Page 26 of Saved By the Surly Medic

"And you make me…" She looks up at me, smiling shyly. "Feel complete. Is that stupid cheesy?"

"As cheesy as Jim's pizza. But that's not a bad thing. It's also the truth."

Sinking deeply into her tight pussy feels like the most natural thing in the world. I listen carefully to her breath, wanting to know exactly how much pressure she needs. After a few incredibly slow strokes, she nods, gripping the back of my neck, and I feel her legs wrap around me.

I pull out, bumping over her clit, watching her quiver before plunging in again. As I stare down at the incredible sight of my cock sliding in and out of her delicate pink folds, a sense of perfect completeness washes over me.

I don't believe in fate. I don't even know if I believe in soulmates. But I do know I sure as the sun rises in the East and sets in the West that Brooke and I will be together forever.

We were meant to be.

16

BROOKE

I’m shaking, melting, quivering. Every single spot where Jonah touches me turns to liquid fire.

It's so intense. It feels too good. Like when a hot tub is just a little too hot, but you still feel your muscles unclenching.

Jonah's pace increases, his thick, brutally hard cock thrusting inside me faster and deeper. There's no need to be afraid anymore, even when things are intense. I know that he's the one. That we're together for good.

Gripping the back of his short hair, I pull his head up from where he's nibbling on my nipple as he glides deep inside me.

"I love you," I whisper as I stare deeply into his eyes. "I just wanted to say it first this time."

He grins, the faint crinkles around his eyes deepening. "I love you so much, baby." His pace slows and he pulls almost all the way out, then eases inside so gradually that I gasp.

"And as soon as your wrist heals, we're gonna start physiotherapy to build up the strength in your left hand."

"So I can hold on for dear life when I'm riding you in bed?"

"That, plus you're going to be lifting a very large diamond on that hand every day for the rest of your life."

It was clear from the second we met that Jonah is a very serious person. I know he's not teasing. My hand slides down and underneath his arm to grip the back of his shoulder. "You know, you're very handsome for a crazy dude with no impulse control."

Now it's his turn to growl before rubbing his nose against mine. "Baby, you have no idea how much I'm holding back."

A deep tremble runs through me. He's not kidding about this, either. As soon as my injuries have healed, I can just imagine how wild my mountain man is going to be.

I already know that he's going to take me in every room of the house, and in his truck, and on the forest trails. I'm going to become one of those women who always keeps an extra pair of panties in her purse, just in case.

Jonah thrusts harder, shattering my already fragmented train of thought. I didn't think his huge cock could get any thicker, but it feels like it does as his breath becomes slightly choppy. His hand slides to my breasts, then tugs gently at my nipples while I moan. Sparks of pleasure zing through me as I feel the pressure building fast.

The sensations are so intense. Are they really supposed to be so big? I can’t believe that this kind of instant bonding is quite natural.

Just when I’m wishing I had a bit more pressure, Jonah's hand slides down between us, his thumb flicking across my clit.

"Fuck, how do you always know what I need?" I gasp.

"Because I was born to take care of you."

My laugh is cut off when he melds his mouth to mine. There are no more words, just pure raw sensation. His driving thrusts become rougher as he presses against my clit, rocking my body with his hips. Our kiss becomes frantic, uneven, both of us gasping yet not wanting to pull away.

An odd pang of pride blossoms through my chest as I feel Jonah losing control. I did that. This stoic, surly mountain man wants and needs me so much that he actually loses himself. It's strange, but it fills me with confidence.

My heels dig into the bed, hips thrusting up to meet him stroke for stroke, encouraging him on.

"Yeah," he grunts, gripping me hard. Three more savage strokes then we both cry out – mine a soft fluttery cry, and his a gritty growl. "Mine. My precious baby."

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