Page 17 of Forgotten Mountain Man

“Thssaasssaaabbbdddddeaa,” I mumbled around my mouthful of cock, sticking my tongue out to lave his balls.

“Fuck, that’s good, Precious.” Walker contented himself with playing with my hair and stroking my back after that. I resigned myself to the fate I'd set up for until he slid his hands down my body and set me upright on his hips to straddle him, letting me stretch my legs. “I want to see you fuck me. Slowly,” he warned, his eyes hard in warning not to defy him.

Intimidating as all hell.

I knew he worried about hurting me, and I got it—his cock was as thick as my wrist. But Walker Roan had a tendency to make me come a dozen times before we screwed or, like this morning, to tease the absolute fuck out of us both until I was a sopping, whining, writhing mess.

Either way, I was more than ready by the time he pushed into me. Or in this case, I slid over him, taking him all the way inside me before I stopped, breathless, my thighs resting on top of his.

“Oh, wow,” I whispered, finding his gaze with my slightly wild one. “That’s— wow, Walker.”

“Are you okay, Faith?” he checked in, cupping my cheeks and leaned forward to kiss me tenderly. “Tell me you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” I reassured him. “Fine. Just getting used to youuuuu–”

My whisper became a wail as he clamped both hands onto my hips and railed me from below, ripping control from my hands and slammed into me until I grabbed at his shoulders in a bid to cling tosomething.

Everything disappeared as my entire body shook with the force of his thrusts. I left half-moon shaped scrapes on his chest and shoulders as I tried to grasp a hand hold to him and failed. Then my orgasm rammed into me—or maybe he did—and I stopped thinking about scratching him at all. My body tightened as I arched against him. Juices dripped down my thighs where we joined.

The first time I squirted on him, I thought he had come already. But when I did it time and again with him in the same session, I realized his body somehow hit something inside me that just brought out the maximum amount of pleasure. Walker made sure I stayed hydrated afterwards, too.

I leaned down and kissed him, finding his mouth and parting my lips for his tongue. His kisses were rough and deep, just like the way he fucked. Everything about Walker was in proportion, as advertised for any good lumber snack. And oh, hell, what a lumber snack. I cried into his shoulder when what he did became too much in an overwhelm of mountain man proportions, but I refused to beg him to stop.

If our time together was limited—and I couldn't think about that right now—then I wanted to preserve every memory we could make in the next hours. Our bodies slammed together over and over. I coated us both with my cum before he growled in my ear words that my lust addled brain struggled to make out.

Then his mouth was back on mine and he flipped us both, slamming hilt deep as he came inside me. His hips jerked once, my name on his lips as he held me close. My breath formed his name on a plea, an echo that refused to die.

I sank into the circle of his arms and let Walker Roan block out reality for me for one more day.

“We’ll head down the mountain today.”

I closed my eyes and pretended my tame lumber snack hadn’t just stripped away my happiness privileges. I mean, I knew we had to go back, but I’d enjoyed the break from the life I forced myself into because it’s what I was supposed to do.

After all, I wassupposedto work my butt off. I wassupposedto get a law degree.I wassupposedto be this kick ass girl with the brain to match and beat all the boys at their own game because of the gifts given to me.

All the pressures I never caved under that I got to release in a week and a bit in the shelter of Walker Roan. And in a scant handful of words he stripped all that comfort away that I craved and threw it off a mountainside like so much junk.

Worst thing? He had no idea because like with every other problem I’d faced in my life, I said absolutely nothing and kept on dancing.

Right at his kitchen bench with a fake as fuck smile plastered on my face that I’d worn for so long that it had become my real one.

“Fantastic. I’ll go pack my stuff.” I stayed right where I was and threw Walker a blindingly bright grin as I tucked my dead phone into my back pocket.

Good thing I wore my own clothes today.

Especially since I’d made a habit of wearing one of his shirts and nothing else for the last few days while we fucked around his house and both pretended that this was life and nothing else mattered.

For the last forty-eight hours, nothing else had.

Walker’s eyes narrowed on me. “Sassy little thing,” he muttered, turning into the pantry.

A tactical looking backpack was gripped in his hand that had a long black cord-like thing hanging out of it. He stopped, reversed, and filled the satchel with water. Then he pivoted on his heel and headed back the way he’d started originally.

My breath stalled. “Wait, you mean on foot?” What remained of my good humor deserted me.

Walker’s snort echoed through the pantry, along his crazy circular mountain home and back to me. “Did you think we were going to hire a plane and fly you out in luxury, Precious? Yeah, we’re walkin’.”

“Ah.” I swallowed, forcing my smile back onto my face, though it felt less real this time. “You don’t have a pair of boots I can borrow, do you?”

---