Falling Hard (Men of Copper Mountain #1) Read Online Aria Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: Men of Copper Mountain Series by Aria Cole
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Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
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His words still echo in my head. The way he opened up, laid himself bare, told me he’s fallen for me. The way his eyes darkened with vulnerability and fear, as if he couldn’t believe I’d want him. And what’s worse? He’s convinced I’ll leave, just like everyone else.

I stare out at the trees, my breath shallow. I came here to protect them, to catalog the rare species that could be lost if this place were logged. But it’s more than that now. It’s about the life I could have here, with him.

I close my eyes, letting the air fill my lungs, trying to make sense of it all. I’ve always avoided this—commitment, roots, staying. But with Barron, it’s different. I want to stay. I want him. And that terrifies me.

“I’m not leaving,” I say, my voice softer than I intended, but steady. His eyes flicker with surprise, but he stays silent, waiting for me to continue. I step toward him, my heart pounding. “I’m choosing you, Barron. Not because I have to, but because I want to. This place, these trees, you—you’re my home now.”

His breath catches, and I see the emotions flicker across his face—relief, disbelief, and something darker, more primal. He steps closer, closing the distance between us, his hands finding my waist, pulling me against him. His body is warm, solid, grounding me in a way nothing else ever has.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low as his lips brush against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. There’s an edge to his words, something possessive, something that makes my pulse quicken.

His hands slide down my back, slow and deliberate, his touch igniting a fire under my skin. I can feel the shift between us, the air thickening with the weight of unspoken need. His lips trail down the side of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. “I’m not letting you go,” he growls softly, his hands tightening on my hips. “You’re mine now. And I’m chaining you to this mountain, to me.”

I don’t know whether it’s the heat in his words or the sheer force of his presence, but my knees feel weak, my breath hitching in my throat. Barron pulls his leather belt from his waist with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes never leaving mine. My heart races, an unfamiliar nervousness settling in my stomach, but there’s also an undeniable thrill.

His gaze softens, though, and he steps forward, lifting my chin so I’m forced to meet his eyes. “Trust me,” he whispers, his voice full of reassurance and something deeper. “I’ll take care of you. I won’t hurt you.”

I swallow hard, my pulse pounding in my throat. This is new, and I don’t know what to expect, but there’s something in his eyes—something tender, something full of love—that makes me trust him without hesitation.

Slowly, he loops the belt around my wrists, binding them loosely behind my back. It’s not tight, not uncomfortable, but the vulnerability of it—the feeling of being at his mercy—sends a wave of heat coursing through me. He guides me backward, pressing me gently against a tree, the rough bark cool against my skin.

His hands slide down my sides, slow and teasing, grounding me, reminding me that I’m safe with him. “If you want me to stop, I’ll stop,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine, the words a soft promise. “Just say the word.”

I nod, my breath shaky but full of anticipation. “Don’t stop,” I whisper, and his eyes darken, a spark of something dangerous and exhilarating flashing in them.

His mouth finds mine again, this time slower, deeper, full of raw need. His hands roam my body with purpose, claiming every inch of me as if he’s memorizing the feel of my skin. The tension between us builds, the air electric with the chemistry we’ve been fighting for so long.

Barron’s lips move down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as his hands tug at my clothes, undressing me with a reverence that makes my heart ache. Each kiss, each touch is like a promise, a reassurance that I’m his, and he’s mine.

I feel the cool air on my bare skin, but the heat from his body keeps me warm, his presence enveloping me. He undresses himself with slow, deliberate movements, his eyes never leaving mine. The belt around my wrists feels like a reminder of the trust I’ve given him, the vulnerability I’ve allowed myself to feel.

When he finally presses his body against mine, the sensation is overwhelming, his skin hot against mine, his touch both rough and tender. He enters me slowly, deliberately, and I gasp, my back arching against the tree as my bound hands press into the bark.

The rhythm we find together is primal, instinctual, but there’s a tenderness beneath it, a deep connection that goes beyond the physical. Every movement, every breath is shared, our bodies moving together like we’ve done this a thousand times before.


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