Page 10 of Claimed By the Mountain Man

“I want to.” I turned to face him, gathering my courage. “I just... I should tell you something first.”

His hands stilled on my waist. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just...” I took a deep breath. “I’m not very experienced. I mean, I’m not a virgin, but I’ve only been with one person, and it wasn’t... great.”

Understanding softened his expression. “We’ll go slow,” he promised. “And we’ll stop anytime you want.”

The shower was barely big enough for two people, but somehow that made it better. More intimate. Logan washed my hair first, his strong fingers massaging my scalp until I was practically purring. The simple act felt more intimate than any kiss. Then he worked his way down, cleaning away the day’s dirt with careful attention that soon turned to caresses.

“You’re trembling.”

“Good trembling,” I assured him, leaning back against his chest. The solid warmth of him made me feel safe, cherished. Every touch was reverent, exploring rather than demanding. When his palms skimmed over my curves, there was nohesitation, no judgment—just appreciation that made me feel beautiful. Desired.

I turned in his arms, needing to see his face. Water ran down his chest, highlighting every muscle, every scar. I traced a small mark near his collarbone. “What’s this from?”

“A bar fight.”

“Really?”

“No. A bicycle accident when I was younger. I thought it might make me more mysterious.”

I swatted his chest. “As if you need any more mysterious charm.”

“You find me charming? Mysterious?”

“Yes. And grumpy and scowling.”

“I don’t think that’s a word, sweetheart.”

“Well, it should be. In the mountain man dictionary.”

He caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “You’re stalling.”

“Maybe I’m enjoying the view.” And I was. As I’d confessed, I wasn’t a virgin, and I certainly didn’t consider myself a shy Victorian miss, but I had to admit, I had never, ever been this upclose and personal with such a specimen of manhood. And, I did mean manhood. I reached out, taking his cock in my hand. It was full, standing almost at attention. And big? Did I mention big?

“Samantha,” he growled as my fingers wrapped around his length.

“Do you like that?” I looked up to find him staring down at me, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Did you like it when I touched you?”

“Yes.” I stroked down his length. Again, I was in new territory, so I was following my instincts. When he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, I did it again. And again, until he was groaning.

“Yeah, just like that, baby.”

I picked up the pace, rubbing my finger over the slit. “Samantha.”

I looked up at him, knowing my heart was probably in my eyes. “What did you say to me? Let go, Logan. I’ve got you.”

For a moment I thought he would, but then, he was moving and before I knew it I was backed up against the shower wall, the cool tiles a shock against my heated skin. “When I come, I want to be inside you. Deep inside you.”

“Yes, please.” I blinked up at him as the water cascaded down our bodies. His mouth crushed mine, his tongue thrusting inside. Thankfully, he had one arm around my waist so my knees didn’t buckle when he took one hard nipple in his mouth, sucking it deep. I arched against him, my body wanting more. His other hand slid down our water slicked bodies, finding the juncture of my thighs. He cupped my mound, growling against my flesh. “This is mine, Samantha. Only mine.”

“Yes. Only yours.” I threaded my fingers through his hair. “Are you ready to claim it?”

In response he bit down on my nipple, making me gasp. One finger slid inside me as his thumb found my clit. He circled, pressing firmly. He added another finger, then a third. My fingers bit into his scalp as he plunged them inside my aching body, hard, deep, faster and faster.

My orgasm hit me with the force of a runaway train. “Logan. Oh, Logan.”

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