Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
She steps closer, so close I can feel the heat of her body against mine. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, King,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Just you.”
I don’t wait. I close the distance between us, my hands framing her face as I kiss her. It’s not soft, not gentle. It’s raw and real and everything I’ve been holding back since the day I found her on that icy road.
Her hands grip my jacket, pulling me closer, and I can feel the tremor in her fingers, the way she’s giving herself over to me completely. And for the first time in a long time, I feel whole.
When we finally pull back, her eyes are bright, her lips swollen from my kiss.
“I love you,” the words spill out before I can stop them.
She grins, as I brush a thumb along her jaw. “Back at ya, cowboy.”
“And you’re mine,” I say, pulling her against me. “For better or worse, Indie. You’re mine.”
Chapter Eleven
Indie
The world around us is silent, save for the sound of King’s boots as he carries me into his cabin. His arms are strong and sure, holding me as if I weigh nothing at all, though my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. The cold bites at my cheeks, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating off him.
“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” I mutter, though the words feel flimsy against the weight of the moment. My voice is too breathy, too unsure, and I hate how easily he makes me unravel.
His eyes flick down to meet mine, dark and intense. “You think I’m letting you walk into this cabin after the way I’ve been missing you?”
My breath hitches. Damn him for saying things like that, for being so blunt and unapologetic. It should make me angry, but all it does is stoke the fire burning low in my belly.
“I can walk just fine,” I insist, squirming a little in his arms.
“Stop it, Indie,” he growls, his voice low and commanding. “You’re not going anywhere except where I want you. Understand?”
I bite my lip, the spark in his tone igniting something reckless in me. “And where exactly do you want me, cowboy?”
His lips twitch, not quite a smile but something dangerous and full of intent. “You’ll see soon enough.”
The cabin door creaks open under his boot, the warmth of the embers in the fire inside wrapping around us as he steps in. The smell of woodsmoke and pine fills my senses, grounding me, even as King’s presence threatens to undo me completely. He kicks the door shut behind him and doesn’t stop until we’re at the stairway leading up to the loft.
“King—”
“Not another word,” he says, his voice softer now but no less firm. “You’ve done enough running. Tonight, you stay right here.”
He shifts me in his arms, as he starts to climb. I should protest, should tell him he’s being ridiculous, but the truth is, I don’t want him to stop. Not now. Not ever.
The loft is simple, just a big bed under the skylights and a few shelves built into the walls. But it feels like something out of a dream, the stars above us glittering like they’re close enough to touch. King sets me down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering at my waist as if he’s reluctant to let go.
I look up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. “What now?”
“Now,” he says, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face, “I show you exactly what it means to be mine.”
The air between us thickens, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken. I should say something, push back like I always do, but the words get caught in my throat as his hands trail up my sides, slow and deliberate. He’s watching me like a hawk, like he’s cataloging every reaction, every breathless hitch and tremble.
“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple. “Every damn minute without you feels like a year.” His hands cup my face, forcing me to look at him. “I’ll never stop wanting you, Indie.” His thumb brushes my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “I won’t let you walk away from this mountain,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Not unless I’m coming with you.”
Before I can respond, his mouth is on mine, hot and demanding. It’s not the kind of kiss that leaves room for doubt or hesitation. It’s a claiming, pure and simple, and I find myself melting into him, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pull him closer.
His weight presses me back against the bed, his hands sliding under my sweater to find bare skin. I gasp against his lips, the calloused roughness of his palms igniting every nerve ending in my body.