Page 13 of The Mountain Man's Siren

“I like the sound of your heartbeat,” he says before raising his head. He latches onto one of my nipples and swirls his tongue around it. He sucks the tender bud deep into his mouth, making grunting sounds the entire time. He teases me for several long minutes before moving to give my other breast the same reverent treatment.

I like that he finds such delight in my body. For years, I’ve hated it for malfunctioning on me, for keeping me so sick and holding me back from my dreams. It’s taken me a long time to learn to love it. But now with the way Owen looks at it, touches it, and sucks on it, I’m damn glad it’s mine.

He scrapes his teeth along the underside of my nipple. I arch into him, forcing my breast deeper into his wicked mouth as my clit throbs.

“Owen,” I call his name and tug on the short strands of his hair. If he keeps playing with my tits like this, he’ll be bald within a few hours.

He releases my breast, a wet popping sound filling the air around us. When he glances at me, his eyes are hooded. He growls, “I told you what would happen if you called my name.”

My womb clenches and I squeeze my thighs together, desperate for some relief from the pressure that’s been building as he played with my body. I give him a grin and chant his name again and again.

He stretches his body over mine, pinning my arms above my head. He maneuvers me easily, spreading my thighs with his big knee. I like the way he’s holding me open, how vulnerable and safe it makes me feel at the same time.

Still, I struggle against him. It’s an impossible task. He’s so big and so strong that I’m at his mercy. But my bucking does earn me a dark chuckle. He runs his nose along my neck, inhaling my scent. Then he says in a whisper that’s more of a rumble, “You like this game.”

I nod, unable to deny it as my heart pounds. I want him to take me like this fast and fierce. Just like he is. “You made me a promise.”

“And I will always honor my promises to you.” He manages to transfer both of my wrists to one of his hands. He uses the other hand to grope for the bed table. He pumps some lube and rubs it along my mound. “You say lemon.”

“What?” I repeat, practically putty now that he’s touching me again. I try to buck against his hand, desperately seeking some friction. But he has me pinned down too effectively to allow me any movement. I’m beginning to think I’m not the only one that likes this game. Owen enjoys it too.

“If I hurt you,” he says softly. “You utter that word, and everything stops.”

“You won’t hurt me,” I reassure him. I know that with one glance at the depth of emotion in his blue gaze. He’d rather go through hell soaked in gasoline than let anything ever happen to me.

“It’ll ache like a motherfucker since it’s your first.”

I already see the regret forming on his face. He might want this just as desperately as I do, but he hates the idea of causing me pain.

I start to reach out to him. I want to cup his face, to reassure him. But my hands are still pinned above my head. “You’vealready given me so much,” I whisper. “If I have to go through hell with anyone, I’d rather it be you.”

He presses his forehead against mine, his breath coming in pants. His cock is hard, pushing insistently against my folds. “Don’t say that, lamb. I don’t want to be the demon that drags you there.”

“Then help me ascend.” He’s distracted enough that he’s no longer fully pinning me and I use this to my advantage, writhing against him.

The motion is enough to snap his self-control. He aligns our bodies, pushing inside of me slowly. The moment he enters me, he lets loose with a string of profanities, some I’ve never even heard of.

The friction of his body inside mine is incredible. If I thought having his fingers in me was good, this is a hundred times better. I love the way he’s so big, filling me until it feels like I can’t take anymore.

“Fuck, I don’t deserve this,” he says as he bumps up against my virgin barrier. “But I’m a greedy bastard so I’m going to take your tight little pussy. Gonna claim it as mine. No one else gets inside you but me. Say it, lamb.”

“No one but you, Owen.” I love his name on my lips, like it was always meant to be there.

“Put your teeth in my shoulder. When you feel it, make me hurt,” he commands.

“I don’t want to,” I plead, not willing to put him in pain.

“Do it,” he says, and I can feel it. His control is slipping. He’s been fighting his body’s need to move, to thrust deep into my channel for too long. He’s practically vibrating from the strength it’s taking to remain still.

I bury my face in his shoulder like he told me to. He shoves through the barrier then, a snarl ripping from his throat as I cryout in pain. Even though I don’t mean to, my teeth sink into his soft flesh.

“That’s right, baby. Punish me,” he croons. “Punish the wolf for consuming you.”

When the pain finally begins to ease just a fraction, I let go of his shoulder. I whimper and realize tears are pouring down my face. “I n-never expected that.”

“You did good. So good for me.” Owen presses kisses to my cheeks, my nose, and my forehead.

Eventually, the pain begins to ease. The sting turns to an ache, an ache that makes me throb deep in my core. “I think I need more.”

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