"Move." My fingernails bite into the scarred muscles of his back. "Wyatt, please."
The last thread of his control snaps.
He withdraws and slams back into me, burying himself to the hilt. The table groans under the violent impact of our bodies. He sets a brutal, punishing rhythm, taking exactly what he needs.
There's no romance in the dark of the cabin. There's only survival. Claiming. A desperate, primal need to carve ourselves into each other before the sun comes up and the world burns down around us.
His mouth covers mine, swallowing my cries as the pleasure sharpens into something blinding and chaotic.
The friction builds, hot and unrelenting. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, demanding more. He gives me everything. The absolute raw power of the man crashes over me, driving me higher, closer to the edge.
The heat inside my core coils incredibly tight, threatening to snap.
"Wyatt." I bow upward against his lips, rising to meet his brutal thrusts.
"Take it." His grip on my hips bruises my skin, anchoring me to the violence of his rhythm.
I shatter.
The climax rips through me with the force of a detonation, sending violent, electrical shocks cascading through every nerve ending in my body. I cry out, my nails scoring down his back as the intense, blinding pleasure drags me under.
Wyatt gives a harsh, guttural shout. He drives into me one final, devastating time, his powerful body shuddering violently against mine as he empties himself into me.
He collapses forward, his heavy chest crushing the breath out of my lungs, his face buried in the curve of my neck. We are both gasping for air, slick with sweat in the freezing cabin, our bodies completely fused together in the dark.
I wrap my arms tightly around his broad shoulders, holding the deadliest man I have ever known against my chest.
He doesn't stay there long.
Wyatt pushes back from the table, stepping into the freezing air of the cabin. He kicks off his heavy combat boots, lettingthem hit the floorboards with a dull thud, and finally strips his tactical pants down his legs, kicking them aside.
He stands before me, completely bare in the pale, dying light of the lantern.
I reach for him, the exhaustion of the long night settling deep into my bones.
He catches my hands, his large fingers wrapping around my wrists. The predatory, starving darkness in his eyes hasn't faded. It has only sharpened.
"I'm not nearly finished." His voice is a dark, gravelly promise that sends a fresh, violent wave of heat straight to my core.
Before I can process the absolute feral intent in his stare, he steps forward and lifts me clean off the wood. He carries me across the dark cabin, dropping me onto the narrow bed against the far wall. The rough wool blankets smell like woodsmoke and cold air.
He follows me down instantly.
He cages me in, bracing his massive weight on his forearms, trapping me beneath his body. He takes me a second time.
Slow. Impossibly deep.
He owns the space he has claimed. The overwhelming size and power of him pulls raw, ragged sounds from my throat, echoing loudly in the absolute silence of the mountain.
I surrender to a man who took a contract to end my life. And I have never felt safer.
Hours bleed away into the dark, measured only by the searing heat of his skin and the violent, unrelenting rhythm of his body. The claustrophobic walls of the cabin act as a cocoon, insulating us from the freezing Wyoming winter and the syndicate hunting us both.
He takes me a third time, flipping me to my knees on the rough mattress. He grips my hips, anchoring me against thesheer force of his thrusts. His fingers tangle in my messy braid, yanking my head back to bare my throat to the freezing air. He drives into me from behind, tearing the last remaining shreds of my control apart until I shatter all over again.
When the feral, consuming energy finally burns itself out, he pulls me down into the rough blankets.
Wyatt presses my bare back flush against his chest, wrapping his heavy arm tight around my waist. The solid, unyielding heat of his massive body acts as a physical shield against the freezing temperature of the room. I bury my face in the wool, inhaling the intoxicating scent of sweat, gun oil, and cedar.
