And just like that, everything I didn’t dare to dream… my mountain, my ring, my girl, becomes real in my hands.
She yelps sweetlywith every bounce of the truck over grit and stone as we tackle the last mile up our mountain. Toward home.
“You okay, baby?”
She glares at me. “I should never have made that promise about you filling all my holes,” she grumbles sweetly.
Pure, unadulterated bliss moves through me when I belly laugh. “Let the record show, I was offering just the tip. You went fucking feral and backed that pretty little tush into me. Didn’t want to hear stop. Had you addicted to my cock in your ass in less than a minute, didn’t I?”
She blushes crimson but keeps up the glaring. “I won’t be able to sit properly for a week. You know that, don’t you?” she pouts, shifts on the cushion I had to buy her after one too many yelps and seeing her clear discomfort.
“No problem. Carrying you is one of my favorite things to do, baby.”
Her face melts into pure adoration that punches me clean in the gut. “I love you.”
Fuck me, but I will never get tired of hearing that. “I love you more, petal. So fucking much more.”
She releases her belt, crawls into my lap just as we crest the last hill.
And together we watch our beloved home—the place I will be fucking babies into her the first chance she lets me—fill our windshield.
“Welcome home, petal.”
She raises blissed, tear-filled eyes to me. “I’m so happy I got caught in your snare, Bear. So fucking happy.”
EPILOGUE
LILY
One Year Later
Ashbourne smells like spring.
Buckets of flowers line my pop-up stand in the clearing, their colors bursting against the green sweep of meadow. Roses, lilies, peonies—all grown in the greenhouse Bear built me with his own hands, rooted in soil he turned himself.
Now my soil. My acre. My life.
One year ago, I never could’ve imagined this. A shop in town that I only visit once a week, content to let my assistant handle the orders and walk-ins. A once-a-month pop-up that’s become its own little event—people drive out just to buy arrangements here, in this clearing I loved at first sight.
And then there’s the mountain. Our mountain.
We still don’t like unannounced visitors, so I meet people halfway, sell them beauty where the road dips into meadow, then send them home smiling while I keep my wild world untouched.
It’s the best of both worlds.
Civilization on my terms.
Home on his.
I wipe my hands on my apron as the last customer drives off, tucking a few bills into the tin. My back aches in the sweetest way—the way work should ache. The clearing falls quiet, leaving only sweet birdsong and the softest breeze.
I throw my head back, close my eyes, and breathe in deep.
And then… I feel him.
The hair on my arms prickles before I even turn.
I always know when he’s close, whether he’s chopping wood, lurking in the shadows, or stalking down through the trees like a beast come to claim me.
