I blink several times. There’s too much to take in. The completely rustic interior of the cabin I’ve discovered at the end of the trail. The mountain of a man sitting only a few feet away, holding his massive cock in his hand. His golden skin glows and glimmers with sweat.

I’m shocked by what I see, and instantly aroused. I must be losing my ever-loving mind because my first instinct is to cross the room, strip off every stitch of my clothing, and impale myself on that glorious beast.

I blink again and swallow hard, but the fantasy doesn’t go away. The man’s gaze is hard and fixed on mine. He hasn’t moved. His breathing is ragged, but he’s frozen the fierce pumping motions on his cock.

An hour ago, feeling restless and no more ready to join the hippy club at the retreat center, I’d resolved to retrace my steps last night in the daylight. If I was going to respect nature as he’d wisely advised, I would have to get to know the trails better. So I’d followed the path to the springs, and then farther up the mountainside until I noticed the modest log-frame cabin set in a small clearing.

The door was open, inviting me in. Like a fool, I’d barged right in on the beautiful stranger from last night. The irony isn’t lost on me that he’d caught me in the same precarious position only hours earlier. Maybe I should relish leaving him as frustrated as he’d left me, but I can’t deny wanting to witness his pleasure.

A sharp pang of desire hits me between my legs when I imagine his release. Then I remember the way thoughts of him finished me off last night, and I wonder if he'd been thinking of me just now. My nipples harden painfully under my T-shirt, and despite the cooler air at this altitude, I’m heating up.

We exist in this silent standoff for what feels like several minutes, but might only be seconds. I can’t keep count between the uneven beats of my heart and the fierce pulsing of all my pleasure centers. All the places I want this man’s touch on me.

As if he can read my torrid thoughts, he makes the first move. A slow and languid slide of his fist along the length of his cock. My lips fall open. I lick them absently, noting how dry my mouth suddenly is. When I lift my gaze to his tan, rugged face, his clear blue eyes are trained on my lips. I lick them again, trapping my lower lip between my teeth. His lids lower slightly and his pace increases. In that moment, I realize my thoughts and whatever body language I’ve given off must have been loud as hell. We’re in the midst of the most sexually intense silent conversation I’ve ever had in my life. And then I end it.

“I want you.” The words rasp past my lips.

Before I can think about how insane I am or how desperate I sound, he’s on his feet. His red flannel shirt flutters around his narrow waist before he pulls it off and stalks toward me, gloriously naked.

I take a small step back against the threshold, because he’s huge in every way—his height and breadth, his fucking impressive girth, never mind the energy that seems to glow in a fiery ball all around him, threatening to consume me the closer he gets.

In another second, his arm circles my waist as he shoves the door closed with the other, trapping us inside the cabin. The only light comes through two windows cut into either side of the one-room house. I’m curious about the dwelling, but the sex god who dwells here demands all of my attention.

Not as gently, he pins my body to the door with his, and then his mouth lands on mine. I open immediately, because something about being in his presence is making me feel and do things that have nothing to do with careful reasoning. And deep down, I want him so fucking badly I can’t make sense of it.

For all his brawn, the man’s kiss is shockingly soft. I feel his strength in other places, like the hard grip that holds our bodies together and the firm press of his hips against mine. But his slow exploration of my mouth is gentle and passionate at once. His erection is pressing against me, flooding my mind with visions of what it could do, how good he’d feel.

I tunnel my fingers into his hair, loosening it from its tie as we continue kissing each other like passion-starved lovers. It’s damp at the roots, rough against my fingertips, just like his unshaven jaw and the soft hairs that cover his broad chest. I find that I enjoy the sensation. The texture is like his scent—powerfully masculine, real, and raw. I want to lick him. Instead, I swirl my tongue feverishly against his. I trail my touch down his rock-hard body but slow my exploration at his hips.

I gasp for air, breaking the passionate lock of our mouths. As reason tries to break through, he takes my hand and guides it to his cock. I grasp it, noting its heat and my inability to fully circle it. His fingers curl around mine and guide me in a stroking motion that mimics his earlier.

“I want you too, beautiful,” he mutters, his breath soft against my swollen lips. “I wanted you last night when you were spread out on that rock. I wanted you all fucking morning, so badly that all I could do was close my eyes, stroke my cock, and pretend it was you doing it. But here you are.”

