Page 22 of The Mountain Man's Valentine Baby

“Always. I’ll say I do to you every day for the rest of our lives,” I promise him. What we did today was special and sacred. I’ll always carry it with me. Even in the hard moments, I’ll remember that we made a commitment to be a team and tackle things together.

“Now,” I give him a flirty grin. “I seem to recall a gift that involved your tongue, husband.”

He grabs me and hauls me against his body, growling, “Say that again.”

I stand on my tip toes so I can whisper into his ear, “Husband.Myhusband.”

“Damn right I’m your husband. Now, strip. Every inch of your body belongs to me, and I want to see what’s mine.”

His words go straight to my clit, making it pulse. I don’t waste any time yanking off my sexy lingerie. We’ll appreciate the pretty clothes another time. Right now, I need to feel him slamming deep into me.

He lets out a noise that sounds like the roar of a mighty predator. “Good girl. Now get on the bed and spread your legs for me. Let me taste that sweet sunshine you keep locked between those thighs, wife.”

I kick off my white heels and climb into his big bed. Well, I guess it’s our bed now. On our way into town, I suggested a prenuptial agreement so he would be protected. He’s made a lot of money in the art world. A lot more money than I ever have as a talent manager.

He growled at me and said he’d spank my ass if I ever suggested something like that. He insisted that everything that’s his is now mine, too. It’s crazy to think we’re blending our lives together, and yet nothing has ever felt so right to me.

I spread my thighs for him, my nipples pebbling at the thought of what he’s seeing. He’s seeing my pink cunt, dripping for him, prepared to be stretched around his massive girth.

He wastes no time stripping off his own clothes and his prosthetic. The only thing he leaves on are his black briefs that can barely contain his massive shaft. He’s going to be inside me soon.

He crawls onto the bed next to me and buries his face in my mound. “You’re a good little wife, making all of this honey for your husband.” He parts my pussy lips and scoops some up onto his thumb. He holds eye contact while he puts it in his mouth, licking it clean.

My body heats watching him and I whimper, pleading with him, “Lick up my cream. It’s all yours. Every drop belongs to you.”

He doesn’t have to be asked again. He dives in and eats me out like he’s feasting. He alternates between long, slow licks and hard, fast suction around my clit. But it’s not until he shoves his big, thick cock into my empty channel that I finally come.

He watches my face the entire time, barely moving. He holds his body inside of mine. It’s only when I’ve started to float back down to earth that he begins to ride me. “You’re going to come again.”

I whimper even as I flutter around his giant intrusion. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to his size, but I always love it. I’ll always love the stretch as he breaches me, always love the feeling of being completely filled by him. “I don’t think I can.” Even as I say it, I’m getting closer to the precipice.

His next words send me over the edge. He circles my clit with the pad of his thumb and insists in a rough voice, “You will.”

My pussy snaps around him even tighter as my second orgasm begins. He follows me into the release, breathing harshly in my ear as he fills me with his hot, sticky come.

“Such an obedient wife, milking my cock like this,” he rasps.

I moan at his words. I love the two sides to this mountain man. I love the way he spoils me and cares for me so tenderly then pulls me into his bed and says the filthiest things. “You turn me on when you say stuff like that.”

He smirks down at me, his cock still buried between my thighs. “I know.”

Then we’re making out again, his lips on mine and our bodies moving together. But this time is different. It’s not the desperate, passionate need it was before. This is sweaty, slow love making, the kind that intertwines not just our bodies but our souls too.

After it’s over, he pulls me into the shower where we spend another hour touching each other.

“I can’t believe we’re married and can do this all the time now,” I tell him as I towel off. I had no idea when I drove up here from Nashville that I’d be going back to my apartment as a married woman.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quickly, sensing my sadness.

“I hate that we’re going to be apart,” I admit and move to the sink to inspect my skin. There are marks all over it where he’s licked, nibbled, and suckled. He wasn’t kidding me when he said every inch of my body belongs to him.

In the mirror, I see him scowling. “Who says we’re going to be apart?”

“Well, I live in Nashville, and your home is here. I guess, we really should have talked this through before we tied the knot.” I reach for the comb to get the tangles out of my hair, remembering how tenderly he did it for me last night.

He strides across the floor and picks me up, setting me on the bathroom counter so we’re eye-to-eye. “Let’s get one thing very clear right now. My home is you. Where you are is home. I go where you go and sleep where you sleep. Nothing will ever separate us again.”

“But—”

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