Page 17 of Rugged Mountain Man

I was already working her maternity T-shirt up over her head as she shoved her stretchy pants down nearly to her knees. As I helped her remove them, my gaze locked onto hers.

“We haven’t,” I agreed, glancing around.

Yeah, she was right about that. We’d done it in the shower multiple times, but never on this counter.

She smiled. “I think we’ll put our new bathroom counter to good use, you know…with the kids around and all.”

She wasn’t wrong. Finding time to make love while raising twins was going to be a challenge, but we’d make it work. Luckily, we had friends in the neighborhood who could babysit for a couple of hours here and there, especially as the twins got older.

Willow removed her bra as I worked her underwear down. It wasn’t necessary, but she knew I liked to stare at her breasts while I made love to her. I couldn’t help it. She was just so damn beautiful. I couldn’t get enough of her.

I didn’t move to remove my own clothing, though. No, first I knelt between her legs, watching her face as she realized what I was about to do.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the mirror, savoring the feel of my tongue moving over that slick, swollen bud. I could make her come in seconds, but I drew it out, wanting to prolong her pleasure as much as possible.

“Oh, yeah,” she said.

I watched as she moved her hand to her breast, sliding her fingers over her nipple. She continued to tease herself while I flicked her clit with my tongue once, twice, then over and over, moving back and forth, up and down, in a zigzag pattern. Variety was what did it for my woman, so variety was what I gave her.

Even though I was trying to drag things out, she still came in a matter of a couple of minutes, arching her back and poking that belly toward me. These days, making love was a challenge, but we’d perfected our technique, trying different positions until we figured out the few that worked well.

Once her back relaxed and her eyes slid open, I stood, unzipping my jeans and shoving them and my underwear toward my thighs. My cock was hard for her, and I fisted it as I maneuvered the tip to her entrance.

Every second with this woman was incredible, from the night we’d met to the day we said, “I do” on the shores of the pond behind our house to today, when we’d spend our first night in our new cabin. The cabin where we’d raise our family while Willow continued to run her successful doughnut bakery with her friends.

My wife handled the morning shift, making pastries and doughnuts, just as she’d always dreamed. They were even putting in a fountain at her suggestion. It was smaller than the one she remembered from her childhood, but it was right outside her bakery, so she’d get to enjoy the sound of rushing water as she worked every morning.

She gripped my arms as I slid inside her. We didn’t break eye contact, though.

“Can you come for me again, baby?” I asked.

She opened her mouth and for a second, I thought she might say no. She was tired. It had been a long day, and she’d already come three times. But slowly, her mouth spread into a smile.

“I think I can do that,” she said.

I saw exactly why she was smiling a couple of seconds later as she moved both hands to her breasts. One stayed there, lazily tracing circles around her nipple, while the other went over her belly and toward the area where our bodies met.

She kept her eyes on me as her finger found her still swollen clit. But her eyes drifted closed at first contact.

I began moving slowly in and out of her, trying not to focus too much on the view in front of us. But it was tough. It wasn’t just that I could see her, but in the mirror, I saw myself, my body moving as I plunged in and out of my beautiful wife.

I was a lucky, lucky man. This tight, sweet pussy was only for me. The fact that Willow loved me filled me with more pride than anything I’d ever accomplished, and this life we were building together was more than I could have ever dreamed.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Like that. Fuck me harder.”

Those last three words were just about my undoing. But I knew dirty talk didn’t affect my woman. I wanted her to have a second orgasm.

“You like that?” I asked. “You like the way my hard cock feels inside your pussy?”

She let out a sound—something similar to a squeak. Her eyes were closed now, but she was still touching herself, her finger wiggling faster over her clit.

“Oh, God,” she said. “Yes. Keep doing that. Oh, oh. Yes. Fuck, yes. Yes!”

Her pussy squeezed me tighter, and I knew she was coming. I began pumping faster, wanting to come at the same time. The sight of her touching herself did me in. And with a crash, my orgasm slammed through me, bringing a string of expletives that I was barely consciously aware I was saying.

When we both were fully sated, I didn’t pull out, though. Instead, I leaned forward and gave my wife a long, sweet kiss before finally pulling away.

“You know what I could go for?” I asked, remembering the words I had spoken when we first met.

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