All the air leaves my lungs. It’s useless. I’m a goner.

He shifts his thigh to rest between my legs, and I part for him. I moan when he adds delicious pressure to my pussy. I’d gotten myself off last night, but I’m wound so tight right now I could scream. I’d scream this man’s name if I knew it.

“What’s your name?” My voice is breathy, as foreign as this place and this beautiful stranger.

“Luke Dawson.”

“I’m Madison.”

His lips curl up a fraction. “It’s a pleasure. Now that we’re introduced, tell me exactly what you want, Madison.”

He asks the question with renewed pressure on my clit. I curse inwardly, because fuck… Fuck is all I want.

“I want you inside me, Luke.”

His smile retreats, and I swear the rings of blue around his irises darken. It could be the bad light in here. It could be the feral way he’s looking at me before he goes for the button on my jeans, never breaking eye contact. He tears the zipper open with both hands and shoves the denim to the middle of my thighs along with my underwear.

Oh God, he’s going to fuck me.

I’m terrified and more aroused than I’ve ever been in my life. I close my eyes and let my head fall back in surrender.

My eyes fly open and a cry tears up my throat as he plunges two thick fingers inside me. He withdraws, dragging across my clit on his way out. Then he brings them to his mouth, dipping them in slowly, like he’s savoring the flavor of me. Everything inside me clenches. Luke Dawson is an animal, and so am I, because I’ve never experienced anything more erotic than his unabashed desire to taste me.

I’m trembling as he draws his fingertips, wet from my arousal and his tongue, across my lips before taking me in another savage kiss, sealing us together again.

With his other hand, he curls around my hand on his cock, reminding me how much I want his pleasure too. When I stroke him, up and down, he pushes his fingers deep into my drenched pussy again, and then retreats. In and out. In and out.

We move that way, creating a rhythm: stroking, fucking, breathing, pulsing, needing. Everything moves in sync and the world outside the cabin disappears. His touch is heaven and I’m immediately wild for more of it. The rhythm breaks up as we race to finish. My heart is speeding. He skips a beat to add another finger to his penetration. I’m struggling to give the full length of his cock the attention it deserves, from the thick root to the plush tip. He jerks and his abs tighten every time my thumb grazes over it. If I wasn’t enjoying his finger fuck so much, I’d drop to my knees and take him in my mouth.

When his body tightens like a bow, I flick my gaze to his. The air presses out of my lungs when I take in the intensity of his stare.

“I’m going to come. You don’t have to—”

I silence his next words with another deep consuming kiss and pump harder. I don’t give a shit if he comes on me. I want to see it and feel it and touch it. The primal thought emerges from deep inside my lust-addled brain in a voice I barely recognize.

When he comes a few seconds later, his expression tightens into hard planes. His nails scratch against the rough wood at my back and his body turns into an impenetrable block of muscle. Watching him let go has officially taken first place as the most erotic moment of my life. Luke is…beautiful. I’m so entranced, I almost forget he’s still three knuckles deep inside of me. He takes in a few steadying breaths before pulling back. I whimper when the movement leaves me empty.

He grabs his shirt off the light pine floor and turns back to me.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters quietly as he cleans the warm sticky release from my hand.

All the while I’m standing here with my pants hanging down my thighs. He can’t leave me this way. He’s got to finish me.

He drops the shirt back to the floor and pins me with a wicked look. Something mischievous in his eyes makes my heart stutter. He must be able to read the desperation on my face because he smiles and presses a soft kiss to my lips.

“I’m going to take care of you, beautiful. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Then he’s on his knees, dragging my jeans down to my ankles and flinging them across the room. Before I can make sense of what he’s doing, he’s got my thigh hitched over his shoulder and he’s buried his face between my legs.

The sensation of his tongue on my clit makes my head spin. I lift my arms and search for something to hang on to. They fall again and my fingers find purchase on his shoulders, and then into his mess of golden locks. My hips move with the undulation of his head as he works his tongue and fingers in perfect harmony.

His wide-mouthed assault draws long desperate moans from my lungs until my standing leg is trembling badly. Deftly, he slings my leg so my thigh rests on his other shoulder. He takes the full burden of my weight on his body like it’s nothing, barely skipping a beat as he sucks and fucks me into oblivion.

