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But I watch him. I see the slope of his nose and the corner of his jaw. I see his thick lashes fanning across his cheek and the way his lips part as he breathes. I want to cup his face and tilt his head back. I want to cover his lips with mine and explore his mouth with my tongue. I want to taste every inch of his skin. I want to know what he sounds like moaning my name.

Blake’s gentle sigh brings me out of my dirty thoughts. His eyes drop, and his heart rate grows even. Minute by minute, I watch in fascination as the young man nods off. His fingers on my arm grow still, and eventually his shoulder slumps. I grasp his face between my palms, gently lowering him until his head rests against my thighs. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I carefully lift his legs onto the couch, watching the way he responds to me even in his sleep.

From the subtle arch of his spine to the way he nuzzles deeper into me, sucking in a lungful and relaxing even further. It makes my heart so content. I want to see him like this every night. I want to watch him fall asleep and then hold him until daybreak. I want his scent mixing with mine until we’re indistinguishable.

The movie plays on in the background, long forgotten as my gaze sweeps over Blake. He’s perfect. The most perfect mate I could ever have asked for. But now I can’t let him go. I won’t let him leave.

Maybe a day ago I could understand why he couldn’t stay. But now… I’m keeping him forever. Damned be when the storm breaks.

CHAPTER 8

BLAKE

The sounds of Brother Bear echo through my thoughts as my eyelids grow heavy and every worry in my mind fades into the background. As if all my life’s stresses have been swept away in the raging storm beyond Arden’s cabin.

I’m so warm beside his thick body. And I catch myself mindlessly running my fingers through his soft arm hair. I’ve never met someone so hairy, but I’m not deterred. In fact, I’m intrigued.

As my body sinks deeper into the sofa and my head droops, I think of the moment Arden lifted his shirt, showing off his meaty chest and dense abs. The way his body hair brushes against each individual muscle, outlining it against the dimness of the cabin, has my blood heating beneath my skin.

I want to feel his body. I want to know if his muscles are hard or soft. I want to run my fingers through his chest hair and feel the little strands tickle between my knuckles.

Yet the wave of sleep washes over me, and before I can think anymore of the handsome man beside me, I slip into a silent darkness.

My world smells of firewood and pine. Of fresh linen and cool air kissing my skin. The feeling is gentle. Kind. I burrow deeper, chasing more of that wonderful feeling of…safety.

I blink my eyes open to find myself surrounded by wonderful comfort, lying in a pile of thick sheets and fluffy pillows amid the peaceful dimness of the room.

I’m in a bed… his bed.

For a second, I tense, holding my breath as I carefully tilt my head to the side to see an empty space beside me. He isn’t in bed with me.

My stomach drops, and so does my mood. Maybe in the back of my mind for the past two days, I’ve been seeking this new feeling. The feeling of being protected. Where a burly man can fend off all of my life’s problems. Who I can hide behind when I can’t face the pressure ahead of me. So where is he, if he isn’t asleep in his bed?

Pulling the covers away, I find this time Arden hasn’t stripped me down to my underwear, but he has taken my shirt, leaving me only in track pants. The temperature in his bedroom is vastly colder than the living room, causing a shiver to scuttle up my spine. Making my way towards the door where a faint orange light glows from the sliver under it, I carefully pull it open.

The cabin is silent, with just the faint crackle of the fire and the growl of the storm to fill the buzz in my ears. Yet as I peer down the hallway, I catch Arden’s shadowed form on the couch as he faces the fire, his gaze unblinking.

I take a step forward, opening my mouth to speak, yet I freeze.

Not noticing it at first, the movement of his arm catches me off guard. Shrouded by pillows and blankets that hang from the edge of the sofa, Arden’s arm moves in a rhythmic motion.

His lips part as he pants under his breath, yet his arm doesn’t stop. I tiptoe closer, keeping myself pressed to the wall. What is he doing?

The heat from the living room meets me, yet my skin rages with goosebumps. Something raw and wild zaps through the air. It has a flush running through me as I step closer, peering over the back of the couch, my eyes landing on the sight before me.

Thick, ropey forearms dusted with brown hair. The sound of slick skin slapping against skin meets my ears, and I barely hold back my gasp.

With wide fingers, Arden fists his girthy cock. His head rests against the back of the couch, and what sounds like an animalistic growl permeates the air around him.

My eyes dart back to where he slides his hand up and down his meaty length. God, he has the thickest cock I’ve ever seen. It almost looks unreal. With a bulbous red crown leaking streams of pre-cum, rich veins dancing up his shaft.

Arden growls, raising a balled piece of fabric to his face, inhaling deeply. His hips thrust into his palm. His knuckles grow white as his weighty balls slap his muscular thighs.

Balls the size of apples, nestled within thick brown fur. It can’t be pubes; each strand looks far too soft and full to be pubes. It’s as if he’s half animal.

“Blake.” Arden’s voice escapes the fabric in a muffled grumble.

I tense, my breath caught in my throat as my dick perks up at my name on his tongue. Yet the mountain man doesn’t turn to me; he simply speeds up his thrusts. The sofa squeaks as it begins to rock, and I watch with my fingers trailing down my chest, dipping under the waistband of my pants.