Page 6 of Lonely Heart
“Don’t stop,” I say, desperate to feel him move inside of me. “I need you. Please.”
His control snaps. He pushes his hips forward, bottoming out, and I feel every inch of him pulsing. “You’re so tight, Lyra.” He groans into my neck, his hips picking up speed as he pumps deeper and faster, bringing me just to the edge before pulling back and starting all over.
Chanting his name, I dig my fingernails into his shoulder, knowing without a doubt it will leave marks. But I don’t care—I want to mark him as mine. “Faster, Owen. I can take it.”
His hips pump faster as he slips a hand between us. Finding my clit he rubs his thumb across it until I’m coming around him, my pussy milking his cock. “Shit.” He moans, emptying himself inside of me with a possessive roar. “Mine.”
“Yours.” I bury my head against his chest as he rolls onto his back, taking me with him and tucking me against his side. “You okay?” His voice is rough but sweet.
“Yeah. I’m more than okay.”
“Good.” He leans down and kisses me like he never wants to let me go. Which is fine with me because I plan on never letting him go either.
Epilogue – Owen
One Year Later
“Iknow, Mrs. Squirrel.I’m not happy with my husband’s timing either for knocking me up, so I’m eight months pregnant in the middle of the hottest part of the summer, just like you.”
I glance at my wife, who's carrying on a surprisingly two-sided conversation with a heavily pregnant squirrel. Every time Lyra says something, the female squirrel chimes in with her chirpy little squirrel gibberish.
It’s the middle of July, a hot summer day, but Lyra insisted on spending the day by the river where we first met, for our one-year anniversary of when we met. We got married at the winery almost exactly three months to the day after we first met. I wanted to marry her sooner, but the winery was booked until then.
“Are you and Mrs. Squirrel planning a rebellion?” I take a seat on the flannel blanket next to Lyra, trying not to get distracted by her naked breasts, because, of course, she is topless. I haven’t been able to keep a bikini top on her since I met her, which is fine by me—she has amazing breasts.
“Something like that.” With my help, she curls up against me, our baby cradled safely within her. “We were talking about baby names.” She runs her hand over my chest, then down to my abdomen.
“Oh, really? What names did you come up with, Snow?” I love watching her face light up when I call her that—it reminds me of our instant attraction to each other all those months ago.
“I was thinking of Doc, Grumpy, Happy, Sleepy, Bashful, Sneezy, or Dopey, my personal favorite, but Mrs. Squirrel talked me out of it.”
“Is that right?” I run my hand over her hair, the sound of the river relaxing me, expecting her to say, Huntsman. Instead, she surprises me.
“I was thinking David for a boy and Emma for a girl.” My heart nearly bursts with happiness—she chose my parents' names.
“I love you, Lyra.” I place my hand under her chin and tip her head back, then press a soft kiss to her lips.
“I love you, too, Owen.” She sighs into my mouth, making me the happiest man alive and the most grateful for turning my lonely heart into one filled with love and happiness.
-The End-
Check out the rest of the Heart of the Mountain series here https://mybook.to/RsVcwMW
Want to read more about Lyra's Family? Check out the rest below.
Sizzling Mountain Man – Lex’s Story https://mybook.to/wUz345A
Oops I Fell for the Mountain Man Next Door – Lana’s Story https://mybook.to/vqYpgX1
Inked by the Mountain Man – Liv’s Story https://mybook.to/mHAZBL
Lex
I own the winery on the edge of town with my three sisters. They’re the public face of the company, while I prefer to stick to the vineyard—grapevines are much easier to talk to than people. Some might call it a lonely existence—I call it heaven on Earth.
It isn’t until a lost bridesmaid from a bachelorette party at the winery stumbles into my arms that I realize I might be missing something in my life. Now I’ll do whatever it takes to make this curvy beauty mine—even if I have to pretend to be the male dancer at the bachelorette party.
Talia
