Page 10 of Curvy Girl for the Mountain Man

I can’t move. I’m rooted to the spot. My cock surges to full life again, and I ball my hands into fists, trying desperately to restrain myself.

But it’s a fight I’m never going to win.

five

. . .

Olivia

"Olivia." My name is a deep rumble in Jack’s chest.

Slowly, I raise my eyes to his. The intensity I find there steals my breath.

His eyes rove over my naked form with raw, primal hunger.

I don’t know what possessed me to just strip down in front of him right here, but I did, and the way his voice is all hoarse and his wild sends a thrill through me.

In the firelight, his rugged features are cast in flickering shadows, making him look almost dangerous.

Untamed.

But what else could I expect from a man who could stare down a bobcat?

My pulse pounds as he takes a step toward me, then another. I'm caught, ensnared by his unwavering stare. He reaches out, callused fingers grazing my cheek with surprising gentleness.

"If you want me to stop, say so now," he warns, his voice low and rough with restraint. "Because in another minute, I won't be able to."

I should put a halt to this. It's reckless, impulsive. I barely know this man. But I'm tired of being cautious, of denying myself. For once, I want to give in to my desires, consequences be damned.

And I don’t know how I know that I always play it safe when I can’t remember anything about myself—just that it’s a feeling.

"Don't stop," I whisper, tilting my face into his touch. "Please."

Something fierce and hungry ignites in his eyes. "Olivia," he growls and captures my mouth with his.

Jack's kiss is demanding, consuming, his lips moving against mine with urgent need. I cling to his broad shoulders, dizzy with the onslaught of sensation.

His tongue delves into my mouth, tasting, claiming. I've never been kissed like this before, with such raw, desperate hunger.

At least I don’t think I have. I would know something like that, wouldn’t I?

It's thrilling and terrifying all at once.

A low moan escapes me as his hands skim down my sides to settle on my hips, pulling me flush against the hard plane of his body.

Every nerve ending sparks to life, hyperaware of each point of contact between us. I thread my fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair, deepening the kiss, matching his fervor with my own rising passion.

He tears his mouth from mine to trail searing kisses along my jaw, my neck. "You have no idea what you do to me," he rasps against my skin. "From the moment I saw you..."

His teeth graze my earlobe and I gasp, arching into him. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Wanting you." His hands slip over the underside of my breasts, calloused palms igniting flames in their wake.

"Jack..." His name falls from my lips like a plea. I'm drowning in sensation, lost to anything but his touch, his scent, the heat of his body against mine.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, his breath hot on my neck. "That you want me." His hips press into mine, letting me feel the evidence of his desire, hard and insistent.

When I don’t immediately answer, he shakes his head, and a torrent of words pour from him, “Fuck, I should stop this. I’m old enough to be your daddy, girl. Do you understand that? You’re so young and pretty and motherfucking delectable.” He squeezes my waist as if to punctuate his words.

And I don’t know where it comes from, but I say before I can even think about it, "Then be my daddy."

---