“Madison. God, I knew your pussy was sweet. So fucking sweet.”

“Oh God…Luke!” I’m so close I can barely breathe. And I want it so much. The ache is inside every cell of my body, clawing at me for release. I’ve never wanted anything so badly.

Then he curls his fingers inside me and I scream. The orgasm rocks me, strips everything down to a single point, leaving the rest of the world empty and flat and silent. My muscles go lax. Seconds go by as the world returns with color and oxygen and the warm buzz of release.

I flutter my eyelids closed with a sigh.

I can barely register what just happened. I don’t have time to work it out, because Madison is about to collapse. I maneuver her into my arms, tuck her against my chest, and bring her to the full-size bed in the back corner of the cabin. Her body flinches every few seconds while little breathy sighs keep falling from her lips. I fight back a smile, but can’t ignore the pride beaming through me.

I lay her down on my unmade bed and cover her with a light quilt. For the first time since living here, I’m struck with a sense of insecurity about my living conditions. I glance around quickly, seeing it all through her eyes, even though they’re presently closed. She’ll rouse soon enough and see…well, not much. I exist with the bare necessities.

I wince. Not that I really care what she thinks. I mean, I’m glad that I made her scream my name, and coming with her hands on me was pretty much the best thing to happen to me in recent memory. But she walked into my cabin, uninvited and unannounced. So I’m not going to make excuses about my life when she opens her eyes and starts asking questions.

I shake my head, which is still buzzing both from my orgasm and the heady experience of burying my face between her thighs until she went boneless in my arms. I retrieve my jeans from their crumpled pile on the floor and pull them on. Madison is curled into my pillow, her lower half covered with the quilt. I briefly regret not stripping her completely so I might get another glance at her chest, which is now concealed by the simple pink T-shirt she’s wearing. Heaven help me. If her tits had been bare, I might have come twice as fast and even harder.

My skin prickles with arousal. Goddamn. I draw my hand down my face, which only brings her scent into my lungs and makes my cock harden. Quickly and quietly, I move to my poor excuse for a kitchen and boil a pot of hot water for coffee. I’m not much of a drinker, but I am definitely drunk on this woman and I need to sober the fuck up.

I make the coffee and drink it, all the while staring at her slumbering peacefully on my bed. I’d never shared this space with another human soul. I feel like a part of me should be annoyed to be sharing it now, even for a little while, but I’m not. I like seeing her there. I love the idea of being able to walk over and push into her sweet cunt whenever I want to. Based on the earth-shattering orgasm I’d given her earlier, I don’t figure it would be a hard sell. She’d open for me the same way she opened for me earlier. Mouth, legs, everything… She’d let me in before I’d even asked. She said she wanted me…

Warmth blooms across my chest and relaxes some tension I’m holding in my gut. My arousal is on a slow simmer that I can’t quite turn off. And even though the possibility of fucking her in short order is at the forefront of my mind, she’s sleeping and probably needs a little while to recover.

I stand, grab an old white T-shirt, and leave the cabin as quietly as I can. The sun warms the west side of the mountain. The air is dry and crisp. The only sounds are of nature. Just the way I like it.

I smile when I think about Madison’s screams cutting through the constant soundtrack of birds and wind and the motion of the trees. Probably scared the fuck out of some of the nearby fauna.

I kill the next hour or so finishing the task that I’d been too wound up to complete earlier. I chop a good amount of wood, though I have plenty more to do over the coming weeks to compile all the reserves I want. My muscles are faintly sore, a sensation I relish. I like to use and push my body. I like to sweat and stand back and look at my achievements, knowing the fruit of my labor will meet the needs of another day.

As much as I enjoy all that, I also can’t wait to get back to the goddess in my bed. I tug my shirt off and wipe my body down of dirt and sweat before I go back. Maybe I can coax her down to the springs. We could get naked and clean and I could bend her over one of the rocks…

My hard-on quickly returns with that prospect, and I enter the cabin less quietly, hoping to rouse her if she isn’t already awake. But the bed is empty. I dart my gaze around the small space. I scan twice more, pacing to the corners, as if somehow she’d miraculously turn up in the few hundred square feet of wall-less space. But no. She’s gone.