Page 6 of Liberated Mountain Man

Every time I glance at her, my body responds, my cock hardening in my jeans. She sits so close, the hem of her nightdress barely covering her thighs, and my fingers itch to touch her. To feel that smooth skin beneath my hands.

I shouldn’t. She’s untouched, too innocent.

But fuck, I want her. I want her so fucking bad.

No. No. No.

But who the fuck am I kidding? Surely just a touch.

I can’t help it. My hand moves, almost of its own accord, sliding across the seat and landing on her thigh. Her skin iswarm, soft, and I feel her suck in a breath, her body going still. But she doesn’t push me away. She doesn’t tell me to stop.

My hand moves higher, sliding up her thigh, inch by inch, until my fingers brush the edge of her panties. Her breath hitches, and I feel her legs part slightly, an unconscious invitation.

I want to keep going. I want to tear that nightdress off her, to taste her, to make her mine in every way.

But I can’t.

I pull my hand back, cursing myself under my breath. I don’t want to scare her. I have to control myself.

Cassie looks at me, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in soft, shaky gasps. “Jax...” she whispers.

“I’m sorry,” I growl running a hand through my hair. “I shouldn’t have...”

“It’s okay,” she says softly, her voice steady. “I don’t mind. It feels nice.”

I mind, but fuck, she said it felt nice. When I’m done with her, she will be fucking vibrating and nice will be the last word in her vocabulary.

But she deserves better than this. Better than me losing control.

“We’re almost there,” I say, my grip tightening on the steering wheel, forcing my attention back on the road. My voice is rougher than I intend, but I can’t help it. “Just a little longer.”

She nods, her head lolling to the side, half-asleep, looking so innocent. Like an angel. Her body settles deeper into the seat, her lashes fluttering closed, and I take a breath. Good. Now I can watch her.

She shifts in her sleep, the hem of her dress riding up her thighs. My gaze locks onto the sliver of white fabric peeking out—her panties. Of course, she’s wearing white. A fucking innocent white panty. I swallow hard as her chest rises and falls, her nipples still hard beneath the fabric of her dress, teasing me with every shift. She moans softly in her sleep, and it’s like a punch straight to my gut.

I grit my teeth, struggling to keep from pulling over and doing exactly what I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks. Ever since I rescued her, I’ve been holding back, barely keeping myself in check. In the days leading up to it, I didn’t touch myself. Not once. I wanted to save every fucking drop of it for her. For when I could finally bury myself inside her soft folds. But now, I realize how big of a fucking mistake that was.

Her innocence, her sweetness—it’s driving me insane, turning me on more than I ever thought possible. Fuck, I want her so bad, it’s a constant ache and throbbing between my legs. My dick is so fucking hard, straining against my jeans, and all I can think about is how good it would feel to be inside her, to fuck her hard and make her mine in every way.

But if I give in now, if I lose control and take her the way I’m desperate to, it’ll be too much. I’ll fuck her too hard, too fast, and I’ll scare her. She’s too pure, too soft for the way I want her right now, and if I don’t get a grip, I’ll ruin everything before it even begins.

The rest of the drive is tense, every glance at her making my blood boil hotter, my cock harder. But I keep my eyes on the road. I have to. I can’t let anything happen to my girl.

When we finally pull up to the cabin, the first light of dawn is just beginning to break over the horizon. Cassie is half-asleep, her head resting against the window, her face soft, peaceful.

I sit there for a moment, watching her. Wanting her. Needing her.

My chest aches with all the things I can’t say, all the things I can’t do.

She stirs, her eyes fluttering open as she looks at me. “Are we here?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” I murmur, turning off the engine. “We’re here.”

She smiles, that sweet, innocent smile, and it feels like it’s tearing me apart. I reach over and brush a strand of hair from her face, letting my fingers linger a little too long.

She smiles at me. And my heart races.

I brush her bottom lip with my thumb. And she instinctively closes her eyes.

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