Page 12 of Chosen for the Mountain Man

“Ciara.” He tears his lips from mine, forehead pressed to my shoulder. His voice trembles. “I need to hear you say it again. That you want this. That you wantme.”

I grasp his strong jaw, forcing his gaze to mine. “I’ve wanted you since I saw your dating profile. Max, you’re a six foot six walking fantasy. And being here with you in real life has only confirmed that you really areeverything.”

A growl rips from his chest. He reaches between us, lining himself up, and my stomach somersaults.

Then he pauses, and winces. “Fuck, I don't have any condoms. I swear, I'm clean. I got tested after my last partner, and that was years ago. But if you’re not comfortable with?—”

“I'm on the pill…and I trust you,” I interrupt, looking into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there.

His expression softens, and he brushes a lock of hair away from my face. “You humble me, Ciara. I promise, I'll take care of you.”

I smile, my heart fluttering. “I know you will.”

He kisses me again, slow and deep, as he reaches down to position himself at my entrance. I feel the broad, thick head ofhis cock push against me, and I tense up, my nails digging into his back.

“Breathe,” he murmurs, kissing my collarbone. “Tell me if it hurts.”

I nod. The first push steals my breath—stretching,aching, a sharp pinch that makes me hiss.

Max freezes. “Are we at red?”

“Yellow,” I pant, squeezing my eyes shut.

He stills, sweat dripping onto my chest. “Look at me.”

I force my eyes open. His gaze burns, tender and feral all at once.

“You’re perfect,” he says, voice hoarse. “So tight and fucking perfect.”

Emotion swells in my throat. No one’s ever looked at me like this—like I’m a feast, a revelation. He moves again, inch by torturous inch, until he’s fully seated.

“Holyshit,” I wheeze.

A strangled laugh escapes him. “That’smyline.”

“How is this humanly possible? You’re like...a redwood. A massive heat-seeking missile. A?—”

He cuts me off with a searing kiss. “Don’t think. Feel,” he rumbles against my lips.

Then he moves.

The stretch melts into molten pleasure, friction sparking nerves I didn’t know existed—inside, outside, and maybe in some undiscovered fourth dimension. My back arches, a broken moan escaping as he finds a rhythm—deep, deliberate strokes that leave me clawing at his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he grits out, fingers digging into my hip. “Take me, baby. All of it.”

His praise liquifies my bones. “Max,please?—”

“What?” He nips my jaw, hips snapping harder. “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“Don’t stop,” I beg, wrapping my legs around his waist. “More, soldier. Forward march…”

He chuckles, his groan vibrating through me. “Fuck, you’re everything.”

The bed creaks. The headboard thuds against the wall. I’m vaguely aware we’re recreating a metronome on steroids, but all that matters is Max—his growls in my ear, his hands everywhere, his cock hitting a spot that makes me see constellations.

“Mine,” he snarls suddenly, gripping my hair. “This sweet pussy’s mine now.”

The possession in his voice detonates something primal. I come unraveled, pleasure swelling inside me, flames licking every nerve ending into a frenzied peak. Everything is wet and hot, and suddenly I’m screaming his name, thighs trembling as he continues to fuck me through the aftershocks.

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