Page 2 of Curvy Girl for the Mountain Man

A quick look around, and it’s obvious she’s alone. But why the fuck was this beautiful creature out here all alone?

I check for a pulse, and then I run my hands all along her body, just to check and make sure nothing is bleeding or broken.

Miraculously, she only seems to have a few surface cuts on her. There’s a bit of blood on the back of her head but nothing that should require stitching.

Her pulse is steady, so I scoop her up into my arms without hesitation.

And I know it’s crazy as hell, but something settles over me. She feels like a prize, like she’s mine for the taking.

"Time to get you somewhere safe," I say, startling myself with how low and possessive my voice sounds.

I carry her through the forest, her body pressed against mine, the heat of her a comforting weight against my chest.

She curls into me, nuzzling closer, and my heart starts beating overdrive.

And Christ Almighty, she makes these soft, needy sounds that go straight to my dick.

"Easy now," I murmur, trying to soothe her as I ignore how uncomfortable it suddenly is to walk with this baseball bat in between my legs.

I carry her easily, my cabin not far but secluded enough that no one else would find her if I hadn't. The weight of her in my arms feels right, like she’s meant to be there.

As I lay her down on my couch, I can't help but admire the flush on her cheeks and the way her chest heaves as she breathes.

It's not right to want someone this much, especially someone so vulnerable, someone I don’t even know. But fuck, I want her.

I start a fire in the hearth, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows across the walls, mirroring the turmoil inside me.

She's still unconscious, her lips parted slightly, and I can't tear my eyes away from her.

I should be thinking about first aid, about getting help, but all I can think about is how soft her skin looks, how it would feel under my fingertips.

Jesus, get a grip, man.

I move away to fetch some water and a cloth. I need to clean her wounds. She's got scratches and dirt all over her.

As I dab gently at her face, her eyelids flutter but don’t open. My hands shake a little—she’s fucking beautiful.

And young. Like a ripe, unpicked cherry.

My cock leaks a stream of precum.

My nostrils flare as I blow out a breath and run a hand along my graying beard.

I’m way too old for a pretty little thing like her. I’m old enough to be her father, for fuck’s sake.

I try to push all my salacious thoughts aside and focus on the task at hand.

"Come on, sweetheart, open those eyes for me," I murmur more to myself than to her.

Finally, her eyes flutter open, confusion evident as she gazes around. Her gaze lands on me, and fuuuck.

I’m a goner.

two

. . .

Olivia

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