Page 127 of Roughing It

“We’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I go through my mental checklist: the tent lines are secure, the windbreak is tight, and the waterproof tarp is double-knotted.

“Of course you won’t.” She says it like it’s as obvious as water being wet.

Damn, if her certainty in me doesn’t make me feel like more. Taller. Bigger. Smarter. I’m Superman.

A brilliant flash of lightning illuminates her face, and while she’s shivering, her cheeks are rosy from running around, and her hair hangs in riotous waves around her head.Fucking gorgeous. A man possessed, I move forward and pull her flush against my body before claiming her mouth.

My tongue delves between her lips, a hint of fruit, wine, and sugar lingering there. Her flavor overwhelms me, and when she curls her body against mine, deepening the kiss, I shift so my knee goes between her thighs. Blakely rocks againstme, her desire as evident as mine. We trip over the edge of another rule I broke for her—an air mattress.

She goes to lie down, but I grab her. “Nope. Not yet. You didn’t listen to me out there.”

Her chin lifts, and her shoulders go back. “You needed my help.”

I bite my lower lip. “Sure did. But now I need you to listen.”

Pulling her in, my hands grip her hips, and I kiss the spot beneath her ear. “We’re about to put this mattress to use, baby. Fucked you against a tree yesterday, gonna fuck you in the rain tonight.” She squirms, clenching her thighs, and I chuckle. “But only if you can be a good girl and listen.”

“Tell me what you want me to do, Bear.” That fucking nickname. I love the way it sounds on her lips.

I slip off my wet clothes, leaving them in a messy pile at the mouth of the tent. Then I sink onto the air mattress, stroking myself. “Undress for me.”

Blakely locks her eyes on mine as she peels off her clothes. She stands before me, clad in a pair of pale blue panties and a matching lace-covered bra. An ugly voice dredges up resentment.She has twenty-plus sets of matching underwear. She doesn’t belong out here with me.

Growling to drown out the rain and my inner critic, I say, “Keep going. All of it.”

Reaching behind her back, she unclasps the hooks on her bra and flings it away from her body, letting her full breasts spill into the open air. Then she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, inching them down her legs.

“Now that you have me bare, Bear, what do you want? Tell me.” It’s my own private show, Blakely’s beautiful body highlighted by the dim glow of the lantern and the occasional flashes of lightning.

Myvoice comes out husky. “Put your fingers in your mouth, get them nice and wet, then use them to touch those gorgeous tits.”

“Touch them? Like this?” She sweeps her slim fingers over her pink nipples, all the blood in my body speeding south when they stiffen into peaks.

“Tug them. Twist them.” She loves the pain-pleasure line, and, again, she does as I ask, tugging and pinching the supple skin and sensitive tips of her breasts, a whimper slipping from her mouth. Can’t believe this woman is with me.

A sudden crack and thunderous boom shake the tent, but Mother Nature won’t drown me out. Louder, I give another command. “Move your hands lower. Glide them down your stomach, across your hips, in between your thighs, but don’t touch yourself. Not yet.”

As her hands move, so do mine. My speed matches hers, smooth slide for firm stroke.

“Slip two of your fingers inside your perfect pussy. Tell me how it feels.”

Blakely parts her curls before pushing her index and middle fingers inside. Her head falls back, and a wanton noise fills the tent as she dips in and out of her cunt. “It feels good, but not as good as you.”

I palm my cock. “Are you wet, Blakely? Tell me.”

“Yes, I’m dripping. But I wish it was your thick fingers inside me.”

“Are you close to coming?”

“Yes, I’m getting cl-close. You w-watching…”

“Stop,” I breathe the word, barely audible over the pouring rain, but she complies with a whine. “Good girl.”

Surges of lightning illuminate her flushed skin, her peaked nipples, the glisten between her legs. Need overpowers myintent to drag this out, and I crook my finger, beckoning her to me.

The air mattress isn’t ideal for what I want to do, but there’s no way I can stop. Blakely crawls to me, and fuck if the sight doesn’t have precum leaking from my dick. When she gets to me, sitting her wet pussy on my abs, I demand, “Feed me your fingers.”

Her pupils blow out, eating up the blue-green iris. Hand shaking, she offers it to me, and I lick her fingers clean, just like I did with the marshmallow earlier.

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