Novak Raven (Harper's Mountains #4)(45)

“No, no. It’s more like a…den. Like how I grew up. I haven’t ever let anyone in here.” He shrugged. “I keep my dens private.”

But he was letting her see it? As he pushed the door open, her heart tethered to him even more.

Inside didn’t look like inside at all. It looked like outside. Avery gasped and padded to the center of the room, spun slowly to take it in. He’d covered the walls with strips of bark and nailed young sapling trees in an overlay that stretched from the scratched wood floors to the wooden ceilings.

Weston flicked on a deer antler lamp, but the light was muted by a cloth covering the shade. The entire cabin was one big open room with a kitchen to the right of the living room and a queen-sized bed under exposed oak beams on the left. Even his bedding was brown and deep forest green, and the kitchen counters were made of gnarled wood that looked hand carved and polished.

“It looks like a treehouse,” she whispered reverently. Avery ran her fingers over the smooth wood of the foot of the bed. “Did you make this?”

“I made everything in here,” he said low. “I like working with wood. I like creating things. I like giving wood function.” He ran his hand over his hair and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “It probably sounds dumb, but I like spending time in my shop alone. I like the sound of silence. I work through my shit better without all the…” He waved his hand over his head. “Noise.”

Full of emotion, she smiled. She knew he hadn’t shared this part of himself with anyone but her. “Will you show me your shop sometime?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Whenever you want. It’s out back.” Weston looked around the room, hand resting on the back of his neck. “Do you like it?”

“Come here,” she murmured, heart thumping so hard at how f*cking cute he was. Big, dominant, tatted-up monster, and he was worried about what she thought of his den? Weston had so many layers, and the more she learned of him, the more she loved him.

He strode closer, and she turned him slowly and pushed him down on the edge of the bed. He chuckled, and his eyes sparked with desire as she pulled her T-shirt over her head.

“I love your den so much it’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah?” Weston sounded distracted and was staring at her black satin bra.

“It feels homey, like the woods do.” Avery shimmied out of her jean shorts, and clad in only her lingerie, she climbed up onto his lap. Straddling him, she pushed up on her knees, so she was just above eye-level. She kissed his smiling lips. His hands were rough, gripping her hips, and maybe she wouldn’t have liked that with anyone else. But with him, it was just so perfect, so Weston.

She rolled her hips forward, building her own excitement because his dick was so hard, so thick under his jeans, and she remembered exactly how he felt inside of her. She was still a little sore from last night, but her arousal was bigger than that. Weston wrapped his arms around her back and crushed her to him, rocking his dick against her.

Tonight, he was hers. She wasn’t nervous like their first time. She wasn’t hesitating to touch him. She didn’t have to. He would let her do what she wanted, so she dragged her fingertips down the strong curves of his arms. Someday she would trace every tattoo on his body, but tonight…tonight she just wanted to feel his skin. She wanted to familiarize herself with every inch of his body.

As she explored his chest and the flexing mounds of his abs, she rolled her hips against his.

“How are you this f*cking sexy?” he asked breathily.

He trailed kisses down her neck, sucking hard, biting, pleasure and pain before he eased back and popped her tits out of her bra, grabbed them hard, and lowered his lips to one of her nipples. Their bodies were like water, flowing and moving as he sucked.

She could absolutely come like this, even with his pants on. He was already working her close to release, so she unsnapped the button on his jeans. Weston pulled his lips from her skin just long enough to work his pants down his thighs, and then he unfastened her bra in back with a quick snap of his fingers. Rushing now, he yanked the cups from her shoulders and threw it on the ground. His hand slid down her belly into the front of her panties as he swallowed up the gasp that rose from her throat.

A curious shiver trembled up his back and landed in his shoulders when he dragged two fingers through the wetness he’d conjured between her legs. In a smooth movement, he lifted her just enough that she hovered over the swollen head of his cock. And in an instant, he moved her panties to the side and slid her down.

“Ooooh,” he groaned as she sheathed him slowly. His eyes rolled closed, and he gritted his teeth.

He filled her, stretched her, felt amazing inside of her. He was so long and thick he was almost too much, but she relaxed as much as she could and eased back up when he went too deep. And by the third stroke, the soreness had disappeared. In its place was core-deep pleasure and heat. She pressed her chest against his and hugged him tight, eased up and back down again. She was already too close. “I’m almost there,” she panted. I’m sorry!

“Good. Come for me, Ave,” he growled against her ear.

She cried out softly on the next stroke, and again on the next, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck. His kiss was rough, and his teeth grazed her lips. Punishing him, she bit him back hard.

Weston’s reaction was instant. He bucked into her harder and let off a sexy sound.