Page 90 of The CEO and the Mountain Man

“Close,” I whimpered.

“Come for me, my love,” he commanded.

Those words in my ear, more than even the tricksy hands on my cock, did me in. I came so hard I swayed above him, an immense load splattered all over his belly and chest. I kept going and going as he wrung me out.

He wasn’t going to stop there, though. Even as I started to jerk from overstimulation, he continued.

Shuddering beneath me, rolling his hips as he made desperate little sounds. So close. I clenched tight, and his groans grew a little louder. He thrust up, again and again, until his warmth filled me.

“Love you so much,” I whispered, so grateful for what we had together. “I can’t wait to live this life with you.”

Epilogue

CLARK

One year ago today, I met the man who changed everything. Who helped me bring my son back, who taught me that nothing was impossible if you wanted it badly enough.

If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be sitting in our kitchen on a small homestead outside of Chance, Colorado, head over heels in love, watching my son bloom in his college classes, I’d have called you a liar. Unmoored from any reality I was aware of.

But this was my reality.

And as of today, I hoped to make it permanent.

Beau shuffled into the kitchen, his sleep pants loose on his hips, his hair a mess, his face scruffy. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my entire life.

“Mornin’,” he grunted. “You’re up early.”

His days at Snow Creek started well before I fired up my laptop. I often slept through his morning routine, but once or twice a week, I liked for us to have a quiet cup of coffee together. Something sweet before the madness of the day.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night,” I admitted, dragging him in for a quick kiss.

“Bad dreams?” he asked, his hand immediately at my jaw. He stroked his thumb across my cheek.

I inhaled deeply, enjoying the sleepy, toothpaste-y smell of him along with the fresh coffee dripping in the background. “The opposite, actually.”

He brightened. “Really? You had a good dream?”

I shrugged. “My life is a dream. A fantasy, really.”

He rewarded me with another sleepy, sensual kiss.

“Tell me about this good dream of yours.”

I kissed his chin and his nose. “I dreamed I saw you with silver hair.”

He touched the hair at his temple with a scrunched face. “Why silver hair?”

“You have a problem with silver hair?” I said, pointing to the streak that was beginning to come in at my part.

“No, I love your silver hair.”

“Well, one day I hope to love your silver hair, too.”

With his face still creased in confusion, he reached above me to grab a mug from the cabinet. One of my favorite things about Beau was that, even though he was a morning person, he always needed a few extra minutes for his circuits to come online.

So adorable.

The crease between his eyebrows softened, and his eyes widened.