Page 8 of Trapped with the Mountain Man

She looked at me and gave a nod. Then her eyes slid closed as she moved an index finger over each nipple.

“Oh,” she said.

The word came out sounding high-pitched. More like a squeak. Even that sound turned me on because it signaled her loss of control. She was getting caught up in the sensations. That was exactly what I wanted.

“How does that feel?” I asked.

Now breathlessness had joined my hoarseness. I had to stop stroking so I could keep myself in check. It would be a while before I could come, and watching her was making it hard enough to hold back.

“Oh,” she repeated, squeezing her legs together, and I’d bet a hundred bucks those panties were wet. I couldn’t wait to find out if I was right.

“Now slip your right hand— Are you right-handed?”

I regretted asking that question almost as soon as it was out of my mouth. It could break her focus.

But she didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she nodded and licked her lips. Fuck, this was sexy.Shewas sexy.

“Slide your right hand under the waistband of your panties,” I said.

She froze, and I worried for a second I’d gone too far. But then her hand dove beneath her panties, and I had to hold back a moan of my own.

If I lived to be a hundred, I’d never forget the sight in front of me. Legs slightly spread, head thrown back, eyes closed, as her hand moved beneath the thin, silky fabric of her panties. She was the hottest woman I’d ever seen, doing the hottest thing I’d ever seen anyone do.

And I just had one question. How did I get her out of those panties?

5

AMBER

Should I take off my panties?

My first instinct was to ask Clay. He said he’d guide me through this, after all. But I didn’t want to ask him. I wanted to know exactly what I was doing. I wanted to know what turned him on.

Without opening my eyes, I used my left hand to slide my panties downward. It was awkward and probably not sexy at all, but I managed to get them to my thighs.

And then I returned my hand to my breast. I felt safe with him, but I also wanted to impress him. I worried that I’d come across as amateurish compared to what he’d seen in the past from the women he’d been with.

I imagined myself as a confident, sexy woman who’d been around the block a time or two. I knew exactly how to turn a guy on. I was a temptress, a seductress, a woman who was about to rock his world.

“Do you feel something at the very top of your pussy?” he asked.

The question threw me. I wanted to open my eyes, but I forced them to stay closed.

“Something?” I asked.

“It’s a tiny nub of flesh, probably swollen. When you touch it, it should feel better than when you touch anywhere else.”

There was one area that felt better than anywhere else. I’d been brushing across it as I slid my finger all the way inside. I thought that was what I was supposed to do.

“I feel it,” I said, finding it hard to believe just how breathless I sounded.

Was that my voice? I barely recognized it.

“Now move over it,” he said. “Fast, slow, whatever works for you. It’s all about what feels good.”

“Oh God,” I said.

The words slipped out. I was so caught up in the sensations filling my body, I could no longer focus on looking sexy for him. I hoped he didn’t mind.

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