, up to my breasts, and I arch into him, already so wet it’s embarrassing. He lifts the shirt off in one smooth motion and tosses it behind him, then runs his hands over my bare skin like he’s learning it all for the first time.
I can’t stop touching him—his shoulders, his neck, the hard line of his jaw. I drag my nails down his arms and he shudders, the sound coming out of him halfway between a laugh and a growl. He yanks his own shirt off, then laughs when he sees I have no panties.
“I love it,” he rasps into my ear. “My naughty little girl.”
He kisses down my neck, nips at the spot below my ear, then works his way down to my collarbone. He bites there, not gentle, and I gasp, nails digging into his back. He slips one hand between my legs and runs his fingers over my slit, groaning when he finds me soaked.
“Always so fucking ready for me,” he murmurs, and I can only moan in response.
He slides two fingers into me, curling them just right, thumb working my clit in slow, relentless circles. I buck against his hand, ride his wrist until I’m shaking, hips grinding down hard.
“Talon,” I moan deliriously, my head tilting back. “Oh yes!”
He bites my nipple, and the pain-pleasure combination sends me rocketing up and out—orgasm slamming through me so hard I see stars behind my eyes.
“Mmm!” I scream. “Oooh!”
He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, then lifts me and lays me back on the fur rug, looming over me with that look that says “you’re mine.” He sheds the pajama pants, and his cock springs free, thick and hard and already leaking.
I reach for him, guiding him to me, and when he pushes in, the stretch in my pussy is perfect, too much, everything at once. He sets a brutal rhythm, deep and fast, and I dig my heels into his back, urging him on.
“Mmmm!” I cry out. “Give it to me, Daddy!”
We fuck like animals, lost in the heat and the hunger and the blizzard that’s piling up outside. The fire roars, and I can barely hear myself over the slap of our bodies and the filthy things he’s whispering in my ear.
“Mine forever,” he growls, biting my throat. “This wet piece of pussy belongs to me.”
“Yes,” I gasp, “yours, always, mmm—”
He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, eyes blazing. “Say it.”
“I’m yours, Talon,” I cry, “I love you, I’m—oh, god, I’m coming, I’m—”
He slams into me, so deep I swear I can feel him in my soul, and I come again, white-hot and endless. The mountain man follows, shuddering above me, head thrown back, bronzed body tensed and perfect. Then he collapses onto me, kissing every inch of skin he can reach, his breath warm on my ear.
We lie there, tangled and sweaty and still a little stunned, the ring cool and heavy on my finger, the fox’s eyes glinting in the firelight.
He strokes my hair, kisses my forehead, and whispers, “You really said yes?”
I laugh, snuggling closer. “I really did, Mr. McKnight. Get ready to be a husband.”
He squeezes me tight, then rolls us both to face the fire, spooning me with his body curved protectively around mine.
Outside, the snow falls harder, burying the cabin in white. Inside, I’m wrapped in the arms of the man I love, the ring a promise of everything to come.
For the first time, the future doesn’t scare me at all.
It’s well past midnight. The whole cabin is dark except for a single flickering candle on the nightstand, its wax dripping down like a slow, sticky climax. Talon’s sprawled across our bed, still half-naked from earlier—just boxers now, hair sticking up like he’s been static-shocked, his tanned torso striped with scratches I know I gave him. He’s reading my latest draft out loud, voice high with melodrama as he narrates the latest scene between my stepdad and stepdaughter characters. I’m on my belly, legs tangled in the covers, highlighter in hand and a red pencil jammed behind my ear, marking up his thriller pages in the glow.