Page 31 of Mountain Man

“You feel so good, sweetheart, so perfect and warm and tight,” he said through gritted teeth. “So wet for me. That’s all for me, isn’t it, beautiful? You love the feel of me inside you?”

Did he even need to ask? I turned my head, my mouth to his ear. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

I felt a shudder move through his frame, then his hips snapped forward and he filled me to the root, giving me all of him. I screamed and dropped my hands to his ass, digging in my nails. Wanting more. Wanting everything. He lifted his head, and his mouth came down on mine, his tongue thrusting in time with the thrust of his hips. He slammed into me over and over in a way that was all about animal need, about listening to his body and what I did to him.

I felt my orgasm rushing me, and knew it was going to blow me apart. I had no control over my thrashing limbs, my nails scoring his skin, or over the sounds I made.

“Don’t stop, never stop,” I cried as I started tightening, spasming around him, crying out as it hit, and fired through me. My toes curled, and I was only half aware of Hank lifting to his elbows above me. I held nothing back, absorbed it all, released everything, gave it all to him. If this was our last time together, I refused to hold one damn thing back from him.

When the last waves of pleasure washed over me, forcing helpless moans past my lips, I opened my eyes. Hank was hovering over me, his gaze moving over my face, intense, dark, hooded. Fierce.

He was still hard, his thrusts slower but powerful. “You’re so beautiful, Birdie. Watching you like this, Christ…I’ll never forget a second. Never.”

He started moving faster, more intense, but he didn’t bury his face against my neck. He stayed where he was, eyes locked on mine. I saw it when he was about to come—could see the way his features tightened, the way his mouth flattened—and I was right there with him again, another orgasm building inside me hard and fast.

His body started trembling and I held him tighter.

“Birdie…” God, the sound that left him was close to a sob as his thrusts got wilder, the rhythm unmeasured. “Only you,” he said, then he grunted out my name over and over, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with everything he had.

Hank

Birdie lay curled into my front, her face buried against my chest, each exhale tickling my chest. I’d woken up hard, but with her warm breath on me, her smooth soft curves, her small hands holding me, I was getting harder by the second.

Her face as she came apart under me flashed through my mind. I’d never forget it, never. Thinking about letting her go, taking her home today, physically hurt. But I couldn’t hold her here, no matter how much I wanted to. I couldn’t keep her trapped in the mountains and expect her to be happy.

How could I be enough for her?

I couldn’t; I knew that much. My dad, Beau, and me, we hadn’t been enough for my mom. I’d watched her fade over the years, lose the sparkle, the joy in her eyes, until she finally couldn’t take another minute stuck out here and walked away, never looking back.

I couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to Birdie, no matter how much I wanted her, how much I loved her…

I love her.

Birdie moaned softly, and tingles shot down my spine. Her hands gripped me tighter, her arms sliding around my belly, and she nuzzled her face against my chest. I thought she might still be asleep, but then she tilted her head back and smiled up at me. Her eyes were sleepy and hooded, hair wild around her face and shoulders.

“Hey,” she said, voice still husky and sexy as hell from sleep.

Christ, she was beautiful. My gut clenched, and my cock pulsed against her soft belly. “Hey.”

She pressed a kiss to my throat, no hesitation, then gently nudged my shoulder with her hand. I rolled to my back and she immediately climbed on top of me. Her smile turned to a grin, and my heart stuttered behind my ribs then burst into action, hard and thumping as I looked up at her.

“I want you, Hank. You okay with that?” she said, eyes not hiding one ounce of what she was feeling in that moment, how true her words were.

I lifted a hand and curled it around the side of her head, my fingers burrowing in her warm hair. “God, yes.” I pulled her down and kissed her, deep and wet, filled with everything she was making me feel as well.

She ground her wet pussy against my stomach and I growled, my hips thrusting up, seeking her out all on their own. She didn’t break the kiss, but reached behind her, gripped my erection, lifted her lovely round ass, positioned me, and stank down, talking all of me inside her in one downward stroke.

I groaned, my hips snapping up again at the exquisite feel of her wrapped around me, so hot and wet and perfect. But I kept my eyes on Birdie, watching as she rose up, the way her mouth dropped open as I filled her, the way her cheeks grew more flushed with every passing second.

Her hands slid up my chest, nails digging in, then she rolled her hips, squeezing around me at the same time. I barked out a curse, my hands going to her hips to hang on.

She bit her lower lip and did it again. “God, Hank, y-you’re so deep.”

My fingers sunk into her flesh hard enough to leave bruises, holding her tighter. Sweat beaded my forehead and it was taking everything in me not to roll her to her back and pound into her over and over again. “Fuck me, Birdie. Please, sweetheart, I need you to fuck me.”

Goosebumps lifted over her skin then she started moving—really moving. Lifting up and grinding down, working her hips against mine in a way that had the ability to make me insane. The sounds of our lovemaking filled the room: panted breaths, her gasps and moans, my deep grunts, wet flesh slapping wet flesh.

Her breasts bounced and swayed, and I gripped one in my hand, shuddering at the way she overflowed my fingers, at the feel of her tight nipple against my palm.