Page 13 of Saved By the Mountain Man

His hands squeeze my ass, and his fingers part my folds. My body jerks as he drags his tongue from my clit to my pussy and slips it inside me.

Oh my God.

The pleasure I feel is exquisite. It’s so good that I push myself to him so I can take his tongue deeper, my flesh parting for him. And deeper he goes. He eats me like I’m his favorite meal, and when his finger grazes my clit, the orgasm hits me like a freight train.

“Oh God. Matt, fuck!”

I’m not done pulsating when he pulls away and growls, “We are not done yet, Dan. You come next on my cock.”

An almost inhuman moan escapes my throat when he shoves his thick girth inside me. He yanks me against his body until his pelvis presses against my butt, and there’s not even an inch of space between us.

I don’t know when the last orgasm ends and the next one begins, but as he winds my hair in his knuckle and tugs on it, his cock driving in and out of me, my second climax rushes to the surface, and I tremble uncontrollably.

“Dan…”

His voice sounds like a mix of a grunt, growl, and groan, and when he buries himself home, he swells inside me and fills me with hot, endless spurts. His come slides out of me and down the backs of my thighs, and damn if it doesn’t feel so good.

Like he’s branding me. Laying a claim on me. Marking me as his.

God knows I’ve never really been anyone else’s.

7

MATTHEW

“Figured out how to tell your dad?” I ask as I add two pancakes to the pile and bring it to the table.

Dan stirs her coffee slowly and darts her eyes sideways. “No. Not yet. I mean, I’m so embarrassed just by being here.”

I pull out my chair and sit across from her, sliding three sausages to her plate. “Why?”

“Because I failed? Because I went out to see the world, tried to follow my dreams, and it didn’t work out?”

“Things don’t always work out, Dan. That’s the beauty of life. We can always start again.” I lift her hand and kiss her knuckle. “As long as we’re alive, we can start again. I mean, look at us. Did you ever think you’d end up here when you packed for camping?”

This earns me a soft smile. “No, I didn’t. I knew at some point we’d bump into each other, but no. I didn’t even know you weren’t at your parents’ ranch house anymore.”

“You didn’t keep track of me?”

“I wanted to ask about you all the time. Your name was always at the tip of my tongue whenever Dad called.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Her shoulders lift, and she runs a finger above the rim of her glass. “I feel like I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve to ask or know about you because I was the one who left.” She pauses and tilts her head to the side. “Did you keep track of me?”

“I did. At first, I convinced myself that it was because I hated you. Then, I got tired of lying to myself, so I admitted it was because I wanted to be the first to know if you’d met someone and gotten married.” I pause and give her a sad smile. “I visited you once, you know.”

She scrunches her forehead. “What?”

“I went there while you were attending college and stayed at the coffee shop across your dorm. I was over the anger at this point, and I wanted to talk. I spent five hours and drank five cups of coffee, but when you arrived, you were with this guy.”

The confusion on her face is real. “Who?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug and close my eyes, doing my damnedest to forget the sting of jealousy that pierced through me at the time. “He was a bit older than you, with a full sleeve of tattoos and a ponytail.”

I can tell the exact moment it hits her. “Eric?”

The burning sensation in my stomach only intensifies. “Are you still in contact?”

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